CALLING THE PLAY
Gillian
TAKING NAPS HAD never been my thing, but right now I didn’t mind them one bit.
A hard male body was wrapped solidly around me as I came awake, and it belonged to the man who’d said he didn’t do cuddling. Perhaps he and I had a different definition of the word, or perhaps he did do cuddling, he just hadn’t realized it.
Between staying up late last night and being out in the sun most of the afternoon, I had felt worn out. So when Lucas asked me if I wanted to go for a run, I had declined and while he was gone I decided to lie down. I meant to just close my eyes for a few minutes, but I guess I had fallen asleep.
When I fluttered my eyelids open, I saw that at least it was still light outside. I twisted around to see him.
His eyes were on me.
He was watching me.
I smiled at him.
Having changed out of my bathing suit, I’d slipped into his T-shirt after I’d come inside. I smelled like suntan oil and the sun. He, on the other hand, smelled of soap from a fresh shower, and was completely naked.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you,” I said, stretching and pushing my body back against his.
He pushed aside the length of my hair so he could press his mouth to the back of my neck. “I know how you can make it up to me,” he whispered as his hand curled over my hip.
I didn’t say anything right away. I didn’t have to. I wiggled against him in a way that was definitely going to cause a reaction, and then I finally spoke. “What did you have in mind?”
He slipped his hand lower, over the softness of my belly.
“Mmmm.”
His hand moved lower still to the heat between my legs. It only took one small, inquiring stroke of his finger to see just how ready for him I was.
“You didn’t answer me.” My voice was husky and low.
When he didn’t answer, I twisted around. With a gleam in his eye, he crooked a finger at me and then scooted down the bed a bit. “Crawl up and put your knees on either side of my head,” he instructed.
“Are you sure?”
He pressed his thumb to my clit in a way that sent a tendril of desire curling through me.
“Sure. If you insist.”
Not only could I lose myself in the sound of his throaty chuckle, but the feel of his skin against mine drove me wild. Bold and ready, I climbed up his hard body and rocked up on my knees.
Just as I was about to lower myself to his mouth, he put a hand on my waist to stop me. “Use your hand and spread your pussy for me,” he said huskily. “I want my tongue over every inch of you.”
When I spoke, my voice was ragged. “Lucas, I can’t do that.”
“Gillian.”
That one word sounded more like an order and it cut right to my core. I lifted the shirt over my head and then slid my hand slowly down my belly.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, his eyes glued on me.
Sexy.
No one had ever called me that, either. Athletic, fit, tone, cute even, but never sexy. He had a way about him that made me feel special, and I didn’t even think he knew what he was doing.
Wanting to give him whatever I could of myself, I parted myself for him. As soon as I did, he grabbed my hips with both his hands. His grip was hard and he slammed me down onto his mouth with a force I would never have done on my own.
He ate me like he was a starving man. Licking, feasting, sucking, sliding his tongue inside me and all over me.
Devouring me like this, he very quickly worked me into a mindless frenzy. Before I knew what I was doing, I was riding his face like it was his cock. When he pressed a finger to my clit, I bucked and writhed as waves of pleasure rushed through me.
Exploding into his mouth, I came all over his face.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do with him. I trusted him. I loved him. As I thought it, I knew I shouldn’t, but it was hard not to. I sagged downward trying to expel that feeling and then rolled to the side so I didn’t smother him.
His lips glistened with the evidence of my arousal and he ran his tongue over them, tasting me once more. “Get back up on your knees,” he murmured, pulling me on top of him. “I want you to do that again, but this time on my cock.”
I smiled down at him. “I’m not sure I can move right now.”
He gave me that easy smile that first caught my eye and slid one finger inside and then pulled it back out. “I think you can manage, but I’ll help you if I need to.”
A thrill began low in my belly and fanned throughout my chest. I already knew how easy it was to lose myself in him, what I didn’t know was how easy it was to imagine I belonged to him.
His cock surged upward and he reached down to grasp it with one hand and took hold of my waist with the other. He was ready. I lowered myself down, giving him the very heart of my being.
I leaned forward to kiss him and my tongue darted into his mouth, stroking tentatively and then harder when he did the same.
The help he provided was in the way of positioning both of his hands at my waist and thrusting upward. Like that he held me in place as he arched and withdrew. Faster. Harder. Rougher.
Back in sitting position, I arched back, changing the angle.
His hips lifted, thrusting into me harder, as sweet pleasure caused my thighs to squeeze around him.
I couldn’t believe it when pleasure started to sweep through me. I was coming again, and this time in a hurried, frenzied rush. Everything became Lucas. Every breath, every pulse, every second. Images of him flashed through my mind as I shook with my orgasm. “Oh, God,” I cried.
He groaned. “Gillian.”
At the sound of my name I sat straight up and stared down at him. With pleasure still sweeping though me, I ran my nails up his chest to hold onto his shoulders. He groaned again, calling out my name over and over as he erupted inside me. Hot, spurting deep into my body, he pulled me even closer onto his cock until there was no space between us.
Lucas laid there a long moment, his cock still pulsing and twitching inside me. I loved how it felt. A moment later he cupped my face and then kissed me softly, a direct contradiction to the way he’d just fucked me. “I should probably feed you,” he panted.
That was the first time since waking up I glanced at the clock. It was almost seven. I rolled off him and sat on the mattress, my toes sneaking under the covers. I hated that I’d slept some of our few precious hours away. “You mean I should probably feed you,” I smirked. “With all this sex, you have to keep your strength for tomorrow or you won’t make it through the day.”
He pushed himself onto one elbow and stifled a yawn. “You don’t see me complaining.”
I untangled myself and slipped on his shirt, then padded over to the kitchen where I opened the refrigerator. “Do you want to go out or stay in? But if we stay in, it has to be breakfast for dinner.”
The sound of bare feet on wood alerted me that he’d gotten out of bed. “Let’s go outside before it gets dark and throw the ball around. And then I’m happy to stay in or go out. Your choice.”
By the time I turned around, he’d pulled on his jeans and thrown a baseball cap on his head. “You want to play football with me?”
Taking a football out of his bag, he started for the door. “Sure, unless everything you told me about how good you are was just hot air.”
“It was not hot air!” I said, scurrying to pull a pair of shorts out of my bag.
He was already out the door before I’d gotten myself decent.
Hurrying outside, I found him sitting on the lawn, staring down at the ball gripped tightly in his hand. I flopped beside him. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Those blue eyes darted in my direction. “Do you think it will be easier for us if we start the process of letting this thing go between us when we get back to camp tomorrow morning?”
The words were unexpected and I sucked in a breath, unable to answer him. I’d never been blindsided, but I felt like I had just then.
His eyes were still on the ball. “I mean I feel like the more time we spend together, the harder it’s going to be.”
Exhaling, I fought to stop from screaming at him. Did he really think we were something he could just turn on and off?
“Don’t you think?” he asked flipping the ball around in his palms.
Silence.
He glanced over at me.
More silence.
“Gillian.”
I was at a disadvantage because I hadn’t been thinking like that at all. In fact, I was thinking the very polar opposite. I swallowed, and then swallowed one more time before I spoke. “I think it’s going to be hard either way.”
This time he was silent.
“What if things don’t end?”
His head snapped in my direction and for the first time since I sat beside him he made full eye contact. “You know they have to.”
“Why do they have to?” I bit out my words.
His features drew together in a hard, chiseled way. “Because your father will more than likely freak the fuck out, and I’ll be left in a situation I don’t want to be in come this fall. Because you have school to get back to and a job to start after, and neither includes the Bears. And because, Gillian, that isn’t the plan.”
I wanted to be dignified about this, but I also wanted to scream, “Fuck the plan.”
His expression softened, but he was still guarded. “And a thousand other reasons why,” he tacked on.
I nodded stiffly, wondering what those thousand reasons were, but not wanting to ask. “Well,” I said, my voice a little weak, “if I have a say in the way things are going to end, I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before they do.”
He nodded. “Okay, but I think we need to start the process of letting go.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not see each other for a while.”
“A while?”
“Yeah, a while.”
What did that mean? We only had two weeks left. My throat burned with unshed tears. “If that’s what you want.”
Standing up, he offered his hand. “It’s not what I want, but I think it’s for the best.”
Up on my own two feet, the ground felt shaky beneath me. “I understand.”
The conversation was left open-ended, and it was probably for the best. There was a forced smile on his face when he raised the ball. “Now show me your stuff.”
I forced a smile too and backed up so he could throw me the ball. We played a mock game for almost thirty minutes, and the whole time Lucas pretended to be the announcer. I think he was trying to lighten up the mood, but there was no way to do that.
We had less than twelve hours left together, and then we’d be back at training camp and starting the process of letting go.
Was that even possible?
“Whitney thinks she can make this touchdown. Let’s see if she can,” his voice boomed as I ran with the ball.
Sucking up my despair, I pretended too. When he had the ball, I yelled, “That’s Hot Stuff over there, he thinks he can recover his fumble and score, let’s see if he can.”
Pretending.
I’d be doing a lot of that.
Holding it together, I played along, but the more I thought about the ticking of the clock, the more my mind started to shatter.
The next time he threw me the ball, I missed it and it went rolling down the hill. While I ran what seemed like miles to retrieve it, Lucas started to practice his throw.
I stopped and watched him. The way he moved. The way he carried himself. The way he was.
His shoulder arced with a precision that screamed of years of hard work. This man was born to be a quarterback.
And it was in this moment I realized that no matter how much I’d hoped we’d dissolve our pact to end things when training camp was over, it could never be that way.
This game was his life, and he was right, my father was a wild card. Like him, I honestly had no idea what he’d do if he found out.
Although, I’d like to think he’d be happy for me, he had this whole thing about my life being normal, and being with Lucas would not be normal, or at least not his normal. There was also the fact that Lucas was his player. His quarterback. His Hail Mary.
And I couldn’t compromise that.
Despite the feelings I had for Lucas, I would never do anything to put my father or him in jeopardy because football was their life.
And it was mine too . . . or at least it had been.