Page 25 of Game Changer
What the fuck doesthatmean?
She closes the door before I have the chance to ask, and now I’m furious when I storm into my room. It’s an effort not to slam the door. Is she having someone over tonight? Is that why she apologized for the thin walls?
I have no right to be a jealous man, especially when she was never mine to begin with. She’s had way more experience than me, so it’d be reasonable for her to move on faster. I can’t even think of starting something with another girl. It’s going to take a hell of a lot longer for me to get over our night together when the reality of the situation is our night of fucking was just that to her.Fuckingand nothing more.
My mood turns sour and I plop down on my bed and grab the remote. I’m just about to press Play on the movie when I hear it.
A buzzing.
My body stills on the mattress, my cock raging when I realize why she was apologizing for the thin walls. It wasn’t because she was inviting a man over. Maya ismasturbating, and now that’s all I can think about.
This woman.
I have no right to jack off. None. Not when she didn’t mean for me to hear this. However, she apologized in advance, so maybe shedidintend for me to hear.
Moans filter in a minute later, and they’re not muffled. They aren’t the moans of a woman who’s trying to be quiet, and dammit, I’m not strong enough for this. I’m a weak man when it comes to her; I always have been. Shame fills me when I slip my sweatpants and boxers down to my knees, release my cock, wrap my hand around it, and give it a hard tug. A bead of liquid has already formed at the tip, a representation that I never had a chance at overcoming this torturous situation in the first place.
Even though it’s wrong, I can’t help but wonder what toy she’s using. Is it a vibrator? A dildo? What does she need to bring herself a mind-blowing orgasm? I’d like to think I know her, so I imagine it’s a vibrator that’s pink and girly. I wonder if she likes it on her clit or if she’d prefer it inside her. I wonder if she likes to finger herself at the same time.
I’m panting while I continue to stroke. My release is seconds away, but that’s not surprising since it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve done this. Sharing a bedroom with a roommate and showering with other dudes will do that to a person.
I want her in here with me while she does this. I want to watch her use that toy, or better yet,joinher while she uses that toy. I wonder if she’d like to use it on her pretty little clit while my fingers curl deep inside of her. Or would she like my tongue? I’ve never done that with a girl before, but I’d like to try with her.
Fucking hell.
I stroke myself harder and throw my head back on the pillow.
Her face when she came on my cock fills my head. It’s an image I’ll never forget, and right now, I use that as my motivation to fuck my hand over the edge of no return. The hottest fucking squeal echoes from the other side of the wall, and that’s my detonator. I shouldn’t be coming with her, but that’s exactly what I do. I fist my cock and let the ropes of come stain my sweatpants and the sheets beneath me, groaning and working myself until I feel completely empty. The sound of the vibrator shuts off a moment later, almost as if she was waiting for me to finish. I don’t doubt she heard me. I wasn’t quiet the first time and don’t plan on starting now.
But it still makes me feelgrossto have gotten off listening to her when, despite what I assume, she never verbally told me she’d be okay with it. And whywouldshe be okay with it? She ended things and has yet to explain her reasoning. For all I know, she was asking for privacy, and I just invaded a very intimate moment for her.
One by one, the thoughts barrel in.
You’re not good enough.
You’re worthless.
She didn’t want you then, and she doesn’t want you now.
Maya Garcia has always been unattainable, and this is nothing but a painstakingly brutal reminder.
Thirteen
Ethan
I told myself I wouldn’t enjoy coming to this youth football practice. Mark wanted me here, so that’s the only reason I’m striding through the grass toward the field where a bunch of kids are stretching in a circle.
Mark is standing beside an older man who is holding a clipboard—Ronnie Wilson, the coach for State. I only know this because he attended our games in high school not only to watch Mark play, since he took Mark in, but also to get a feel for the other players. He had his eye on me for a scholarship. At least, that was what my coach told me. It only makes this situation even more awkward when I approach Mark’s side.
“Hey, you made it!” Mark claps me on the back, which damn near knocks me over. The strength of this guy is insane. I’m starting to believe he reallyisThor. He turns to the group of kids, who have all suddenly grown silent as they stare at the newcomer. “Guys, I’d like you to meet—”
“Ethan Davis,” Ronnie finishes, eyeing me in a scrutinizing way. “One of the best linebackers I’ve ever seen.”
The kids alloooohlike I’m a newfound specimen.
“Where do you play now?” one asks.
“Do you go to school here?”
