Page 1 of Punt My Life
Chapter 1
Maddox
Igrabontothebony hips of the sorority girl riding me as I thrust up from the bottom, hitting her g-spot to get her off just as I spill into the condom. She doesn’t have enough meat on her bones for my taste—none of the girls I fuck ever do—but she rides my cock like a pro.
You would think knocking up my best friend, Ian’s stepsister in high school would have curbed my playboy ways. It didn’t. If anything, it only made them worse. Jenny was looking for a way to rebel, and we were both ready to cash in our v-cards. Since I had blown up my friendship because we were young and stupid—and I was a teen parent with a girl who didn’t want anything else to do with me—I may as well enjoy all the other girls that flocked to me.
Like the one on top of me now. She flops onto the bed next to me as we both catch our breath before I get up and head into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and take a shower.
I’m not surprised to find her gone when I come back into my bedroom. They all know the drill by now. They get to be seen with a football player and we both get off at the end of the night. That’s it. No dating. No cuddling. No kissing.
I’m saving all of that for the girl that will steal my heart…whenever I find her.
Alexis
SittingintheDean’soffice Monday morning, I resist the urge to roll my eyes when he practically begs me to take on the role of “Tutor of the Bears” to help the University’s athletes improve their grades. Most urgently, the football team since they are signing up for the NFL draft in a few months. Not that they need good grades to be drafted, but it looks better if they have well rounded responsibility.
“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Walsh. But that’s a lot to take on when I have my own classes to study for and my job in the student library,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
I work as many hours as they will let me in the library. Most of my time is spent shelving books and helping students find whatever they are looking for to complete their assignments. It’s far from my dream job, but I’m surrounded by books and the pay is decent. That’s more than I could have hoped for when I applied to the work-study program my freshman year.
“It is a big responsibility. That’s why I’ve arranged to incorporate it as part of your job duties. You’ll get paid overtime for any hours spent tutoring. You would be locked into the position for the remainder of this year and your entire senior year if you commit to it today.” He grins.
The extra money would definitely be nice, and I could get more experience helping students. Which would be great since I’m planning to be an English teacher after I graduate next year. But why does it have to be athletes?
Don’t get me wrong, I love sports. I just don’t care for the playboy jocks that play them. They don’t take anything seriously, least of all the classes they would rather skip for extra gym time or a party. I can’t imagine them taking tutoring seriously either.
I sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it.” I hold my hand up when he jumps up with relief. “But I’ll only take on students that take it seriously. I’m not wasting my time for them to sleep or goof off.”
“Understood. Just contact me or the athletic director if you have any issues and we’ll either get them on board or removed from the program.” He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Thank you, Alexis. This program is important for our athletes to make sure they get the offers and the future they deserve. We just needed a dependable andsmarttutor to get it implemented. Someone that won’t let them get by without putting in the work…or distract them with their charm.”
I don’t miss his unspoken words. He doesn't want a thin, blond, Barbie type that the guys would likely be attracted to. I’m the opposite with my black hair, gothic-nerd style, and plus sized figure. But that’s okay. I’m happy being me and couldn’t care less what anyone else thinks.
Maddox
Mondayafternoon,Idragmy ass into the student library and head toward the reserved room for the “Tutor of the Bears” in the back. This is such a waste of time. I don’t take many things seriously, and my grades are definitely not on the list. I’d rather focus my few serious efforts on what really matters. Like football and my son. But my coach is insisting that I improve my GPA before signing up for the NFL draft again.
I signed up as a junior last year, but kickers are rarely drafted and especially not as underclassmen. So, it wasn’t too much of a letdown when I didn’t get picked.
I’ve strived this past year to be able to kick a football with precision no matter which position I’m playing. It doesn’t matter if I’m kicking a field goal or punting to the opposing team; if my foot connects with the ball, it’s going wherever I aim.Now, if I could just punt my love life with the same precision.
None of the girls I’ve been with are really my type. They are superficial and just looking for a good time—or the bragging rights of sleeping with a football player—and that’s always been fine by me since I was just looking for a good time, too. But it’s getting old. I’m ready for more.
I just don’t think I even know what my type would be…until I step through the door in the back of the library and see the sexy tutor tapping her pen on the table in front of her impatiently. Her black hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she’s wearing a drop shoulder t-shirt, showing her red bra strap and soft cream-colored skin that I’d love to sink my teeth into. When her gray eyes flash to mine with annoyance at my tardiness, I have to fight the urge to adjust the growing erection in my jeans.
Chapter 2
Alexis
Fifteenminutesafterthescheduled session, I’m about to give up on my first tutoring student when I hear the door open. I stop tapping my pen on the table to glare up at…him.Maddox Campbell is the best kicker I’ve ever seen on a football field, and he definitely doesn’t disappoint in the eye candy department. Too bad that’s not why I’m here today.
“You’re late,” I say with a glare as I notice him clenching his fist at his side.
He chuckles as he struts into the room nonchalantly like he hasn’t been wasting my time. “Sorry,” he says with a shrug as he sits in the seat across from me. “I’m here now.”
I scoff as I pull my backpack from under the table. “If you don’t want or need my assistance, I’d appreciate a heads up so I can be available for those that do.”
It’s exactly what I expected when I was offered the position to tutor the athletes. They don't care about their grades. All they care about is their nextscore—on the field or in the bedroom. Since I’m not their coach, teammate, or type, they won’t care about these sessions.
