Page 84 of Faking It with the Forward

My hand drops to the edge of her panties, and I push my fingers beneath the fabric. I brush against her clit, rubbing her until her hips buck forward.

“But most of all…” I kiss down the flat expanse of her stomach, all the way to her thighs. I press my lips against the tattoo on her left thigh and then the right, skimming my thumb over the design. I feel the ridge of scarred flesh underneath, the reminders of her self-harm. “I want the whole goddamn world to know you’re mine.”

I bite her hip, dragging my teeth down to the edge of her panties. Hooking my fingers in the waistband, I yank them off, eyes trained on her pussy.

I want her to know that she belongs to me. That no man will ever touch her or hurt her again. I want to say these things, but that’s not who we are outside of this house. But inside? Now? I’m going to claim her as my own.

“You’re mine, Sunshine.” I lick her clit. “Tell me you understand that.”

“I do,” she says, voice caught in a shudder. My mouth is on her clit, sucking the hot nerves between my lips. Her knees tremble and her fingers twist in my hair, pulling my mouth against her pussy. She’s close, but I’m feeling selfish.

“Hold on, baby.” I give her pussy one last kiss and stand. “Please don’t come until I’m inside of you.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her up and carry her to the bed. Laying her flat on her back, I stand over her for a long time, taking in every last inch of her. She’s perfect. Perfect hair. Perfect eyes. Perfect mouth. Don’t get me started on her tits and pussy because I could survive on nothing else for days.

“You’re teasing me,” she says, squirming under my gaze. “Come here.”

I don’t resist, climbing over her, sliding my arm under her back to lift her toward the headboard. Her hands flatten on my chest, exploring the hard muscle. I don’t feel solid, like I could melt under her touch. Like this girl liquifies me, turning me into something hot and volatile. Combustible.

The only thing that’ll make me feel whole again is being inside. Fumbling with the drawer in her bedside table, I grab a condom, and quickly roll it on.

Her thighs fall to the side, inviting me in, and I settle between her legs. With one hand by her head and the other stroking a long path from her chest to her belly, I push in with a groan.

Her pussy is still crazy, deliciously, tight.

“Fuck,” I breathe, jaw clenching to maintain control.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I lost control the first time I kissed this girl.

Her hips rise and her legs coil around my waist, allowing me to sink in deeper. I chase that feeling, wanting to be caught in a stranglehold. She meets me thrust for thrust, breath for breath, until my balls are full, aching with the need for release. I press my forehead to hers, crushing her to the mattress when she cries out against my mouth, the orgasm rushing over.

The quiver of her pussy around me is all it takes to send me falling after her.

Fallingforher.

There is no fucking doubt in my mind, it’s as clear as the lamp light signaling a goal, or the post-coital bliss glowing off the girl beneath me.

I’m in love.

* * *

It’s notunusual to wake up in the Manor to the sound of two of my roommates fighting over the Xbox or the last frozen waffle. Once Reid and Jeff got in an actual physical altercation over who left wet clothes in the washing machine for three days, making the house reek of mildew. I jumped out of bed and scrambled downstairs, almost taking a hit from Reid’s fist as he went after Jefferson.

Spoiler alert: they were Axel’s clothes. He left them in there and then went to spend the long weekend at the Kappa sorority house.

And although I’m not particularly pleased my girl isn’t in the bed next to me, the sound of soft female voices in the living room is a hell of a better way to wake up in the morning.

I’d laid awake long after Twyler fell asleep, thinking about our relationship. It wasn’t just sex brain talking when I told her that I wanted her to be mine. This girl is everything I want. I can’t get enough of her. I want her in bed and out. I want to see her wearing my name and number on her back—in public. I want to hold her hand and kiss her whenever I want to.

Because I can’t keep going on pretending like this isn’t a thing.

I love her and it’s time we figure out how we’re going to move forward.

It’s not going to be easy, but I’m willing to talk to Coach Green about it–even Bryant. He made me captain for a reason–I’m levelheaded and show good leadership. I can juggle a girlfriend working with the team just as much as I can keep a bench full of knuckleheaded hockey players in line.

Sitting up, I search the room for my discarded clothing. I’ve just found my shirt in the corner, behind the desk, when I hear Twyler say my name in the other room.

“Reese said that if you want to file a report, he and Axel will both make a statement.”

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