Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(68)

I’m five strokes in before I realize why I can feel every tiny flutter and twitch of her *. I’m barebacking her. Shit, I haven’t had sex without a condom—ever. I’ve never lost it so much that I’ve forgotten to put one on, no matter how horny or drunk I’ve been in the past.

I freeze and start to pull out, but she moans her unhappiness.

“Goldie, I’m not wearing a rubber.”

She doesn’t push me away, not my cautious sweet girl. Instead she pushes back against me, her plush ass cheeks slamming against my thighs and groin. “Just…just pull out.”

I’m safe, she told me when I was testing her blood sugars.

“I’m taking care of you. No risk on my end either,” I growl into her ear. She nods faintly and that’s all the permission I need.

I push her forward and cover her, plunging so deep and so hard she has to put out a hand to prevent being driven into the wall. The heavy wood desk scrapes against the floor as I power into her, stroke after stroke. She sobs into the desktop, and when my own release threatens to swamp me, I reach around to find her clit, squeezing and rolling that nub between my fingers until she tightens and then explodes around me.

I almost lose it then, almost bust it inside her, but I manage to pull out and spray my come all over her trembling, gorgeous ass. I’ve marked her and now she’s mine. With regret and the exertion of the last bit of energy I have left, I grab my shirt off the floor and wipe her off. She jerks when I dab between her legs, and I may have rubbed some of my spunk into her skin rather than cleaning her entirely.

Tossing the shirt to the side, I gather her into my arms and stumble to the bed.

“What are we doing?” she asks.

I pull a blanket up over our bodies. “We’re enjoying each other.”

“For how long?”

Forever is a good start in my book, but this is my careful girl, and she needs a careful answer. “However long you want it.”

Her answer is a contented sigh that fills me with an inexplicable amount of satisfaction. It occurs to me that I don’t remember being this happy even when I hoisted the championship trophy, and that doesn’t bother me one bit.





25





Lucy




“You don’t work today, right?”

“It’s Friday, right?” It’s hard to concentrate these days.

“All day, Goldie.”

I shiver when he uses the nickname. “Then no. Not until tomorrow.”

“And your last class is over at…”

“One,” I fill in.

“I’ll meet you outside your apartment at one-thirty then.”

“For what?”

“It’s a surprise. Wear layers. I have a black Land Rover. See you then.”

He disconnects before I can muster a response. I pull the phone away from my ear. “Sure, I’d love to go to your little surprise. Thanks for asking,” I tell the phone. But was I going to refuse? No, and Matty knew that.

I text Sutton to let her know our walk is off.

Me: No walk today.

Sutton: ??

Me: Am going somewhere with Matty.

Sutton: !!

I can see her high-fiving herself.

Sutton: Charity and I were on the verge of sending you to 1C for shock therapy.

Me: Thanks for nothing.

Sutton: You’re welcome. We’re the best roommates ever.

Me: You’re my only roommates.

Sutton: Also best ever.

Me: If you say so.

But I’m smiling when I pocket my phone because she’s right. I do have the best roommates ever.

Wear layers, he’d said. Given that it’s still winter, my guess is we’re doing something outside. I find a tight-fitting pair of yoga pants, a long-sleeved thermal shirt and top that with a sweater. My long coat will keep my legs warm, and when I run out of my apartment at 1:30 p.m. Matty’s already there, leaning against his big black SUV, legs and arms crossed, looking delectable. I’m not the only one who thinks so. The girls from 1C are walking home from class and can’t seem to take their eyes off of him.

But Matty doesn’t spare them a glance. When he spots me, he pushes away from the truck and strides over to embrace me. Not just embrace me, but cup my head and plant a deep, hungry kiss against my lips that leaves me breathless and needy.

“Let’s go upstairs and count how many condoms are left,” I tell him when he lets me go.

He grins but shakes his head. “Nope. We’re going sledding. We’ll do the condom thing later.”

“Sledding?”

“Yeah, snow, hill, plastic rectangle.” He makes a downward gesture with his hand that I suppose simulates sledding. “Come on.” He tugs me forward excitedly.

“I haven’t been sledding since I was a kid,” I admit after we’re buckled in. Matty points the SUV toward the east side of town.

“Then this will be fun. I’ll even spring for hot cocoa.”

“You big spender, you.”

He winks. “You know it.”

“Why sledding?”

“It’s less risk—” His voice catches on the word. Our eyes meet, mine filled with humor and his with surprise. He clears his throat. “Less risky than skiing. I don’t want to break a leg and screw up my season.”