Page 100 of Second Down Fake

"I'm pretty sure they cheated."

He chuckled. "Are you?"

"They had to. How else do you explain it?" I reached behind his head, running my fingers through his hair and running by fingertips in circles on his skull. "You're too good for that bullshit. An interception? That's gotta be witchcraft or a deal with a demon."

Diego closed his eyes, tilting his head forward. "So, just one player or the whole team?"

"I think you have to deal with a couple dozen demons to win over every team, and witchcraft is definitely a group effort. So, the whole team."

"Wow," Diego groaned as I ran my nails in circles. "I played with a couple of those guys in college.”

"And they didn't mention anything? Bad friends."

I reluctantly pulled my hand away when we reached the house. As we walked up the drive, Diego took my hand, interlacing our fingers.

I unlocked the door, and Diego’s lips crashed into mine as the door closed. His arms snaked around me, lifting me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. We ricocheted off the walls as he stumbled down the hallway, his lips wandering from my lips down my neck, teeth nipping at my skin and his palm gripping my ass. Desperation and urgency creating a cacophonous mix.

A goodbye fuck.

The thought startled me, but I'd certainly had enough to spot the signs: the impending goodbye, the urgency, the flood of emotions funneled into action.

But not Diego. A goodbye to our contract, to the mandated part of our relationship, to a brief trip back home.

Diego carried me to the base of the stairs, pinning me against the wall as he stripped off my t-shirt. I threw it to the ground. He fumbled with the clasp of my bra. The fabric hung between us, his fingers rough and familiar against my skin. His fingernails raked down my spine as he careened us into the living room, bouncing off the tiny side table and knocking a pile of artfully arranged magazines off their perch.

He dropped me onto the couch, pulling off his shirt, his eyes roving down my body as if he hadn’t spent the last three months intimately acquainted with it. Memorizing me. The same way I memorized him: the faint mark on his right shoulder, the smattering of faint freckles on his chest, the faded incision scar on his waist from an appendectomy. Tiny reminders that this wasn’t Diego Salazar, Football Adonis. This was Diego Salazar, Mississippi frat bro, disc golf pro, and owner of every video game system known to man.

He unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them off fast enough to impress a trained magician, before he covered me, kissing me, licking me, holding me. His cock was hard against my leg, my body writhing beneath him, just as eager.

The season was over, and I wanted nothing more than to suffocate out that fact. Smother it. Burn it. Fuck football.

He inhaled a shuddering breath. I closed my eyes. “Wait.”

“Wait?” He raised an eyebrow.

I pressed my palm against his chest, pushing him back. I wanted him, but not like this. Not a fast fuck on the couch before we said our goodbyes. A frenzied release and then a night of awkwardness, both of us hedging around what had to be said. What we should have talked about weeks before. Months before.

I sat up, and Diego raked a hand through his hair, his eyes frazzled and confused until I slid over his lap. “I can wait.”

I guided him into me with one hand, fighting back tears. His arms circled my waist, and I tilted my head back, thinking of anything besides the fact it felt like goodbye.

His lips grazed across my nipples before latching on, the quick rush of pleasure forcing out my intrusive thoughts. This was fine. We were fine. Tomorrow, we'd wake up without the contract looming over our head and start over. Despite the rumors and the articles, he'd feel the same way about me he did a week ago. I'd just make a brief detour through New Hampshire.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth closer as I rode him. Pleasure overtook the questions running through my head, and I let the moment invade me. Diego's short choppy breaths, the shape of his body in and against mine, and the warm sense of belonging I felt in his arms.

* * *

I woke up exhausted, the prospect of packing or talking or doing anything besides lying in bed an impossibility.

"I have to get to practice." Diego, fully dressed, stood over the bed. "What's your plan for today?"

"Golden chocobo breeding, maybe breakfast, packing to go home, I guess."

"Exciting." He cupped my face in his hands, dipping his head down so his nose brushed mine. "I wish I could join you."

"Well, good news. You'll have all the time in the world for breeding chocobos once I'm gone."

A flicker of a frown crossed his face. "Would it be okay if I asked James to stop by this morning? Close out the contract before I get home?"

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