First Down: A Fake Dating College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play)
First Down: Chapter 22

AFTER TEXTING Seb to tell him to go home, I let Bex walk me to her building. She’s up on the third floor, and every time we reach a new landing, she pulls me into a kiss. I’m still pumped up from the game, and my blood is flowing hotly. By the time we reach her door, I’m halfway to hard. If she told me to get on my knees and eat her out right here, I’d do it without hesitation.

I want her in that jersey and nothing else, stat.

She stops with the key in the doorknob. “This is still just sex.”

“Definitely.”

“We’re just exploring our attraction.”

I nod against her neck as I kiss it. “Show me inside.”

She has a shy look on her face as she opens the door, revealing a little living area-slash-kitchenette. The couch has a pink throw over one of the arms, and it’s covered in pillows. I’m not sure how anyone manages to sit on it, but replaceing out isn’t the goal. I want to know which of the doors leads to Bex’s bedroom.

She stands on her tiptoes to kiss me. I wind my arms around her, urging her up; she jumps into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist. Holding her in my arms like this, smelling her vanilla perfume, has me so desperate to be skin-to-skin with her again that I shudder. “Which bedroom is yours?”

“Right.” She kisses me deeply, nipping at my bottom lip.

I open the door, fumbling for the light switch. The overhead light comes on, revealing a neat little bedroom. There’s a bed in the corner, made perfectly with a floral-patterned quilt, Albert the stuffed bear plopped down against the pillows. In the opposite corner, there’s a desk covered in books and papers, plus lots of photography on the walls. I want to look at them more closely, because I’m sure it’s her own art and she hasn’t let me see any of it yet, but right now, I’m too turned on to stop and ask.

A thick area rug on the floor softens my footsteps as I walk us over to the bed. I set her down, but instead of settling back against the bed, she kneels, hanging onto my belt loops.

She licks her lips.

Her eyes are bright as she undoes my pants.

“Bex,” I say hoarsely.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since you got to taste me,” she says as she pulls out my cock. Her hand strokes my length, and I gasp. “This is okay, right?”

“Fuck yeah it’s okay.”

She runs her nail down my shaft delicately. “Good.”

When she puts her mouth on me, she does so experimentally. I push my fingers into her hair, tugging her closer. It takes all my self-control not to pull her onto my dick. I don’t want to choke her, but fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sexier sight than her on her knees, mouthing at me.

She swirls her tongue over the head, then takes me into her mouth properly, massaging my balls with her hand. They’re tight, aching; already I’m on the edge of blowing my load. When I tighten my grip on her hair, she moans around my cock, and I squeeze my eyes shut, seeing stars.

She takes me in deeper. When she hollows out her cheeks, I stroke her cheek with a trembling finger. Feeling the outline of my cock in her mouth nearly makes me come, but I manage to control myself. I want to ride this out for as long as she’s willing to give me.

“Fuck, princess. You look so gorgeous on your knees for me,” I tell her. She looks up, and I see tears in her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away. I wipe my thumb at the corner of her eye, then lick away the saltiness. Her eyes widen, and she hums around my cock. When I tighten my grip in her hair, she just responds by firming her grasp on my balls. I moan, clenching my ass to keep from coming.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Her hair wrapped around my hand, her fluttering eyelashes, spit running down her chin. She continues like this, moving on my cock with agonizing slowness, until she has every inch in her gorgeous mouth. Her throat is so tight, wet and warm and welcoming, but what makes me lose my mind is when I notice she has a hand down her leggings. She’s fucking touching herself as she sucks me, too turned on to wait.

“I’m coming,” I grunt a second before it happens. She pulls off, but not all the way; I come in her mouth and all over her lips rather than down her throat.

And this little minx just smiles, licking at her lips. The hand between her legs is still moving. I practically growl as I haul her up onto the bed, sweeping the poor stuffed animal onto the floor. I kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue, as I rip down her leggings and panties in one go. I lick into her mouth, relishing in her breathy moan, and sink two fingers into her. My thumb replaces her clit, rubbing in tight, rapid circles.

She comes on my fingers before long, soaking them in her slick. When I pull them out of her warm cunt, I tap my fingers against her lips; she opens her mouth, licking her own wetness. I replace my fingers with my lips, kissing her until we’re both breathless, and finally we curl up on the bed together.

I kick off my jeans and pull my t-shirt over my head, and she does the same with her leggings. She’s about to take off the jersey, but I stop her. “I love seeing you in this.”

She presses her face against my bare chest, kissing my tattoo. “Oh yeah?”

“Sexy as hell, babe.”

“You’re the sexy one. I was thinking about sucking you off the whole game.”

I play with the hem of the jersey. “Seriously?”

“You’re in command on the field. It’s hot, trust me.”

After a few minutes, our breathing evens out. I like having my legs tangled with hers. Her bed is a twin, so my feet are nearly hanging over the edge, but I’m making it work. The exertion from the game, not to mention the orgasm, is catching up to me. I stifle a yawn with my hand as I pat the floor, looking for Albert.

She sits up a bit, looking down at me. “James?”

I set Albert on the bed next to us. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry if I messed up anything with your dad.”

I’m shaking my head before she can say anything else. “Don’t. I handled it.”

“I don’t think he liked me being there.”

“He was just surprised.”

Her brow knits together. “Does he know we’re not really dating?”

“Now he does,” I say, even though that makes my chest hurt. “He was just concerned about it, but I explained.”

“But why would he be concerned if you’re with someone? I mean, if it was real, wouldn’t he be happy for you?”

“You know I don’t date.”

“Because of football.”

I nod. “He helped me make that decision.”

Part of me wants to explain further, but I’m coming off a high, and the thought of getting that real, even if it’s with Bex, makes me nervous.

She continues to trace the lines of my tattoo. “Your brother has the same one.”

“Yeah. Seb too. We got them together a couple summers ago.”

“It looks familiar,” she says. “What is it?”

“It’s the Celtic knot. You know, Callahan. Irish roots.”

“It looks good on you.” She kisses it softly. “I know I didn’t want to stay over last time. But you will, right?”

I kiss her cheek before saying, “Show me your photography.”

She blinks, eyes widening. “If you really want?”

I hold her gaze. “I do. I was going to ask before, but full disclosure, I was too fucking hard.”

She bursts out laughing, slipping out of bed, and grabs a folder from the desk. She settles back against me, and I wrap my arm around her middle. I’m grinning; I love making her laugh.

“I’ve been taking some portraits of the diner patrons, that’s always good practice. And I’ve been looking at angles in architecture,” she says.

I stroke her arm. “Let me see them.”

She opens the folder, which I see now is filled with proofs. “I have more on my computer, obviously,” she says. “Printing is expensive. But it’s helpful to see what the vibe of the physical photo is like, you know?”

“No,” I admit, which makes her laugh. “But I love hearing you talk about it.”

We flip through the stack slowly. She explains how she took each one, and I think I ask semi-intelligent questions, because I get her rambling about stuff like aperture and white balance and bokeh. It’s adorable, even when she gets overly excited and accidentally elbows me in the face.

“Crap,” she says, turning my face from side to side. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine,” I lie, kissing her. In truth, she’s stronger than she looks, because my cheek is stinging. “Tell me about this one.”

I point to a photograph of somewhere I recognize; it’s the great hall in McKee’s library. The table looks familiar, because it’s the one we sit at when we go there to study. My laptop is open on the table next to hers; our jackets hang on the backs of two chairs.

She blushes, tracing over the photograph. “I took it when you went to go call your sister.”

I snort as the memory comes back to me. “She was afraid she accidentally ate a pot brownie.”

“Did she?”

“Honestly, I’m still not sure. Coop thinks she did.” I hold up the photograph. Seeing evidence of our time together makes me feel warm inside, like I just drank a huge gulp of hot cider. “You’re seriously talented.”

“Do you want it?” She ducks her gaze down. “I mean, if you want it, you can have it.”

“Not like this.”

She looks up, hurt flashing on her face momentarily.

I kiss it away quickly. “Princess, you need to sign it for me first.”

She practically throws the photography on her nightstand, climbing into my lap. My hands grip the backs of her thighs automatically, groaning when she presses open-mouthed kisses to my throat.

“Can you go again?” she says breathlessly, rubbing her cheek against mine as she grinds down in my lap. “Want to ride your cock.”

And again, I can’t say no. Not to her. There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than in her bed, watching her bounce on my dick in my jersey. I bring my hands up, massaging her firm ass. “As long as you let me eat your pretty pussy after.”