Stroke.
If I didn’t get signed this year, it wouldn’t just be an insult—it’d be the end of my career. Only two years in and I was fucked beyond repair.
But If I didn’t get laid, none of it would matter. My cock would fucking explode before I could negotiate my signing bonus. Not sure a eunuch could make it in the league.
Breathe.
I hit the end of the pool and surfaced to study a pair of delicate and sleek cocoa legs slipping beneath the ripples. Leah dropped her laptop and purse on a lounge chair, and she wrapped her skirt a little higher on her thighs. She kicked her perfectly painted toes in the water.
“Hey.” Her voice was soft. She knew she got caught where she didn’t belong. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing your pool. It’s really hot out here this evening.”
And now the water fucking boiled.
I shook my head, dragging a hand through my wet hair. Leah recognized my smirk.
“Anything for my little woman.”
“Jack.”
“Mrs. Carson.”
Leah exhaled. “I knew this was a bad idea. I should have just called.”
“Probably.”
“I thought we could be adults.”
I glanced at those toned, dark legs. I didn’t let her get away. I grabbed her toes under the water and tickled. She cracked a smile before she could scold me.
“Last time I had you here, we did a very adult thing,” I said.
Leah cleared her throat. She tried to stand. I didn’t let her up. Instead, I spread her legs and moved between them. She squealed, covering the crest between her legs with a frantic hand stuffed in her skirt. Didn’t matter to me. I remembered what was there, how it looked, tasted, felt against my lips.
I had to feel it again.
“Jack, what are you doing?” Her breath teased me with the tiniest of gasps. Not fear. Not worry.
Lust.
“You know damn well what I’m doing.” I tugged her legs wider apart. “Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?”
“Apparently I turn you into a beast. Let me go.”
I grinned and pulled her leg up. The water lapped low against my trunks. It covered my cock, but not by much. I kissed her toes, her heel, the sensitive arch.
“Jack, let me go.”
“Why?”
Her brow furrowed, but her words clipped as I sucked on her toe. “I don’t need to give you a reason.”
“I want one.”
“I said no.”
“You’re afraid you’ll like this.”
Leah swallowed. “We can’t do this, Jack.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I said. “Just kissing you a little.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“You don’t want to be kissed?” I teased further up her leg. I thanked whatever fertility god blessed the pool with cold water. It kept me from exploding with those curves so near my fingertips. “You know my reputation better than anyone. Am I known as a generous lover?”
My tongue flicked behind her knee. She shivered.
“I doubt you’ve ever thought of anyone but yourself,” she said.
“Ouch.” I nipped her inner-thigh as a punishment. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been thinking only of you these past few days.”
“I’m supposed to believe that?” Her words shuddered as I edged closer, resting her other leg on my shoulders. Her skirt bumped high enough for a peek of her panties.
Pink today.
Innocent.
Fucking sexy.
She stared at me, meeting my gaze as I kissed slower, lower, drifting towards a part of her that watered my mouth. I fisted my cock twice a day just in memory of her taste. Now there she was. Waiting. Trembling.
Wetter than me, and I was in the pool.
“You’ve only been thinking of how to get me into bed,” she said.
“Not just the bed. The floor. Against the wall. Over the arm of the couch.”
“Jack—”
“I want to watch you come.”
“W—what?”
I pushed her legs apart, breathing heavy against her warm flesh. She panicked against her own desire.
“I want to watch you come. Once wasn’t enough, Kiss. Twice won’t be enough. If I had it my way, I’d leave you naked and writhing on my bed from now until we both passed out from exhaustion. Then I’d wake you up just so I could taste that sweet cream of yours again. You get me?”
“I…I can’t.”
“You can’t come?” My grin wasn’t meant to reassure her. I gave her fair warning before she was about to get devoured. “Sure, you can, Kiss. You’ll come hard the instant I slide my tongue over that little clit. I’ll suck on it a bit, make you purr. Lap up all that honey inside you until you scream my name and I forgive you for rejecting me.”
“Jack—”
“I want to make you come. I want to hear you thank me with a moan. I want to taste your pleasure. And I want to own this little pussy’s every quivering pulse. You get it yet?” My fingers dug into her thighs. “And you’re gonna let me because you know damn well it’s all you’ve thought about too.”
Her legs fell open for me. Those pink panties were in my way. I’d have bitten through them if I wasn’t worried I’d accidentally nip what I planned to worship, sink into, grind against in a moment of pure ecstasy.
My cock hardened until it threatened to rupture. No time to drag the material away. I pushed it to the side with a quick flick of my fingers, exposing the delicate little crest.
Leah held her breath before I sunk between her legs.
She released it in a surprised gasp the instant my tongue whipped against her clit. I took every last fold and petal within my mouth and savored the part of her I wanted only to taste and touch and fuck until we collapsed.
She didn’t need teased, and I waited too long to eat her again. My lips curled over her clit, and I suckled just the way I did before, just to hear that throaty groan turn to utter panic at the rush of sensation and excitement and pleasure. Her bastard fiancé never made her feel like this. Even better, I knew her fingers couldn’t replicate this feeling when she thought of me alone in bed at night.
Leah’s head fell back. Her hips angled up. Now I knew why she was so desperate to stay out of my arms. She knew the instant I grabbed her would be the moment I never let her go. Not until she fucking melted into a puddle of spent orgasm and slid from my arms.
And even then, it just made her easier to fuck.
I liked my women exhausted. Panting. Agonized. But I never got a chance to destroy one in pleasure before. I never wanted to, never enjoyed it before Leah.
But I could watch this woman writhe all afternoon. I’d work her gasping breath and boiling core into a frenzy, and then I’d let her crumple while I wrapped her legs around her. I planned to fuck this woman delirious with her own desire.
A night of continuous pleasure.
A cock buried inside a clenching, dripping, begging pussy.
Watching as Leah came and came and came against me.
Fuck, why the hell did I work my entire life for a championship when the only goddamned thing I wanted was to give this woman the ultimate delight of my tongue flicking against her clit?
“Jack…” Her fingers ran through her hair, gripped the cement, reached for me. Nothing would ease that need in her. One orgasm or a hundred, it wouldn’t matter when the girl wanted to be fucked and fucked hard. “I’m…I’m…”
She didn’t have to say it. I felt it. The tensing of her body, the clenching of that perfect pussy over my tongue. She whispered my name, but it sounded louder in my head than when they announced me entering the stadium on game day.
Leah arched and bucked and exploded for me, on me, because of me, and nothing in my life looked more beautiful than that woman enjoying the gift I gave her.
She sunk to the cement, resting against the warmed concrete and letting her legs fall wide.
She was mine.
“Jack, God...”
Wasn’t the first time I was compared to a deity. Wouldn’t be the last either.
Enough of this bullshit. I had no contract extension. Articles were going to run labeling me some sort of sexual predator.
Fuck it.
Why not get one good thing tonight?
I hauled myself out of the pool, stopping only to gather Leah in my arms. I was soaking wet, and she murmured about her clothes, but they wouldn’t stay on her long enough to matter.
I busted through my living room, tracking water over the carpet. I’d rip it up and buy a new one, I didn’t care. Leah whispered a protest. Hell no. I wasn’t letting her cool off.
I stopped where we were, lifted her in my arms, and took another kiss—deep and hot and promising so much more than a simple orgasm delivered poolside.
Leah moaned, gripping me tight.
I was in.
I had her.
I steadied her over my couch. The TV blasted loud. The remote hid somewhere, fuck if I knew. I’d ignore it…
…But the sports channel I watched said my name.
Like a moth to the goddamned bug zapper, I was drawn to my own destruction.
“…No amount of talent is worth it. Jack Carson would be one-hundred million dollars’ worth of trouble.”
Sons of bitches. I knew the anchor—Ainsley Ruport, some silver-haired douchebag who never stepped onto a field but thought he could play quarterback better than me. I threatened a lot of reporters. Only one deserved the punch, and I was pissed I never got the chance to crush his nose in.