Page 50 of Trick Play
His hand smacks on my bare ass with just enough force to sting before it turns into a caress. “Are you complaining?” he asks, amusement still bubbling in his voice as he carries me down the hall and through a door.
Then the world tilts again as he dumps me onto the bed. I brush my hair out of my face, fully aware that my death glare is somewhat ruined by the fact that I have no pants on. “About you going all caveman to cart me off to your room?”
And then he yanks his shirt off, distracting me with all his golden skin stretched over the bumps and grooves of finely honed muscles. I get up on my knees, unable to stop myself from reaching out and touching him, sliding my hand up his abs and over his pec.
Another laugh rumbles out of him, his hands at his waist. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Narrowing my eyes, I give him a hard pinch on the nipple. “I do, actually. Carrying me over your shoulder isn’t sexy. I don’t appreciate it.”
He shoves his pants down, his cock bumping into my belly, hot and hard. His arm goes around me, yanking me against him, his hand traveling to my ass. He slaps it, making me jerk my hips forward, and my eyes fly up to his.
His lips brush mine in a quick kiss. “Really? You’re mad about me carrying you over my shoulder?”
I shrug, fighting down my smile. “Not mad, exactly, but I mean, it’s not my favorite thing ever.”
“Alright. Noted. I’ll only do it if I want you feisty and riled up.”
I let out a shocked laugh. “Should I call you Gronk, then?”
“Baby, you can call me whatever you want, as long as you let me inside that sweet little pussy,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on mine again, his tongue in my mouth, and any response I might’ve given is swept away.
It’s good, though, actually, him ruining the romantic atmosphere of cooking me dinner by carrying me off like a caveman. Because otherwise I might think there’s more to this than there is. He’s been clear. I’ve been clear. We’re both on the same page that this should stay casual. No complications. No need for romance. Just this—hot, sexy, and fun. And Cal’s nothing if not fun. And sexy. And ohhh …
He pulls my top off before laying me back, then he rolls on a condom and climbs over me, that beautiful dick of his stretching me open in one smooth slide. His hand grips behind my knee, pulling my leg up to his side so he can get deeper. We let out matching groans of pleasure.
“Yeah, baby, that’s what I’ve been needing,” he whispers before kissing me again.
And I have to remind myself that he just means my pussy. Not me. This is just sex.
That’s it. And that’s fine. And that’s all I have time for.
And maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I’ll manage to believe it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cal
There are a handful of cars already parked outside of Trey and Brandy’s house when Simon, Ellie, and I park and get out. We all came together, since we’re all staying at the same house this week and going to the same place. It just made sense.
Or at least that was Ellie’s argument when I blinked in surprise that she assumed we’d be going together. I’d assumed we’d be coming separately. Simon and I were each assigned a different dish, after all.
Brandy doesn’t take Friendsgiving lightly. Which is why she and Trey are the ones hosting it. That and they have a big enough rental that we can all squeeze in.
Almost the whole team is coming. A few guys who live semi-close went home for today, since it was our rest day for the week. Tomorrow is a regular practice and workout, Thursday we’re traveling to Colorado, and then it’s the game on Friday night. Simon, Ellie, and I are lucky enough to get a “real” Thanksgiving with Simon’s family tomorrow, but for most of the team, this is the only Thanksgiving they’ll get. So it’s a big deal every year.
Trey and Brandy hosted last year, too. Next year it’ll have to be someone else, though, because Trey, like Simon and me, is a senior. So’s Brandy, actually. As one of the cheerleaders, she’ll be going with us to our game. And Thanksgiving is important to her, which is why she’s been the one to handle everything since she and Trey started dating.
Rain falls on us in inconsistent, splattering gusts blown by the wind. Ellie ducks her head and hurries to the front door as fast as her little legs can manage, Simon and I bringing up the rear at a more sedate pace like we’re her bodyguards or something. Bodyguards carrying a grocery sack full of frozen dinner rolls, per Brandy’s request. Apparently that’s about all she expects me to be able to handle, not that I’m complaining.
Ellie rings the doorbell, but Simon nudges her aside so he can open the door. “It’s alright,” I hear him murmur to her. “They know we’re coming.”
The door opens into the already crowded living room, and a general cheer goes up when everyone sees we’re here. Trey comes from the kitchen at the back of the house, greeting Ellie first, rubbing his big brown hands together at the sight of the pie in her hands. “Apple, right? Homemade?”
She nods, grinning at his gleeful expression.
“Brandy’s in the kitchen. She’ll tell you where to put it.”
Ellie casts a glance at Simon and me, then makes her way to the back of the house while Trey greets us, nodding at the bag in my hands. “Rolls to the kitchen too. She’ll relax knowing those are here. She’s about to get the mac and cheese in the oven. That’s the last important side that’s missing. If you didn’t come through, I was going to have to go out and scour the open grocery stores for whatever they have left because it’s too late to make them ourselves.”
