Page 49 of A Pretty Fixation

“No, it doesn’t,” I weakly argue, gripping thetree as desire burns me all over. “Fucking pervert.”

I shiver as he groans into the back of my headwhile grinding against me. “I want to fuck you so bad. I want to watch you comewith my cock deep inside you. I want you to scream my name. Tell me I’m theonly one. I want you to feel me in your soul, Jordyn. I want it all.”

“You’re crazy,” I damn near whimper. My pussy isso slick. “Obsessed.” Part of me wishes he’ll pull down my jeans and take meright here against this tree with everyone not far away. Another side isfighting lust and losing.

Caleb breathes deeply at my neck before licking myskin. “You taste good. I bet the rest of you tastes just as sweet.”

“Uhh.” The moan escapes me.

He growls, hands trailing down my sides. “Let’sstart with your first kiss.”

“I won’t give it to you.”

His throaty laugh fills my ears and stimulates meeven more. “How about a challenge since we both like those? One goal for yourfirst kiss.”

“Make it three,” seeps out on a shaky breath.

“Deal.” Caleb laughs again, and I squeeze my eyesshut, realizing that I’ve weakened completely.

I elbow his stomach, and he finally backs off.When I turn, I notice he’s adjusting his crotch.

“Three goals for your first kiss,” he declares.

“You won’t score three goals.”

“Oh, Jordyn. You haven’t seen my skills. I’m goingto blow your mind on Saturday, baby. Get those sexy lips ready for me.”

The stands are loud, packed with eager fans fromboth colleges. Burgundy is the dominant shade since we’re at home.

“Wow,” Scarlett marvels, taking in the crowd. “Ididn’t know people loved soccer like that. I thought only our football team gotthis much support.”

“That’s good.” I glance at the field as we walk bythe sideline. The teams are warming up.

Butterflies start a party in my tummy when I makeout Caleb.

We head up, and a friend of Scarlett’s points toher bench. She scoots over so we can sit.

Not long after, the whistle blows, signaling thestart of the match.

People jump to their feet and begin cheering.

We do the same.

Girls hold up signs and shout the names ofplayers.

Many holler for Caleb, phones out to record him.

That reminds me of his highlight reels and howunprofessional they seem. They barely capture his love for soccer.

It gives me an idea.

“I’m going to make a highlight for Caleb,” I sayto Scarlett and pull out my phone.

Her green eyes expand. “Well, that’s a consideratething to do for your boyfriend.”

“He isn’t,” I grumble and flick to the soccerfield before she says anything else, shouting along with the crowd. “Go Ravens!Woop! Woop!”

The match kicks off with a lot of momentum. But astime passes, it starts to look as if it will be a scoreless first half.

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