Page 77 of Wicked Scorn
“You about ready to head back out there?” I ask, keeping my own voice casual despite the way my pulse is kicking up a notch. “Watch two of my brothers finish demolishing these chumps?”
Oakley’s tongue darts out again, swiping slowly across her full lower lip. “Lead the way.”
I don’t need to be told twice. Reaching for her hand, I tug her close and head for the door that will take us back out to the sidelines. I only stop and grab an ice pack so I can kill two birds with one stone.
As we emerge from the tunnel, the sound of the crowd washes over us in a wave of noise and energy.
Slinging an arm around her shoulders, I pull her snug against my side. She nestles in easily, that plump lower lip caught between her teeth in the most delicious way.
I may be out the rest of the game, but now I get to sit with my girl and watch the sport I love even if I can’t play it right this minute.
Somehow, I’m perfectly fine with the outcome.
Chapter 29
Oakley
The cheer of the crowd is basically a wall of sound that vibrates through my bones. I barely hear Jeremiah’s voice as he talks to Ramsey, his cousin. Their deep laughter cuts through the chaos, but barely. The scent of sweat and grass fills my nostrils. It’s November, but the heat generated by all these people in the stands makes it warm. My heart races, not from the game, but Jeremiah being here with me. It’s non-existent to watch a football game with my boyfriend. Wait, is he my boyfriend?
My pretty boy slides his hand up the back of my skirt, fingers grazing my skin with possessive ease. I feel every nerve ending light up, a rush of butterflies exploding in my stomach. His touch is thrilling and comforting, a reminder of who he is and what we mean to each other. Despite the noise around us, I lean into him, seeking safety in his dominance.
“Sorry, baby. Did you miss me, bunny?” His voice is low, almost a growl, and it sends shivers down my spine.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. I grin up at him,unable to keep up the sassy facade. I tell him, “I didn’t mind you were talking with Ramsey. I just like being able to be here with you.”
“Good.” His hand moves to my ribcage and then even higher, teasing, almost cupping my breast. It’s a bold, claiming assertion, one that makes my pulse quicken and my breath hitch. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the power dynamic between us is intoxicating. He wants everyone around us to know that I belong to him, and that makes me want to melt into a puddle of goo right here at his feet.
The final whistle blows, signaling the Spartans’ victory. The crowd erupts in a thunderous wave of cheers. Their movements are like a tidal force that sweeps everyone onto their feet. Jeremiah doesn’t let go of me, his grip tightening as he turns to face me fully. He’s focused on me and only me in this moment. His green eyes lock onto mine, blazing with triumph and something darker.
“Come here,” he commands, pulling me closer. There’s no room for hesitation or defiance; his need is palpable, that I couldn’t fight off even if I wanted to. Before I can react, his lips crash against mine in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.
It’s raw, possessive, a very public declaration that I belong to him. If he wasn’t so possessive I’d be concerned he’d try and eat me out right here. His mouth moves hungrily over mine, claiming me in front of everyone. I can taste the salt of his sweat, feel the roughness of his stubble against my skin. My hands clutch at his t-shirt, desperate for something to anchor me to this man who means everything to me.
“Jeremiah—” I try to speak between kisses, but he silences me with another fierce kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of us. I couldn’t care less who is watching orwhat they think. Jeremiah is the only thing that matters to me now.
“You’re mine, Oakley,” he murmurs against my mouth, his words searing into my soul. “Don’t ever forget that. I want the whole fucking world to know that you belong to me.”
“Never,” I breathe, my voice trembling with bittersweet happiness. “I could never forget.”
His eyes flash with satisfaction, and he finally pulls back, just enough to look at me. The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming. The crowd may be cheering for the Spartans, but all I can hear is the pounding of my own heart.
The cheers begin to die down, the crowd’s euphoria ebbing slightly as they talk amongst themselves and start to trickle out of the stadium. Jeremiah’s eyes lock onto mine, and I can tell right away that he’s telling me it’s time to go. He needs to be alone with me. There’s a fire in those green depths.
I whisper, breathless, “What are you thinking?”
He doesn’t answer me with words. Just a gaze burning through me, speaking volumes. My curiosity piques. He’s always been good at this—leaving me hanging, wanting more.
I think maybe he’s going to grab my hand and pull me with him, but I’m so wrong. In one fluid motion, he scoops me up into his strong arms. It’s like I’m weightless, cradled against the hard planes of his chest as he starts heading toward the parking lot.
“Put me down, you oaf. You literally just got injured on the field.” He grumbles, but doesn’t say anything else as we walk right out of the Spartan crowd.
“It’s bruised, not broken. Besides, I need you,” he murmurs when we reach his bike, his voice a husky growl. Assoon as my feet hit the ground, Jeremiah’s hands have their own agenda, roaming over my body with unabashed desire. One moment he’s gripping my waist, the next he’s sliding under my skirt, fingers exploring, teasing. “Fuck, baby. I knew you’d be this wet for me. I’m practically salivating to taste you.”
Jeremiah’s thick fingers push inside my tight pussy, and I gasp, trying to keep my composure. “What—” Making out at his football game in front of all his teammates is one thing, but we’re in the middle of the parking lot and he’s knuckle deep inside me.
“Shh,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “I love this outfit on you. Makes me want to bend you over my bike and fuck you raw. I want to watch my cum leak down your thighs right now, bunny.”
Arousal floods through me, mingling with the remnants of adrenaline from the way he carried me out of the arena and the chance of us getting caught. The world fades to a blur of sensations—the roughness of his stubble against my cheek, the scent of his soap and sweat, the way his fingers curl inside me, hitting just the right spot.
