Beauty and the Running Back Page 7

  Dean’s reputation precedes him on campus. He, along with the rest of the football players, are infamous for going to bed with a ton of women. There’s barely a girl on campus who hasn’t been with a football player or two during her time at Rayburn. But Dean isn’t the type to brag about his conquests or air out his drama on campus. From what I can tell, he’s never had a proper girlfriend here at college. But that confuses me more than anything. If he doesn’t just want a one night stand, and his doesn’t want a girlfriend, then what are we doing here?

  I occurs to me, as we climb the stairs, that maybe spending time with me like this is all part of the “the chase” for him. Maybe all this attention and connection will only last until we sleep together. I shake my head, dislodging the thought. Nothing about Dean’s behavior leads me to believe that he’s just going to kick me to the curb. And besides, I’m not looking for something serious either, here. So if we do drift apart after we have sex—which I desperately want to do—I’ll just have to deal with it.

  Welcome to being a sexually active adult, Jessa, I think to myself wryly. First lesson: Sometimes sex is just sex.

  “Last but not least…” I say to Dean, pushing open my bedroom door.

  He steps slowly over the threshold, looking around my room with something approaching reverence. Seeing him here, just steps away from my bed, is almost too much for me to handle. The anticipation of these last few weeks is reaching a fever pitch. Dean turns to face me where he stands in the middle of the room. For a long moment, neither of us can think of anything to say. Finally, a slow smile appears on Dean’s perfect features.

  “Just for the record,” he starts, his voice riding low in his chest, “We’re not gonna bother pretending to study, are we?”

  “Christ, I hope not,” I breathe, taking a step toward him, “I’m not sure I’ll make it if I have to wait any longer to get my hands on you.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, holding out his arms to me.

  I rush into his embrace, raking my hands through this sandy blonde hair as he catches me against his sturdy body. The first taste of him sends a tremor of need through my body, pooling in my core. I’ve been waiting for this, dreaming of this, getting myself off to this for weeks. And now it’s finally here. He’s finally here.

  “I want you, Jessa,” Dean murmurs, backing me up toward the bed.

  “I want you too. So much,” I gasp, running my hands down his impeccable abs.

  “What you were saying the other night, about never having had anyone get to know your body…” he says, looking at me with bold, hot desire, “I want to do all those things for you, that no one else has done. I want to make you come every way I know how.”

  “How… How many ways do you know?” I ask, my eyes growing wide.

  “Let me show you,” he murmurs, guiding me down into the bed.

  “Show me, then…” I whisper, spreading my legs as I sit on the edge of the bed.

  Dean lifts my blue blouse up over my head, revealing a white cotton bra. I tug off his black tee shirt, letting it fall to the ground beside my bed. With an expert flick of the wrist, Dean reaches around my body and unhooks my bra. My breasts spill out in the late afternoon light as Dean kneels between my spread legs. I hook my ankles behind his back as he lowers his lips to my chest. Cupping my breasts firmly in his rough hands, he takes one hard nipple in his luscious mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue as he rubs his thumb lightly over the other. The muscles of my sex clench involuntarily as a sudden rush of sensation races through me.

  “You like that?” Dean asks, his lips vibrating against my hard nipple as he goes to take the other in his mouth.

  “It’s amazing,” I breathe, letting my head fall back between my shoulders.

  He sucks hard on my erect nipple, using just the slightest bit of teeth as he pulls away. I suck in a breath, delighted by the mix of pain and pleasure. Dean’s lips travel down my stomach as he pops open the button of my jeans shorts. Eagerly, I push my shorts down and kick them off, sitting before Dean in nothing but a black thong. With just the right amount of firm guidance, Dean places my hands back on the bed. His action clearly says, Let me. And I’m more than willing to abide.

  Kissing along the flat plane of my stomach, Dean pushes me onto my back. I lay myself out before him, ready to put my body entirely in his hands. He makes me feel so safe, so taken care of, that ceding control doesn’t even scare me. I watch as he kisses just above the top of my thong, nipping at the point of my hip bone as his eyes flick up to mine. He pauses in his attentions to unbuckle his belt, stepping out of his jeans so that he’s wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer briefs.

  My eyes go wide as they trace along the throbbing outline of his cock. I’ve felt hints of his enormity before, but seeing it with my own eyes is another matter entirely. My mouth begins to water as I imagine taking that massive cock between my lips, running my tongue all along its impressive length. The pressure between my legs surges as I imagine what he would feel like, driving into my wet, eager pussy…

  But why imagine when we can know?

  “You like what you see?” he grins, swinging my legs onto the bed and kneeling over me.

  “And then some,” I breathe, laying beneath him as he lowers his mouth toward my pussy once again.

  Dean keeps his eyes on mine as he closes his teeth around the edge of my panties, pulling them down my thighs. I spread my legs wide for him as he tugs my thong off my body, letting it fall onto the bedspread beside us. My knees begin to tremble as he drinks in the sight of me, spread wide open before him. No one’s ever looked at me with so much desire. So much awe. So much hunger.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he growls, setting his hands firmly on my thighs as he brings his mouth to my sopping wet sex.

  My words fall away as I feel his breath against my slick wetness. He pushes back against my thighs as he brings his lips my pink flesh. My back arches as he traces his tongue along my pulsating slit, delving into the lips of pussy with every pass. A low, warm feeling of bliss starts to collect inside of me. It’s like my body temperature is rising with every lick of that expert tongue. But then, Dean pushes back the hood of my clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue against that tender bundle, and I can feel by body straining against its very edges. As he lavishes my clit with his tongue, I feel like I could disintegrate under the intensity of my own bliss.

  “Oh my god,” I gasp, bucking my hips as teases my clit, “Dean, that’s so good…”

  But he doesn’t stop there. With his mouth attending to my elated clit, he slides two thick fingers back into my pussy. My legs are shaking uncontrollably as I feel him everywhere, enveloping me in hot, overpowering sensation. My eyes screw up as I realize I’m a goner. There’s nothing to do now but give in. Flinging my arms out and grabbing handfuls of sheets, I let Dean send me flying forward into bliss.

  With one last, firm flick of his tongue, he pushes me right over the edge. I cry out as I come hard into his waiting mouth. Waves and waves of sensation roll over my body, leveling me with their sheer power. Dean holds onto me as if I could really be swept away, lapping up my juices and savoring every drop. My body falls heavily back against the mattress as if steamrolled. My bare chest rises and falls as Dean kisses up along my thigh, my stomach, my chest. I roll into his body as he wraps me up in his arms, bringing his mouth to mine. I can taste myself on his lips and tongue as he kisses me deeply there in my bedroom. I press my body to Dean’s in stunned silence, my mind still scrambling to comprehend what wondrous event just went down, here. Dean looks down at me in the afternoon light, studying my happily befuddled face.

  “You OK?” he asks softly, running his hand down my side.

  “OK?” I laugh softly, kissing his chest, “I’m fantastic.”

  Dean laughs, pulling me closer.

  “I love that I get to show you all of this…” he murmurs, stroking my hair.

  “I hope you’ll let me show you a thing o
r two myself,” I smile, glancing up at him. “I may not be able to introduce you to that much you haven’t had before, but…”

  I run my fingers along the band of his briefs, which are barely containing his massive erection. Dean breathes deeply as I slip my hand under the fabric of his underwear. I hold my breath as my hand brushes against his thick, rigid cock. Wrapping my fingers around his shaft, I can barely take him in one hand. He lets out a low groan as I work my hand along his cock, stroking him with a firm grip. I can feel his manhood growing harder in my grasp with every second, and I smile delightedly—thrilled to be giving him pleasure.

  With renewed energy, I swing my leg around and position myself between his legs. I tug down his red briefs, marveling as his cock springs free and stands at attention before me. Dean kicks off his briefs, lying beneath me with his hands planted on my hips. Carefully, I straddle him on my bed, my body quivering with anticipation.

  “Hold on,” he murmurs, reaching over the side of the bed for his jeans. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom.

  “I like a man who comes prepared,” I smile eagerly.

  Dean rolls onto his back, ripping open the condom with his teeth. Daringly, I let the tip of his cock brush against my slick pussy. Dean groans at the sensation, his eyes screwing up tight.

  “You trying to kill me, Cahill?” he growls.

  “Maybe a little,” I admit, lifting myself away from his cock.

  “Well. It’s working,” he grins, pinching the air out of the tip of the condom.

  I watch with bated breath as he brings the rubber to his cock. I can’t believe this is finally happening. Any trepidation I thought I might feel is nowhere to be found, now. The only thing I’m feeling is ready. So, so ready.

  Just as Dean is about to roll the condom down his shaft, though, something catches my eye outside the bedroom window. Cold panic rips a hole straight through me as I watch my parents’ car swing into the driveway.

  “Holy shit,” I cry out, leaping off of Dean and tossing his briefs into his lap, “Get dressed, hurry!”

  “What?” he replies, sitting up in a daze of confusion.

  “My parents are back,” I hiss, scrambling into my thong and shorts.

  Like a shot, Dean is up and dressing. We yank our clothes back on as a key rattles in the lock downstairs. I duck around Dean and straighten my bed as the front door clatters angrily open. Fully dressed at last, I smooth down my hair and grab a notebook from the desk. Dean sits in my desk chair, using a heavy textbook to obscure his erection as someone storms around downstairs and out into the backyard. A second, softer set of footstep begins to ascend the stairs as I open up my notebook, pretending to be hard at work. I glance up at Dean, take a breath, and start to improvise.

  “So like I was saying,” I begin, “The symbolism in The Scarlet Letter is actually— Oh, hey Mom.”

  “Hey you two,” my mom says, appearing in my bedroom doorway, “Sorry to barge back in so early. I just came down with the worst headache.”

  I observe my mother, noting her vacant eyes and slightly rattled smile. I’ve never known her to get headaches. Especially not the sort that could keep my dad from a public event. Now that my panic is subsiding, I wonder about the slamming front door, the storming through the house just now. What has him so angry this time?

  “It’s all good,” I say to Mom, “We’re just studying up here, so…”

  For a second, I worry that my mom is going to press us on what, exactly, we’ve been up to in my bedroom. Her eyes flicker between me and Dean, just on the edge of being onto us. But I can tell that she doesn’t have the energy for suspicion right now. Not after whatever just went down with my dad.

  “If you guys don’t need anything, I think I’m just going to lie down for a bit,” she says, her voice hollow.

  “Sure Mom,” I tell her, “Whatever you need.”

  Dean and I watch her retreat down the hallway, closing her bedroom door gently behind her. At last, we lock eyes across the room, amazed at our near miss and frustrated beyond belief. I notice the condom wrapper lying on the floor just behind my bedroom door. If Mom had happened to glance down, she would have seen it as clear as day. This whole thing could have gone south in a heartbeat if Dean and I weren’t lucky. One thing’s for sure—we’re going to have to be more careful in the future.

  Because there will be a future, mark my words. After what just went down between us, there’s no way I’m not going to follow through on going to bed with this incredible man. The only question is, when?

  “Is your mom OK?” Dean asks quietly, glancing down the hallway.

  “She’ll be fine. I think,” I reply, my brow furrowed. “I’m sorry you had to be here for this. It’s just… It’s kind of how things go around here.”

  “I had no idea,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Guess we don’t know each other quite that well yet,” I smile softly.

  We sit in silence, reflecting on my words. When you’re caught up in the moment, it’s easy to mistake lust for closeness. But in a lot of ways, Dean and I are still strangers. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just good to be reminded. I may want to know him deeply, but I don’t. Not yet.

  “I should probably get going, huh?” Dean asks.

  “Probably,” I sigh, “Something tells me that my dad isn’t going to be in the most hospitable mood.”

  Dean gathers his things, and I walk him down to the front porch. Our house is eerily silent in the fallout from my parents’ fight. God knows what their squabble was over this time. Part of me wishes that Dean could stay here and keep me company, but a much larger part doesn’t want to drag him into the shit show that is my home life.

  “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” I say quietly, standing beside him on the top step.

  “Disappointed?” he echoes, shoving a hand through his hair, “Why would I be disappointed, Jessa?”

  “Well. I didn’t exactly get to reciprocate…” I mutter.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he says, laying a hand on my arm, “We’ve got all the time in the world for…reciprocity.”

  “Ooh,” I smile, “Someone’s been racking up the SAT words.”

  “Yeah, would you look at that,” he grins back, “You must be a really good tutor—it’s paying off already.”

  Our eyes lock, and the urge to kiss is overpowering. But we can’t risk it. Not here, not now. Instead, Dean gives my hand a light squeeze.

  “I’ll see you soon Jessa,” he murmurs.

  “Promise?” I ask.

  “Promise,” he replies.

  He shoves his hands deep in his pockets and walks down the front steps, heading home for the day. I lean against the pillar holding up from the front porch, wanting with every fiber in my being to chase after him. This afternoon was such a tease, for both of us. But I’ve waited this long to find someone I wanted as much as I want Dean. I guess I can wait a little longer to have him at last.

  Chapter Five

  Dean

  The first half of Friday’s away game has been rough, to say the least. After our victory at the home opener, we’ve been lax on the field tonight. Something that Coach Cahill has no intention of letting us forget.

  “What in the name of all that is good and holy are you boys doing out there?” he demands, as we gather in the locker room during half time. “You’re disgracing yourselves. You know that?”

  “We’ve got to get our heads back in the fucking game,” Royce puts in, looking around at the team.

  “Don’t you interrupt me, son,” Cahill roars at Royce, “You’re the quarterback, not the coach. And you’ve been a damn lousy quarterback all night at that.”

  Coach isn’t wrong. Royce has been unfocused throughout the entire first half. I’ve been doing my best to pick up the slack, but there’s only so much one man can do.

  “Crash,” Coach Cahill snaps, looking my way, “I’m gonna be leaning on you hard in the secon
d half. You up to that?”

  “Of course, Coach,” I nod, feeling Royce’s glare swing my way from across the room. Looks like someone’s pissed that the Coach has a new favorite. Though to be honest, I don’t have any interest in being this guy’s prized player after what I saw at his house yesterday. I still don’t know what exactly went down between him and Mrs. Cahill, but I know what Jessa doesn’t feel at ease around him. That’s all I need to know to be wary of the guy. But I can’t let his shitty personality throw me off my game. We need at least one player to keep his shit together out there, for fuck’s sake.

  As we trudge back onto the field after halftime, we’re greeted by a round of jeers from the opposing team’s fans. We’ve down by seven points, and the other team’s fans are absolutely loving it. Their smug satisfaction sets my blood to boiling.

  Good. Get angry, I think to myself, Someone needs to light a fire under this team’s ass, and it might as well be you.

  “All right boys,” I call out as the offensive line goes to take the field, “Let’s do this!”

  “Hey,” Royce growls, stepping up to me so only I can hear him, “Cool it with the grandstanding bullshit, OK? You may be Cahill’s pick of the week, but I’m still the captain.”

  “Then why don’t you try acting like it?” I snap back at him, “So the rest of us don’t have to keep picking up your damn slack.”

  “What the hell has gotten into you lately, Crash?” Royce spits back, “You’d better get that ego in check, or we’re gonna have some serious problems.”

  “You want to talk to me about ego?” I scoff, “That’s fuckin’ rich.”

  Just before Royce can step to me, Buck appears between us.