“Is that true?” Owen asks, looking to Becca with a slight panic in his eyes.
I know what he’s thinking—the fact that they’re close means she wouldn’t lie to him, but the thing is, I doubt she’s in much of a position to offer an opinion. Becca’s lack of sex life has been a frequent conversation of ours. I never thought much of it—I thought she was just being choosy—but lately I’m starting to wonder if there’s more to it, and if it’s related to the sexual assault that she swears she’s past.
Owen seems to realize his mistake as Becca shrugs, her wide blue eyes on his reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights.
Sara and Teddy continue to debate on the finer points of what makes for good cunnilingus while the rest of us chuckle quietly.
My cheeks feel a little warm as Sara argues with my brother and Teddy.
Justin is seated across from me, right next to Owen, and I can feel his eyes on me the entire time. It’s unnerving because I have no idea what he’s thinking about.
Justin stays decidedly quiet during the entire debate, and I think I know exactly why that is. Unlike my brother and Teddy who rush to defend themselves, Justin doesn’t need to. He knows he’s good at it. Not just good, he’s freaking spectacular. And I know for a fact there’s no way I’d even consider faking an orgasm with him. He wouldn’t stand for it. He’s not satisfied until I’ve had at least two or three. And he’d be able to tell if it wasn’t the body-quaking, breath-stealing real thing.
“And what about giving head?” Teddy asks, voice a little too loud. I’m worried the other patrons sitting nearby are getting an earful. I place my finger over my lips as I give him a pointed stare. “Why the double standard?” he asks, lowering his voice. “Don’t you think it’s only fair women should know what they’re doing?”
Sara calmly takes a sip of her beer, thinking. She’s an attorney, so I know she’s going to win this debate, but part of the fun is I never know what’s going to come flying out of her mouth next. “Don’t kid yourself. Men are just happy to have their cock out—I could slap it around randomly and you wouldn’t complain.”
He swallows, his throat visibly bobbing. “Truth.”
He and Owen share a fist bump across the table.
We all laugh. My eyes wander to Justin and even he has cracked a smile. He’s seemed too serious tonight. I’m not sure if it’s the loss to the Spartans that has him feeling down, but at least this topic has seemed to lighten everyone’s mood. Sara is kind of genius like that. Well, everyone except for Becca. I suddenly feel a little guilty.
“Let’s get one more round,” I suggest. “And Becca can fill us all in on the latest team gossip.”
She smiles warmly at me, obviously thankful for the change in topic, and my heart squeezes a little.
At the end of the night Becca and I share a ride home, Sara takes a separate Uber and the guys stay behind. I have no doubts that Owen and Teddy will seek consolation for losing the game in the arms of a willing puck bunny, but Justin is a wildcard. It’s not that I think he’d hook up with anyone else, I trust his exclusivity pact, it’s that I don’t know if he’ll try to sneak away from the guys tonight to come and see me, or opt to hang with his buddies. I’m trying not to feel disappointed either way.
After a quiet ride across town, the car drops Becca off first, and then I’m alone with my thoughts, my eyes drifting to my phone every few minutes. Although we’d texted over the past several days, Justin and I haven’t been alone together since he’d delivered tampons to my front door. Maybe he thinks I’m still on my period. I decide to text him first, and pull out my phone, just as a message from him pops up.
Can I come over?
I grin as I type out my reply.
Of course.
Ten minutes later, I’m opening my front door to a somber looking Justin. He’s dressed in dark jeans, boots with red laces, and a gray pullover that’s been thrown on over a white t-shirt. It’s obviously the same thing he’s been wearing all night, only now I can gaze at him appreciatively.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He nods. “I’m just getting tired of lying to your brother.”
My stomach tightens. That makes two of us. I know we need to talk about where things are headed between us, but everything inside me is screaming not to. At least not right now. Not in this moment. I just want to enjoy tonight, and live in this tiny bubble for a little while longer before it all comes crashing down around us. I have a feeling if I open my mouth, all of my truth is going to come pouring out, and I’m not ready to go there yet. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready.
“Come here,” he says softly, drawing me to his chest. His strong arms close around me.
I step closer and lay my head against his chest. His heartbeat thumps out a steady rhythm and my own speeds up in agreement. I don’t ask him to tell me what he said to Owen and the other guys to get out of there tonight, though I can tell it’s weighing on him.
Two fingers under my chin lift my face toward his and then his lips touch mine. They’re firm, yet soft and I melt into his touch. His scent surrounds me and I’m overcome with so much emotion, my heart squeezes almost painfully. With a soft groan, he parts my lips with his tongue, our kiss deepening immediately with hungry urgency.
I push my fingers into the hair at the back of this neck and tug him even closer. Close enough that I can feel the pulse of his steely erection between us. That does something to me, and before I can even contemplate my next action, I’m climbing him like a damn tree.
“Yes. Come here. Fuck,” Justin groans, lifting me so I can wrap my legs around his waist, bringing us even closer together.
I can feel his excitement trapped between us, and my panties grow damp with eagerness.
With focused efficiency, Justin stalks toward my bedroom, not letting go of me for even a second. Then I’m being placed down in the center of my bed and he hovers over me, his mouth still on mine.
“Get naked,” he says, voice rough.
I’m not sure what’s changed, or what happened tonight, but this is the first time he’s been so demanding, or dared to issue a direct order. Normally he’s so sweet, checking in and asking if I’m ready. Tonight there’s a desperate gleam in his eyes and I can’t help but comply. I’m out of my jeans and sweater in about four seconds and Justin does the same, stepping out of his boots to quickly rid himself of his jeans, boxers, and shirt.
I unsnap my bra as Justin draws my panties down my thighs.
“Shit,” he curses. “I need to be inside you.”“Yes,” I murmur, body clenching wildly at the needy sound of his deep voice.
Not even ten seconds later, Justin is touching carefully between my legs, making sure I’m ready for him. A whimper tumbles from my lips, and then he positions himself at my opening—filling me—his thick cock pushing into me in gentle thrusts, as his fingers tangle in my hair and his lips brush the shell of my ear.
“So tight. So good,” he groans.
“Yes. More.” I’m practically incoherent, unable to speak in complete sentences, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to mind.
He thrusts home, and I whimper, clinging to his muscles as he moves.
“Sweet fuck, Elise.” His voice is little more than a rough growl. Chill bumps break out over the back of my neck, skating down my spine.
The pace he sets is brutal and punishing and I love every sinful second of it.
“Yes. Oh my God.” I moan and bite his neck lightly. I feel his answering smile against my chin.
“Naughty girl.” He groans against my neck, one hand pressing into my hip as he continues thrusting above me.
Soon, the time for talking is done because we’re both chasing our own release in hearty pants and breathy moans.
He feels so perfect. So good. So right.
“You getting close?” he asks, voice tight.
“Yes!” I cry out, unable to contain my excitement.
With a barely concealed chuckle, he brings one hand between us and touches me in soft circles. It’s crazy how well he knows my body—knows exactly the things to do to extract pleasure from me. And moments later, I go off like a rocket, my body spasming wildly as I climax. Without a condom, I know he can feel every pulse and flutter, and Justin isn’t far behind, squeezing my backside with one hand as he buries himself deep and comes inside me with a low groan.
“Fuck. You’re perfect,” he says, breathless as the waves of pleasure finally begin to abate.
He presses a kiss to my lips, my cheek, my chin, my temple, and I smile. Then he slowly withdraws, carefully breaking our connection. I hate the loss of his body heat, but moments later he’s back and I feel a warm, wet cloth wiping gently between my legs. I squeeze my eyes closed and fling one hand over my face while I chuckle at him.
“I can do that myself, you know?”