Chapter 18
18
R eid
“It’s been fun,” I shrug out of my jacket and hang it by the door, “but I’m heading to bed.”
“Same,” Reese says, nudging Twyler up the stairs. “Don’t forget we’ve got film to review in the morning.”
“Fuck, seriously?” Axel groans, definitely forgetting. “Doesn’t Coach know we’re growing boys who need to sleep in?”
“You know he’ll have food.” Twyler says. “And it’s a good day for the trainers to assess injuries and stuff too.”
Axel narrows his eyes at her. “You know, he’s not your boss anymore. You don’t always have to side with him.”
While they bicker, Shelby, who went straight to the laundry room when we got home, comes out with a clean basket of clothes, and heads to the French doors offering a quick, “Night,” to the room.
I join in while everyone calls out their ‘goodnights’ and Shelby slips behind the covered glass panes, unaware that I’ve been sporting a hard-on since she pulled me into that closet and shoved her tongue down my throat. That and I’ve been unable to think of anything other than the look on her face as she fell apart.
I’d told her the truth, that she’s utterly gorgeous when she comes–all that innocence and desire mingling together into something irresistible. I would’ve left early, desperate to get home and rub one off real quick, but I didn’t want to leave until she did. I can’t make sense of it. I just want to be in the same room with her. Watch her ass as she bends over to pick up a discarded napkin on the floor. Catch a glimpse of her smile as she laughs with Josie behind the bar.
I seriously considered luring her back to that closet, just so I could see her fall apart one more time.
Something’s wrong with me. It’s like an addiction. She’s an addiction and I haven’t even fucked her yet. I almost cried in relief when Axel announced he was waiting for Shelby to get off work before we started home, wanting to make sure she got there safe. I’m glad he said it, because there was no way in hell I was letting her cross campus alone at night, but it feels like all this sneaking around is going to get us in trouble.
Nah, it’s going to get me in trouble and I can’t even seem to care.
As everyone heads to their rooms, I take back all my bitching about my roommates changing now that they have serious girlfriends. For all of Axel’s complaints about getting up early, he’s eager to go to bed. It’s rare for Jefferson to have a girl over anyway, so he doesn’t count, but before Reese and Axel found Twyler and Nadia, a night like this would have lasted into the morning. We would have walked home from the Badger Den a little buzzed, stayed up late rehashing every bit of the match up with Hilldale and playing video games. Even when I was dating Darla, or during one of our many break-ups, there was always someone around to hang out with. Now all they care about is getting somewhere private to fuck their girls. A few weeks ago I would have been annoyed. Now, I’m about to crawl out of my skin for the house to go quiet so I can sneak my way to Shelby.
I follow everyone else upstairs but Reese calls out, “Yo, Reid, grab those lights.”
“Yeah, I’ll get them.”
I flip them off, one by one, lingering longer than I should to see if Shelby will come back out, or invite me in, or just throw me a fucking bone.
It’s with zero self-control that I hold my breath and tap on the glass pane. “GG,” I say quietly, “it’s me.”
The curtains pull to the side and our eyes meet.
A dozen hammering heartbeats later, the knob turns and she opens the door.
At first I miss it, too focused on trying to not make a fool of myself. Plus her legs are bare, long and sexy, her thighs cut off by the hem of the oversized jersey. It’s not until my eyes travel up that I really see her. It .
The tear in the sleeve. The number eight stitched just above it. Shelby Rakestraw is standing in the middle of that little porch wearing my jersey and nothing else.
Have. Fucking. Mercy.
I step into the room, not bothering to shut the door, and reach out, fisting the front of the shirt in my hand. “Where did you find this?”
Her head tilts back and I see the line of her throat clench as she swallows. “In the laundry room. I saw it in the basket and just thought… because you said–”
“I know what I said,” I growl, pushing her hair off her neck. I plant my lips on her soft skin, sucking hard. “I just didn’t know…” I trail off licking a hot trail across her skin because I don’t know if I can admit what I didn’t know. Like how seeing her flipped a switch inside of me, unleashing something possessive and feral. Like how my cock is so hard that with one touch I’d probably blow. But the one I really can’t confess, the biggest one of all, is the urge coursing through my veins that demands that I take her, mark her, and claim her. Mine .
I’m not supposed to make girls like Shelby mine. I’m not good for them. Good enough.
But I did promise her adventure and experience, and so far she’s met me step for step. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I drag her to me with one hand and kick the door shut with my foot. I sit on the couch, pulling her into my lap, afraid that if I get her horizontal it’ll go too far, but this, feeling her hot little pussy pressed against me, it’ll do.
“We can go upstairs,” she says between kisses, “and get in bed like you said.”
I laugh running my hand up her shirt and feeling the soft underside of her tit. “Sorry, GG, that’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?” she asks, breath hitching as I swipe a thumb over her nipple.
I withdraw my hands and use them to cup her face, making her look at me. Her eyes are filled with doubt and insecurity. Not cool. “Remember when I told you that if I were David there were other ways I’d show the world you were mine than a ring full of promises?”
She nods.
“There’s nothing sexier than a girl you’re into wearing your clothing.” Wrapping my arms around her, I trace the letters on her shoulders, starting with the ‘W.’ “Especially when it has your name on it. It sends a message.”
“To who?”
Fuck. She’s so innocent and sweet and has no idea how much effort it’s taking to control myself right now. “To the guy and to anyone else that sees it.”
A shiver runs up her spine and her back arches, drawing my eyes down to where her nipples poke through the fabric. The movement makes her press down on my erection and my mind goes blank. Hell. This girl is going to be the end of me.
“Did Darla wear your clothes?” The question comes as a surprise.
“No. Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Darla was more into fashion than I was. It was something we were kind of into together. Dressing like a fan, or worse, a jersey chaser, didn’t fit her style.” She also made it clear she didn’t want to be identified by my accomplishments. I understood it, but it also sucked. There’s something motivating for an athlete about having their “person” out in the stands supporting them. “It was fine.”
“But you like it.” She runs her hand down the side of my face, fingers trailing over my jaw. I’ve noticed she likes exploring my body. Touching the muscles on my abs and chest, the lines of my face. Something she couldn’t do with David. “Shouldn’t your girlfriend do nice things for you?”
I shrug it off. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
Her fingers move south, to the ‘V’ at the top of my button down shirt. I swallow, growing more aroused with every second. “I don’t know,” she says, a little of that naivety slipping away. “I think you deserve better than that, Reid Wilder.”
I restrain myself as Shelby unbuttons my shirt, giving me a soft kiss between every loosened button. She parts the fabric, revealing my chest, dipping her head to lay her tongue flat over my nipple. There’s no rush as she moves her hot, wet lips from one side to the other, toying and teasing me.
Did I say naive? Because none of this feels innocent or inexperienced.
I grab her behind and massage her ass over the cotton covered panties that drive me wild. Another way that she’s the opposite of Darla. No pretense, just function, and it’s still sexy as hell. I dip my fingers under the edge and feel the warm heat of her pussy. She seems more comfortable this time, leaning into my touch. “Fuck, GG,” I groan, stomach caving as she kisses my abdomen, “you’re so wet.”
She licks the spot under my belly button and I blame that tongue for short circuiting my brain because the next thing I know she’s unzipping my pants and has positioned herself between my thighs, down on her knees. Christ, she looks like a goddess.
She reaches for me and my brain comes back on all cylinders. I grab her wrist.
“Hold up,” I say, sitting up from where I’ve slumped down the couch. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a blow job.” She shoots me a look. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t had one before.”
“Well, yeah,” I run my hand through my hair and add, “but I’m pretty fucking sure you haven’t given one.”
“I haven’t,” she admits. “Do you not want one?”
“Baby girl, every man always wants a blow job.”
She snorts.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“That’s exactly what Nadia and Twyler said.”
I roll my eyes because those two. “What’s this about?”
“I may not be your girlfriend,” she says, “but the things you do to me, like today in the supply closet.” Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. “I want to do the same thing for you.”
“Sex isn’t transactional, Shelby. I did that for you because I like to make you feel good, not because I expect something in return.”
I don’t add the selfish reason that I like to be the one making her feel good.
“I know. This is about new things, right? Exploring all that stuff I never got to do before–all the things I want to do before I go back home.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And one of those is sucking my cock?” Her nose wrinkles, horrified by my choice of words. “Look, if you can’t handle the talk, then you can’t handle having me in your mouth.”
“I can handle it,” she says, chin lifting defiantly. Fuck, I want those lips around me, but only if she’s sure. “And I want to. Just like I want to wear this shirt. I like it. It makes me feel like I belong, like I’m just part of the group.”
“That, I understand.” It’s all I’ve strived for my entire life–a sense of belonging. “And you are part of the group. You’re not just Axel’s little sister. You’re a cool girl who came into town and blew us all away. You’ve got a job and although you still need a coat, your style has improved drastically.”
She grins. “Thank you.”
My eyes dart to her mouth, then back up. “You’re also sexy as fuck, Shelby, and thinking about you taking me in your mouth almost made my brain shut off. Don’t underestimate yourself and the power you have over men.” I swallow. “Especially me.”
“I won’t.” I hold out my hand, giving her the chance to get up off her knees, but she pushes it aside. I watch as she runs her hands down my abdomen, stomach dipping, until she’s freed me from the confines of my shorts and has me in her grip. There’s no time to even blink before she’s let her tongue dart out to taste the tip.
“Shit, Shelby.” She’s tentative, but that only makes it sexier, feeling her hot breath against my skin. Cupping my hand behind her neck, I stroke her skin in encouragement. “You good?”
“Yes,” she says, gripping the base of my cock in her hand. “What should I do?”
“Keep doing that. Whatever. Lick me.” Her tongue touches me again, this time swiping under the ridge of the head. My hips rise off the couch, and I tighten my grip on her neck. My touch seems to embolden her, and she opens her mouth, taking me in. Her tongue flattens underneath, lathing me with warm, wet, heat.
“How deep can you take me?” She looks up at me with wide blue eyes and takes me further. Sweat slides down my back. “Fuck, that’s my good girl.”
A grin tugs at her lips, and Shelby’s naivety seems to vanish in the moment, her confidence rising with every bob of her head. She’s got me teetering on the edge, my balls tightening, hips thrusting. “G,” I nudge her chin, “I’m close.”
I’m past close.
My hips jerk and I can tell she’s not going to back off, so I do it for her, pulling her up and crashing her mouth to mine. My release spills, hot and slippery, down the side of my shaft. I taste myself on her tongue–taste myself inside of her—and my already hammering heart threatens to break free from my ribs.
Releasing her, I shudder out a deep breath and she rocks back on her heels. I study her, lips puffy and swollen, still wearing that jersey that rises and falls as she catches her breath.
She breaks first, grabbing a towel hanging nearby and offering it to me. Once I clean up, I crook my finger and say, “Come here.” She curls into my side, splaying her hand over my stomach. “I meant what I said earlier tonight. You’re gorgeous and,” I kiss her on the temple, “you’re really good at making me feel good. Thank you.”
She grins, and my heart stumbles, feeling all kinds of ways that I didn’t plan for. All kinds of ways I shouldn’t, but I’m too happy to care.
“Remember,” Jane, the PR coordinator stands in front of the big screen coach used to show us film, “even though there’s no game on the schedule, Wittmore’s Badger Family Day on Saturday is mandatory.”
For once no one argues about having to participate in a charity event. Why would they? Providing a day for foster kids to learn to skate and play a bunch of games? It’s all a good time.
“When you arrive there will be new jerseys for you to wear that day. They’ll be in your lockers.”
“Come on, Jane,” Reese says, that all-American grin flashing. “Give us a peek at our boy’s design.”
Every eye in the room swings toward me, including Jane, who is blushing at Reese’s attention. There’s not a woman that crosses his path that doesn’t fall for his charm.
“Not until tomorrow.” She smiles. “But I can say that Mr. Wilder did an amazing job.”
She continues, giving us a firm warning about not being late, and Reese chimes in letting us know there will be no partying the night before. The easy going grin from before is gone. “This weekend is about the kids. If you show up hungover or late, there will be hell to pay.”
There’s no argument from the team and even Jefferson agrees to follow the rules. I’m headed to the locker room to grab my things when Jane calls out, “Reid, can you talk for a minute?”
“Hey,” I say, dodging the guys as they file out the door. “Is everything okay with the designs?”
“They turned out great. Everyone in the office loves them.” She pauses while Emerson and Murphy pass by. “When I sent them to the athletic director’s office they loved them too and want to use them on new merchandise heading into the playoffs.”
“Seriously?”
“Dead serious. You’re a really talented artist and have fresh ideas. Merch sales have been lagging for the last few seasons. We’ve definitely needed a rebrand and everyone thinks you’re the perfect style for what we’re looking for.” She tilts her head. “We can even pay you.”
My head spins at the news. “That sounds really cool.”
“I’ve already spoken to Coach Bryant and assured him that if you take on this work it won’t interfere with your hockey schedule. Your advisor has also agreed that any additional work you put into this can be used as part of your senior project.”
“Wow,” I run my hand through my hair, “okay, so you’ve thought this through.”
“Only because the work you’ve given us so far is so good and that’s how much we want to continue working with you.” She straightens. “I’ll get you the paperwork and any details you’ll need. Truthfully, you’ve already done the hard work. This will just be a little tweaking to expand the design to other products.”
Jane walks out, and I continue to the locker room. I’m stunned at the reaction to my design. It started off as a little tweak on the original logo and mascot, something fun for the event, but I had no idea it would build like this.
When I get into the locker room, the guys are still there, talking about who they’re inviting to the Family Day.
“Twyler’s going to volunteer with Coach Green,” Reese says, hitching his bag over his shoulder, “just in case they need another set of hands for first-aid.”
Murphy is bringing his parents. Pete’s girlfriend from back home is coming up. I’m shrugging on my coat when Axel chimes in, “Nadia will be here and I figure I’ll see if Shelby wants to come. It’ll be her last weekend before she goes home.”
Wait, what?
“Already?” Jefferson asks for me. “She’s really going back?”
“I have a feeling if I don’t get her on that plane my mother will fly out here and get her herself and no one wants the wrath of Mrs. Reverend Rakestraw to blow through here.” He slams his locker shut. “It sucks though. I can already see the change in her. She’s more independent and outspoken. Confident.”
“Maybe she’ll tell your mother to fu–” Jefferson swallows back the curse, “back off.”
“Easier said than done.” Axel pulls the black skull-cap out of his bag. “As much as I want my little sister to break free of my parents’ control, I don’t see it happening long-term. She’s just not that kind of girl.”
What kind of girl is that? I want to ask. Is she not the kind that would go get a job to earn money of her own for the first time? Or to break up with her almost-fiance so she can experience new things without any shackles holding her back? But most of all, is she not the kind of girl that would give his best friend a blow job while everyone else was asleep in the house?
Because that’s the Shelby I know and the idea that she could be leaving soon hits me hard.
“What about you, Wilder?” Emerson asks. “Who are you bringing?
“Uh, my dad and probably my sister.”
“The cute older one?” Jefferson asks. “Or the cute younger one?”
I shoot him a glare. “The much younger, totally illegal, one.”
He winks. “Gotcha.”
I know he’s just kidding, but the irony isn’t lost on me. Who am I to judge or accuse people of hooking up with a friend’s sister when I can’t keep my hands off of Shelby?