Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“I can’t believe that’s still on your skin.”
I glance down, fingers tracing the KISS ME printed on my flesh that I drew there over two weeks ago with permanent marker. It’s fading for sure but still legible.
“Just glad it’s not bikini season.”
“The fact that you’d write that on your pussy is sexy as hell.”
Er.
Okay.
If that’s what he considers sexy, who am I to judge? And technically it’s above my pussy—or near it—not on it.
“It was either this or boner garage, and since I hadn’t had sex in a while, it couldn’t be classified as such.”
Dallas stares. “Would you get over here already? Before I lose my boner?”
He’s not going to lose his boner, but I climb onto the bed anyway, on all fours, toward him as if he were my prey. In reality, Dallas Colter is a big, cuddly teddy bear who’s not the least bit aggressive in the bedroom, happy to let me have my way.
He kisses me as soon as I’m lying next to him, my braid falling over my shoulder. When I go to undo the elastic band, his palm skims over my stomach.
Upward.
Drags down my sternum, collarbone to belly button.
“Can I ask a rude question?”
I narrow my eyes. “How rude is it?”
“Are your tits real?”
Are my tits re…
What kind of question is that?
“Um, what would make you think they’re fake?” I cup them in my hands and look down at them as most people do when they’re cupping their own boobs.
“Because they’re so perfect.”
“Now, now—no one is perfect.” My hands fall back to my sides.
The fact is, I’m not so modest I can’t admit that I indeed do have a pretty fantastic rack. If I were boasting, I’d say it’s one of my best assets.
It’s Dallas’s turn to cup one of them. “Sorry, that was rude.”
“I mean, yeah, it was rude, but I’m not offended.”
“I think I’m gonna love being able to play with them whenever I want.” The tip of his finger goes round and round my areola.
“Not whenever you want. Whenever I want.” My body, my choice.
Ha!
My chin tips up. I have something he wants, and I’m going to make him work for it.
“Say please when you ask to fondle my boobs. Use your manners, sir.”
He laughs, nonplussed. “Ryann, may I please play with your tits?”
I nod my consent. “You may touch my tits.”
You may go down on me.
You may put your penis in my vagina.
You may, you may, you may.
Green light.
Pass go.
Make me come…
thirty-eight
dallas
“I’m not gay, but my boyfriend is.”
– Kyle
One thing I wasn’t counting on when we finished practice tonight was Diego ambushing me in the locker room, but it’s clearly his favorite place to back me into a corner for confrontation.
This is where our fucked-up relationship started, and this is where it will end.
“Are you still hanging out with Ryann?”
Hanging out with her? “Is that your polite way of asking why I was photographed kissing her in the parking lot of the stadium?”
He hangs back, half dressed in his practice pads, shoes dangling from his hand.
“Yes, I guess it is my polite way of asking why you were photographed kissing my ex-girlfriend in the parking lot after our game.”
I shrug, unlacing my shoulder pads. “The camera doesn’t lie.”
He shifts on his feet, standing there in his socks. “Stop acting like you don’t know what my point is. Haven’t you heard of bro code?”
That gives me pause.
I pull the pads off my shoulders and set them on the bench in front of my cubby.
“Dude, stop acting as if you cared about her. If she were dating someone else, would it matter?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is your point?” I stand with my legs parted, arms folded across my chest. My hair is drenched with sweat and my face is bright red from the post-practice adrenaline rush.
“Bro code—that’s my point.”
“Your point sucks, and I’ll tell you all the reasons why.” I don’t budge from my position. “Ready? One, you’re the one who broke up with her.” I hold up two fingers. “Two, you didn’t have the guts to do it yourself. Three, the two of you were barely physical. Should I go on? ’Cause I can think of a fourth.”
“Say it.”
“Four, your relationship was an entire two months—your dates were never anything to write home about. Did you jerk off while picturing her naked even once?”
Cause I have.
Diego watches as the lightbulb goes on above my head, me making a mental note to text her after he’s done climbing up my asshole and ask her on a proper date.
It’s time.
My teammate looks resigned, shoulders sagging as I rattle off arguments.
“I feel like you went behind my back.”
“Man, I can’t help it if we became friends. We were thrown together because I helped you out, and she’s super cool. Of course I wanted to spend more time with her.”