Tackled: A Sports Romance Read online

  She moans, her hand stroking my balls, and I'm pushed to the limit. I warn her before I come, asking her if she's sure, and she groans her approval. When I come, it's torrential. I let go, groaning loudly as I fill her mouth.

  I stoke myself more quickly, picturing Cassie between my legs as she swallows every drop. The image pushes me over the edge, and I come so hard that I cry out, one hand on the shower wall as I come onto the tile.

  Fuck. That's been building up. Two weeks of not getting laid and I'm going out of my mind. That has to be what it is. It's not Cassie in particular — it's that I'm fucking horny as hell.

  And jerking off just now did absolutely nothing to relieve that. The second my mind goes back to the image of Cassie between my legs, of the way she looked with her mouth full of my cock, I feel my dick stir again.

  Hell, this is going to be the longest summer ever.

  11

  Cassie

  "What is that?"

  Sable's voice comes out of nowhere from behind me and I jump, shutting the laptop closed so quickly that I wonder if I broke it.

  "What is what?" I ask, my voice innocent. My heart is racing and I feel guiltier than sin, even though I wasn't doing anything wrong. It's like having your parent walk in on you and catch you watching porn or something. "God you're stealthy."

  Sable laughs and flops down on the loveseat across from me, lying on her back with her legs dangling over the end of the piece of furniture. "I'm not exactly sneaking around here like a ninja. You were really engrossed in what you were doing."

  "I was doing work," I say.

  Sable laughs. "I saw." Then, she adds, "Since when did your work involve looking at a website with an article called 'Football for Total Morons'?"

  I groan. So she did see the website I was totally trying to hide. "It's for work."

  Sable raises an eyebrow. "So they make the tutors learn about the sports the guys they're tutoring play?"

  I shrug. "Maybe."

  "Maybe? You're such a liar. You're learning about football because of Colton King."

  "I am most certainly not," I protest, but my words are flimsy. "I’m doing thesis research.”

  "Sure you are. You’re suddenly super into masculine identity in sports.”

  “Shut up. I was studying masculine identity already. The football part just…fell into my lap.”

  “Bullshit. You're learning about football because you have the hots for Colton King and you want to impress him."

  I pick up a throw pillow and toss it across the room at her. It bounces off her head, and she laughs as she throws it onto the floor.

  "You totally want Colton King," she teases relentlessly. "You want his peeeee-nis."

  "I do not want Colton King's penis," I say loudly, my voice bouncing off the walls in the apartment. "I was looking at the football stuff out of curiosity."

  The doorbell rings, and I jump up, glad to get out of the hot seat. Sable is easily distracted and she'll forget about football and Colton King's penis. I hope.

  "Is that pizza?" she asks.

  "Did you order online?"

  "Yeah, I already added the tip," she says. "Bring me my food, servant."

  I pretend to squint at her face as I head for the door. "Is that a wrinkle in your forehead?" I ask.

  Her hand goes to her head. "You play dirty. Is there really a wrinkle there?"

  I shrug. "Better go check in the mirror."

  "You're a bitch," she says, standing up. "And I know that this is just a ploy to distract me. You think you're that subtle? Well, you're not. Bring me my pizza, and you're not off the hook. You're going to tell me what you're learning about football, and we're going to discuss how much you want Colton’s penis."

  I exhale loudly, my hand on the doorknob, calling out to Sable's retreating figure. "How many times do I have to tell you that I do not want Colton King's penis?"

  I pull the door open.

  Only to find Colton King standing in the doorway holding a bouquet and looking bemused.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  I stand there silently, torn between being utterly embarrassed and humiliated and being totally pissed off. This is the second time that Colton has walked in on me confessing something sexual to Sable.

  What are the damn odds of that happening twice?

  Colton clears his throat, breaking the silence. "You don't want my penis?" he asks.

  I narrow my eyes. "Oh, shut up." I huff as I turn away from him. I pick up my laptop from the sofa. I'm going to just retreat into my room now and away from the humiliation of talking about Colton's penis in front of Colton. Sable can come out here and talk to him.

  "Well, this is awkward," he says.

  "This is not awkward at all," I lie, my voice tight. "In fact, it's totally fine. You overheard a conversation you shouldn't have heard, but that's right. I don't want your penis. Not a single —"

  Colton interrupts. "Inch?" he asks.

  "Exactly," I say. "Not a single inch."

  "I hope you don't want just a single inch of it," he says. "I'd much rather give you all nine."

  "All nine penises?" I blurt out.

  "All nine inches," he says. He looks so fucking ... cocky standing there holding a bouquet and smiling at me crookedly, all smug and satisfied with himself.

  I arch my eyebrow as if I'm unimpressed, when really I'm warm between the legs at the thought of Colton and his nine-inch cock. "All guys brag about how big they are," I say. "They're never as big as they think they are."

  I act like I'm some kind of expert in penises, except I'm not. I'm really not. I've seen a grand total of one penis in my entire life, and that was freshman year as an undergrad.

  The one and only penis I've seen was my freshman year college boyfriend.

  That is super depressing when I think about it, actually.

  "You've seen it, Cassie. I'd love to remind you that I'm definitely as big as I say I am," Colton says, one hand moving to the button on his jeans. "In fact, I can drop these right here and let you conduct a thorough inspection ... until you're satisfied."

  When he speaks the words, my mind goes straight to what he said before: I'll give you the best orgasm of your life. And arousal courses through me, settling between my legs. He's giving me more than just a green light. He's practically begging me to touch it.

  He could be a one-night stand, the perfect way to finally lose my virginity. I could have sex with no messy emotions involved, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am sex, with a guy who's gorgeous and obviously has plenty of experience.

  He clearly knows his way around women. I bet he could give me the best orgasm of my life.

  I mentally chastise myself for the series of thoughts that blow through my head, one right after the other, my libido's attempts at rationalizing something that would surely be a complete disaster. I would be throwing away my stipend and risking censure from my department for an inappropriate student-teacher relationship.

  That is a no-win.

  Get your libido under control, Cassie.

  "I can see that you're considering my offer," Colton says.

  His voice jerks me out of my thoughts. "I'm not considering it in any way, shape, or form," I lie. "In fact, it's the last thing in the world I ever want to think about again."

  Colton steps close to me, and I jump back instinctively until my lower back presses against the sofa and there's nowhere left to move. "So you admit you've thought about it?"

  "You're so full of yourself to think I've been sitting around fantasizing about your dick, Colton King," I say, remembering how I was bent over my bed, my vibrator lodged deeply in my pussy, imagining that it was Colton fucking me from behind. I hope he can't tell that I'm lying through my fucking teeth.

  Apparently he can.

  "I think you're lying, Cassie Rae," he says, his voice so low that I can barely hear him.

  "I'm not ly—" I start, then I stop.

  I stop because he tilts the bouquet and I finally see w