Go Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance(15)

I slapped her ass as she came, making her moan louder. Watching her get off drove me insane. Her whole body tensed and shuddered, going into slight spasms as she rode me.

She slowly finished. I pulled her off and stood up on the bench. I ripped the condom from my cock, took her by the hair, and pushed my cock down her throat.

“Suck it until I come,” I commanded.

She moaned and went to work, letting my cock fuck her mouth and slide down her throat. I was so fucking close, and the idea of coming in her pretty little mouth set me on fire.

I slid my cock deep into her throat, pushing her down by her hair, fucking her lips.

“Oh fuck,” I grunted. “Swallow my fucking cum.”

She moaned in response, and I could feel it building, building. I was inches away when she moaned again and looked up at me.

I came in that moment. My orgasm burst through me, and I shot my cum right down her throat. She didn’t hesitate, just kept fucking sucking me, taking my big cock in her mouth. She moaned as she swallowed every single drop.

I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. Finally, my orgasm ended. I sat back down on the rim of the tub as she breathed deeply, staring at me.

I’d been needing that so fucking badly. I pulled her against me and held her as I breathed deeply, slowly coming down.

“Damn,” I said finally.

“Yeah,” she answered softly. “I agree.”

I held her there, floating, feeling incredible. I’d never felt like that before in my life, and I knew that only Taylor could get me there.

I wanted to stay in there forever as I held her, the warmth of the room washing over my body.





15





Taylor





I couldn’t get the taste of him out of my mind. All that week, it felt like I had an amazing, pleasurable ache between my legs every time I was around him.

We couldn’t see each other much outside our usual routine. The coach had him doing double time in the film room, studying up for the weekend’s game. It was a huge match, and the staff wanted him to be ready to carry the load.

I knew that what had happened was a mistake, but I wasn’t going to obsess about it. There was just no reason. I had given in to what I’d wanted, and I had thought that would finally get Owen off my mind.

It didn’t. In fact, it only made me want him even more. The memory of the way he made me feel kept me awake at night, dreaming about his body against mine.

The man was incredible. He had taken me and owned me the way I wanted to be taken, the way only a man like him possibly could. There was no going back from someone like that. Once I gave myself to him, I knew I was his for as long as he wanted me.

But I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I couldn’t read his mind. He was just so stressed about the upcoming game, so busy, which only made me worry about his knee more. His rehab seemed to be doing good, and he looked strong on the field, but I couldn’t tell with him. Owen was good at masking his pain.

He said it didn’t matter. He said pain was only temporary, but glory lasted forever. I wasn’t so sure. Maybe he was right.

The week sped past. I kept thinking about that night in the hot tub, and we kept working on his rehab. We didn’t talk about what had happened, but I could see it in the way he looked at me sometimes with that cocky grin.

Saturday came, and it was game time. We did our pregame routine, but he wasn’t talkative. I stretched him out, and when I was finished, instead of getting up and heading out, he just sat there.

I leaned up against the wall. “You okay?” I asked him.

“I’m good. Just collecting myself.”

“You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

He looked up at me. “Thanks. Maybe it’s stupid, but I needed to hear that.”

That made me feel good. “How’s the knee feel?”

“Fine. Aches, but doesn’t hurt worse when I put pressure on it.”

“That’s a good sign.”

He shrugged and went silent. I sat down next to him, and we sat together for a couple of minutes, not talking.

I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his brain. This was a big game for the team, and it was a huge game for him. Really, every game was a big game for him, since this was his chance to prove that he belonged in the league, and that he was the star everyone thought he was. I could really only guess at the enormous amount of pressure he was under.

“I want to tell you something,” he said finally, “but I don’t know how to say it.”

I cocked my head at him. He gazed back at me, looking serious. I was taken aback for a second, surprised by his expression. Owen was rarely serious.

“Okay,” I said. “Just say it. I’ll listen.”

He frowned at me, staring and not speaking. Finally, he cracked a smile. “Your pussy is the most delicious little thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.”

I sighed, smiling slightly. “Is that really what you wanted to say?”

He stood up. “Of course. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

He nodded and disappeared through the door.

I sat there staring after him, wondering what he had really wanted to say. I knew it wasn’t that stupid joke, but I couldn’t prove it. There had just been something in his expression, some subtle emotion I couldn’t quite name. It was maybe a kind of sadness that I’d never seen in him before.

Eventually, I got up and headed down the hallway, toward the field. I could sit around and obsess over every little look Owen gave me, but in the end I had a job to do, and I was going to do it right.





16





Owen





I felt my knee the second I got on the turf.

I’d been fine all week. Stressed, sure, but my knee hadn’t been bad. But for some reason, as soon as I stepped out there, ready to perform, the pain flared up. I could feel it all through my leg, sharp and stinging.

I couldn’t back down, though. We lost the coin toss and received the ball first, so I was out in the formation immediately, ready to take my first carry.

There was nothing like getting that ball in my hands and running right up the fucking gut. I loved bursting through guys, dropping my shoulder and leading with my head. The only thing comparable was feeling Taylor’s tight pussy wrapped around my cock as I fucked her in the hot tub.

I hit that pile on my first carry and was tackled almost immediately. Pain flared, but I swallowed it, ignored it. I went back to work.

Carry after carry. I wasn’t getting much open running room, so I had to grind for every fucking inch. Brutal, physical, and painful, I played that game with everything I had.

We were losing at halftime. The coach was pissed, mostly at the offensive line. They weren’t getting a good push off, so there were no gaps opening for me to run through. I was getting short gains, maybe four yards, and my best run was only for ten yards. It was rough and slow going, and our passing offense wasn’t doing much better.

The second half rolled around. I caught Taylor watching me as I trotted out onto the field for our first possession. We were down by two touchdowns. I could tell she knew something was up with me. She was concerned, but she wasn’t saying anything.

I knew she could go to the coach and tell him right away. If she did, she might get in some trouble, but I’d be pulled from the game for sure. He wasn’t going to risk his star player.

But I had my reasons for staying. I had a lot of money riding on this game, and I wasn’t sure what would happen if we actually lost. I needed to get out there and make something happen.

I was desperate. Play after play, I put my body on the line, my whole career on the line, and we kept getting pushed back. I could feel the game turning away from us, moving in the opposite direction.

The third quarter ended, and we were still down by two touchdowns. I was gaining nothing, and my knee still ached.

Fourth quarter started. I was given the ball on the thirty-yard line. I saw a gap between the center and the right guard and hit it hard, bursting past the linebacker that came to fill the gap, slamming him over. I felt something in my knee tweak, but I just kept running. I saw open field ahead of me.

Ten yards, twenty yards. I could smell the fucking end zone.

And then a burning, screaming pain shot up my leg and I was tumbling over, sliding along the grass.

It took me a second to realize what had happened. As I lay there listening to the scream of the crowd, I realized that someone had caught up and tripped me up from behind.

One of my linemen helped me to my feet. Pain flared up along my knee.

I had to make a choice. We were on the edge of the end zone, but my knee was in serious pain. I knew that if I ignored it, I could do real damage.

I looked around and listened. I caught Taylor’s eye on the sidelines, and she shook her head. “Don’t,” she mouthed.

She knew what had happened. She could see it in the way I was standing. I went into the huddle, and I had one second to make my choice.

The play came through. It was a running play right up the gut. Coach wanted me to find the end zone, finish my run up. He was trusting me with this, one of the most important plays of the game.

If we failed to make it into the end zone here and settled for the field goal, we were likely doomed. But we had enough time to catch them, or maybe even snag a win, if I went for it here.

Then again, if I went for it and succeeded but blew out my knee, I’d be done for the season. My whole career was riding on this moment, and I didn’t know what to do.