A second later, he flips us over so I’m on top. He loves watching me ride him. I love making him come apart.
Olly’s so beautiful and sweet and almost too perfect to be true. And when I’m with him, I feel beautiful, as though he doesn’t see how I’m hauling around the extra baby weight.
“Enjoy this now, because when I’m eight months pregnant, you’re doing all the work. There’s no way I’m bouncing on your dick like a pogo stick then.”
He reaches between my legs and gently rubs my clit. “You don’t have to bounce now. Although your tits are mesmerizing when you do.” He punctuates that by thrusting up, and I gasp at the intensity.
I lean back with my hands on his thighs while he works his magic, each thrust sending me higher and higher. When I’m close, he sits up, slides his hands under my ass, and pulls me up and down on his thick cock.
“This angle. God.” I bite his shoulder when I come.
My peak sets him off, and his whole body tenses as he pulses deep in my body. Sex is definitely more intense and intimate without a condom.
For a few minutes, all we can do is pant and catch our breath. He holds me to his damp body and runs his rough palms up and down my back.
I don’t want to move. Just want to soak up how good it feels to be in his arms. Want to remember this on the mornings when he’s gone.
When I wake the next day, his side of the bed is empty and the sheets are cold.
I snuggle deeper into the blankets and hope, more than anything, that we can weather the fall in one piece.
Football won’t tear us apart, will it?
41
OLLY
I don’t know what I expected today, but standing single file to shake Coach Santos’s hand wasn’t it.
His handshake is firm, his eye contact direct. Everything about Richard Santos says he’s a straight shooter.
“How’s your knee feeling, Michael?” he asks, even though there are still fifty guys waiting behind me.
“Much better, thanks.” After Coach Krugman called me “hey, you” for half the season, I’m surprised Santos knows my name out of the gate.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He pats my back, and I let out a breath. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Krud terrorized us last year, so I’m hoping our streak of bad luck has run out.
As I look around, I see a lot of new faces. Aside from the team of people who got hired with Santos, there are incoming freshmen and a ton of transfers. It’s strange not to see any of my old roommates. I miss those idiots.
Billy and Cam sit next to me, and Billy leans over and says, “Your girlfriend baked us cookies. Left them for us on the kitchen counter.”
“She did?”
“Yup. But you obviously didn’t see the bag with your name on it.”
Cam shoves him back. “This asshole ate yours and his own. They were delicious, by the way. In case we haven’t told you lately, we love Maggie.”
I smile. Yeah, she’s pretty awesome. I didn’t wake her this morning. I tried to, but she was sleeping so soundly, I figured she needed her rest. It’s hard to breathe when I think about not seeing her the entire week.
She’s so fucking sweet to bake for me and my friends. I turn a menacing eye to Billy. “If you eat the food my woman made for me again, prepare for pain.”
He snickers, the little shit.
After a team meeting where Santos introduces himself, the other new assistant coaches, and their many accolades, he pauses to scan the conference room. “There’s a reason I’m called the Saint. It’s not because I’m perfect or don’t make mistakes.” He waves a thumb behind him. “My staff can attest to that.” His assistants chuckle.
Coach nods his head. “I went to college and did stupid things just like you. Only I was lucky enough to grow up during a time where there wasn’t social media that documented my stupidity for the world to see. This is where I want to caution you to watch who your friends are and who you hang out with outside of football. Because if you’re going to get in trouble, it’s generally not when you’re here, and as we all know, your mistakes are far more likely to get documented on a world stage than mine were at your age. One stupid mistake can cost you everything you’ve been striving for since you fell in love with the game.” He holds up a finger. “Trusting the wrong person can cost you everything.”
The Lone Star Stud Report instantly comes to mind, and my stomach churns. I hope Coach doesn’t see that anytime soon. I’ve been holed up with Maggie and training this summer, so there’s nothing new on my “stud profile,” but that dumb blog never removes anything, and I’d hate for Santos to see that Heavenly Hunks billboard. At least the advertisement has changed so my stupid, larger-than-life photo no longer welcomes you to town along the main drag of Charming.
