Page 21 of Refusing Kendall

His smile turns soft, “You can call me whatever you want, as long as I get to see that beautiful face.”

Normally, it’s Lucas or Goose that melt my heart with their words, but every now and then, Mav and T will too. This is one of those moments. Feeling my face turn hot, I change the subject, “What time is it out there?” His free hand comes up to rub absently at those sexy abs, making my mouth water and has me wishing he was here in front of me.

“It’s nine here,” he says, “Coach said we could go out, but to stay in pairs and not to get in any trouble, or we won’t be playing the rest of the season.”

I don’t know why that turns my stomach, but it does. The quad is sexy as fuck, and I know for a fact that they get hit on all the time here. Being out there, it’s a different world and a different variety of women who will more than likely throw themselves at them. On the other hand, I don’t want them to miss out on anything in life because of me. If they want to go out and party with the team, I don’t want to be the deciding factor on if they go or not. Eventually, that may lead to disappointment and resentment, so I don’t bother asking if the others went, or if he’ll join them later.

Turns out that I don’t have to, as T continues, “None of us are interested in that scene. We’re happy with what we’ve got, and that’s just asking for trouble. I did, however, kick them out of the room for the next little while. The door’s locked, but that will only keep Goose out for so long.”

I laugh, not just because it’s true, but also because I’m relieved that they didn’t go out. My movement jars the phone a little, and I hear T groan, “What are you wearing, sweets? Is that my old game jersey?”

“Maybe,” I reply sheepishly.

His hand moves down his chest until I can’t see it anymore. The next words he speaks are deeper than the ones before, “Get up and go to my closet.”

Without asking any questions, I do as he requests. Once I’m inside, I do a twirl so he can see that followed his directions.

“Now shut the door,” he says.

As I do, I come face to face with a floor length mirror hanging on the back it.

“Flip your camera to the rear facing one,” he orders.

The sound that comes out of his mouth as I do what he says, practically melts me into a puddle right there on the floor. I see myself on the screen and do a sexy pose for him. and there’s a beep telling me that he just took a screenshot of our call.

“What are you going to do with that?” I tease.

“This is going to be my background on everything that I own, for one,” he states. “Two, I’m going to enjoy pissing the guys off when I tell them they have to get their own.”

“And, the third is obvious. Look what you do to me,” he says as the angle changes, and I get a full view of the tent in the front of the thin shorts that he has on.

If he keeps this up, I really will be nothing more than a puddle on the floor.

As if reading my mind, he tells me, “Go get back in my bed, sweets. Just leave the door open enough so that I can see you.”

Crawling back up in bed, I set the phone down so that I can take off his jersey.

He barks out a “No” before I barely grabbed the bottom of it. “Just lift it up high enough where I can see that sexy body.”

I do, and he lets out another groan, “Goddamnit. I wish I was fucking home. Touch yourself for me, sweets. I want to watch your face and hear those little noises you make as you cum for me, laying in my bed, in my jersey.”

There’s no way I’m making him ask twice for that one. I’m already so close to the edge that all it takes is a few minutes of swift finger play before I’m crying out his name. A couple seconds later, T groans, and I get to watch him in all his glory. His head presses back into the pillows as a look of pure bliss passes over his face. I don’t know if it’s by accident, or on purpose, but the camera slips a little. I’m awarded with the sight of him just as his own orgasm hits. It makes me want him all over again. It also leaves me feeling pretty powerful, knowing that I was the cause of that. I find myself wanting to lick the evidence splashed against those abs.

“You keep looking at me like that, and we’re going to go again,” he assures me.

Horny as hell, and wishing that all of my quad were home, I feel wicked as I dare, “I don’t think you can.”

Firsts For Us

Waking up the next morning, it takes me a minute to fully remember where I am. At home, I can tell each room just by smell alone. No matter whose bed I wake up in, I can always tell where I am, even if they aren’t with me. Since Teagan has been gone so long, the space still feels like him, but it doesn’t smell like him anymore. Rolling over, I check my phone to see that I actually got to sleep in. It’s past ten already. Normally, the guys are up at the ass crack of dawn, waking me up on a Saturday. The whole thing has to be considered a ritual at this point. I guess since they’re three hours behind, they’re taking advantage and sleeping in too.

Stretching out lazily, my mind goes back to last night and the fact that I didn’t get to sleep until around two. I dozed off on Teagan a few times as we were talking, and he kept having to wake me back up. It wasn’t until the guys practically beat his door down that he finally let me go after I said goodnight to them all. It puts a smile on my face, even when there’s butterflies in my stomach. Away games make me anxious as fuck, because I’m always worried something bad might happen, and I won’t be there. Not like I’d be able to do much of anything if I were there, but it would make me feel better. At least I get to spend the day with Ryleigh, and I’m not stuck by myself.

With that thought, I reluctantly get up and grab some clothes from my bag to go take a shower. By the time I’m out, a heavenly smell is drifting up the stairs from the kitchen. I throw on some jeans, and my game day shirt that the guys had made for me with all of their numbers on it. Anyone that really pays attention to us would be able to guess that I’m with the four of them. Some days I feel like we make it blatantly obvious.

Not bothering to do anything but towel dry my hair and throw it up in a messy bun on my head, I race downstairs to see what Ryleigh is up to. As I round the corner, though, I see it’s not Ryleigh in the kitchen. I only hesitate for a second before launching myself at Lucas’ youngest older brother, Lincoln.

He catches me easily as I exclaim, “Ryleigh didn’t tell me that you were going to be here!”

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