Carey, Kaipo, and Loren are there waiting for me, eyes wide and obviously trying to avoid my not-so-quickly deflating hard-on.
“Dude.” Kaipo says. “You and Coach’s daughter?”
I’m already committed, my dick insisting to have it no other way. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He ignores my boner but keeps his distance to give me an awkward high-five. “You got brass balls. Coach’ll make you pay for slipping it to his little princess.”
Carey shakes his head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re going for it.”
“Why not?” Loren blurts. “She’s fucking hot. I’d take Coach’s bullshit any day to get a chance with pussy that pretty.”
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” I’m about to lunge when Carey’s shocked gasp derails me.
“Oh no,” Carey mutters with horror in his voice. “Don’t tell me…” He squints. “You’re actually falling for her.”
“No. It’s just sex.” And no matter what I’m feeling inside, it’ll always only be just sex, because that’s all I’m capable of.
Chapter Seven
Emery
Finding out where Theodore lives was easy. I asked a few cheerleaders in my psychology class and after they gave me a long hard look and dismissed me as a sexual threat, they spilled the address.
My Uber pulls up to the gigantic house just before nine o’clock at night. I was expecting an overgrown yard littered with beer bottles and rusty workout equipment, not something out of a Martha Stewart magazine.
I knock on the front door and smooth my pleated, tartan skirt that hits just above the knee. I check to make sure the silk scarf tied and bowed under my oxford collar is centered.
“Coming!” The door swings open to reveal a super-muscled guy with dark skin and a playful smile. “Emery, right? I’m Kaipo, we met in the locker room.”
With my shoulders stiff and my spine straight, I nod. “I remember. Is Theodore available?”
“Theod—girl,” he chuckles. “You’re not gonna get anywhere with that man by calling him Theodore.”
I don’t smile outwardly, but he must see the grin in my eyes.
“Okay, Emery, I see you.” He laughs and opens the door wide with a smile. “Come on in, then.”
I step inside the entryway; it’s so tall and wide my footsteps echo.
“Yo, Spider! You have company!” He waits with me at the foot of the staircase.
“Why do you call him Spider?”
“His last name’s Web, and he throws a football like he’s got eight arms.”
“Spiders have eight legs. Not arms.”
“Who’s to say they’re not arms?”
I shrug. “Science.”
“No one listens to that.” A mischievous grin tilts his lips. “Do you know sign language?”
“I know a little, yes.”
“You know…” He lifts a brow. “My dick can speak sign language.”
I crack a smile. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. Feel like having a conversation?” He braces his hands on hips and rolls them forward and backwards. “Right now, he’s telling you he likes your headband.”
“Your dick has great taste.”
He wiggles his hips again. “My dick says thank you—”
“Put it away.” The menacing growl comes from the top of the steps where Theodore stands gloriously topless scowling down at us.
“All right, all right,” Kaipo winks at me. “I’ll see you around, Coach’s daughter.”
“See ya.” I turn to look up at Theodore, who hasn’t moved to come down to meet me, so I guess that means I’m making the trip up. I stop two steps before the landing.
“How did you know where I live?”
“I’m not giving away my secrets.”
His glare tightens.
“May I?” I motion to the two steps still between us.
He stiffly nods—one quick jerk of his chin.
I tentatively wrap my fingers around his tattooed hand. Two breaths later and his fingers curl around mine. “See, that’s not so hard is it?”
He doesn’t answer in words, but his expression softens in resignation. He shows me to his bedroom, closing the door behind me. Once again I’m surprised by how clean it is.
“Have a seat.” He motions to one of the two chairs in his room.
I ignore the chairs and sit at the edge of his bed. He watches with a voyeuristic heat in his gaze as I untie the bow at my neck. I pop the top button of my blouse, then the next and one more until the cleavage and white lace of my bra show. I kick off my flats, put my heel to the bed and scoot back to the middle, knees bent allowing my skirt to slip open and bunch at my hips.
He bites his lip and an animalistic growl rumbles up his throat. “You have something against underwear?”
“Unnecessary obstacle.” I unbutton the rest of my shirt, peeling the two sides apart. “You said you wanted to play with me.” I take the black silk that was around my neck and use it as a blindfold, tying it tightly over my eyes. “Let me be your playground.” I lie down on the bed, completely exposed and vulnerable. My heart races with excitement because a man like Theodore won’t be able to hold back his baser instincts when I offer myself as prey to his predator.
His desk chair creeks and his bare feet pad against the wood floor, growing louder as he draws closer. I tremble with anticipation, the memories of our first night together still fresh in my mind, my body desperate to relive it.
Fingers bite into the skin at my knees as he grips hard and presses them into the mattress. Exposing me to the cold air in the room, I gasp when his hot, wet tongue licks up my inner thigh. “You taste like forgiveness,” he mumbles against my skin.
“What does—”
“Quiet, kitten.”
My pulse pounds at his display of dominance. I had a taste of it our first night together, but I sensed he held back. He bought the image—pearl earrings, sweater sets, and slacks. He thought I was delicate, that he had to go easy on me, treat me as if I’m breakable.
No one in my life has ever gone easy on me, and he can’t break what’s already broken.
Chapter Eight
Spider
I wasn’t sober the first time I hooked up with Emery. If I had been, I would’ve paid closer attention to the way my touch affected her. Learned all the ways to make her moan, catch her breath, bite her lip and squirm restlessly under my mouth.
Like now, as I run my teeth along her inner thigh to the warm and welcoming apex of her thighs, she sucks in a stuttered breath.
Even wasted, I remember loving her taste and sober she tastes even better.
Savory, rich, and so fucking pure—she’s out of my league and yet here I am, eager to contaminate her with sin and debauchery.
I lick into her body, poisoning her with ugly thoughts of ruining her for every man who comes after me. With a bruising grip on her thighs, I pin her knees to the bed and drown myself in her taste and her needy sounds. She buries her hands in my hair, gripping the strands and pulling until it hurts.