Page 111 of Touchdown, Tennessee
“Going to come for you,” he uttered, his words broken up by breaths.
“I’m coming, Gray?—”
The world disintegrated into pure sensation as I fucked him into my desk and I came so hard I couldn’t think anymore. I let go as I felt him come on my hand, and I stroked him through it, taking him every step of the way.
Mine.
Yours.
How are you exactly what I fucking need?
I was breathing so hard I swore I might pass out, but every goddamn moment of it was worth it. I eased out of him and snapped off the filled condom, throwing it away.
When he turned around, standing up and looking up at me with half-lidded eyes and pupils blown wide, my heart pounded harder in my chest.
He had marks all along the front of his body from being shoved against the desk.
“Next time I want it even harder,” he murmured, one corner of his mouth coming up in a little smile.
Fuck.
I think I really might love you.
It was the truth.
I didn’t care how we got there, or what it meant.
I wanted to tell him how I felt. But I couldn’t make the words come out.
He reached out, running his fingertips along my nipple, then taking a step closer to me.
He tipped his head back and pulled me down into a slow, slick kiss, sliding his tongue deep in my mouth before pulling away.
“You’re a lot of fun, Peach.”
CHAPTER 18
GRAY
The morning the article was published, something in the air was different.
Maybe it was the cold October breeze, blowing the leaves all around the quad.
Or the deep ache in my ass from where Andrew had pounded me last night, for the third time this week, as I bit down on his fist—and the bite marks I could still feel along my chest, from where he’d retaliated later on.
I knew he probably felt it, too.
I knew he wouldn’t trust me, notfully, until he had the article in his hands. All there was left to do was wait. The Homecoming game was later today, and Andrew had a light warm-up practice this morning, bright and early.
And as I approached the football field, for the first time all semester, I was nervous about it.
I’d written the article I knew I needed to write.
I’d done it in a rushed, feverish state, which wasn’t how I’d ever written an article before.
It took place over three days, when usually, I’d spend weeks and weeks editing my words. Making everything carefully perfect.
This article flowed out of me like a bolt from the sky.
