Scoring Position (Daytona Fury #2)

24. Ace

TWENTY-FOUR

ACE

“Why am I here again?” Lark says, digging her heels into the ground in an attempt to resist as I pull her toward the door of the Fury practice facility. It’s All-Star weekend, so we have three days off in a row, which I plan on taking full advantage of. My final exam is coming next week, and I need all the study time I can get.

“Because,” I say, stopping and turning toward her. “I want you to read to me while I work out.”

She raises a brow. “You want me to read about the sperm’s journey during conception in front of your teammates while you lift weights?”

I reach for her hand, but she pulls away, turning so I can’t get ahold of her. “Yes,” I reply, annoyed. “Riggs will love it. All he talks about is how hot Monroe is going to be when he gets her pregnant.” He’s not even here, but I’m trying to ease her mind so she’ll stop being so combative. I need this review.

“That’s called a breeding kink, Ace. It doesn’t mean he wants to listen to me blather on about how babies are made. Everyone is going to wonder who brought the crazy lady. I’m not going in there.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, pretending to give up. As soon as she lets her guard down, I dart toward her, bending at the knees and throwing her over my shoulder.

“Put me down!” she shouts, beating on my back with the textbook she has clutched in both hands.

“Will you quit it?” I reply, arching every time she slaps the hard cover against me because, shit, that stings . I walk toward the door, swinging it open and marching past security with a wave as she fights to get free. As soon as we hit the empty hallway that leads to the gym, I slap my hand against her ass, making her stiffen.

“You did not just spank me, Mathers!” she says on a gasp.

“Yes, I did. Maybe if you’d do as you’re told, I wouldn’t have to punish you.” My voice is stern, but as usual, I’m having fun going back and forth with her. It’s who we are, and it’s why we work so well. When she needs some excitement in her life, I’m here to remind her that it’s okay to act like a kid every once in a while.

She slumps against me, hanging like a rag doll as I make my way toward the weight room. “I just didn’t want you to blow your back out. Jeez,” she mumbles quietly.

I stop, sliding her down my body until her feet hit the floor. She rights her clothes, and I grip her cheeks roughly between my thumb and fingers, forcing her to look up at me with wide blue eyes. “Don’t insult me, Sweets. You’re half my warm-up weight. I could lift you with two fingers. So, the only person who will be getting their back blown out”—I pause and press a kiss to her squished lips—“is you when we’re done here. Now let’s fucking go.”

She huffs a breath, throwing her head back dramatically and taking my offered hand as I usher her through the wide metal doors that lead to the Daytona Fury training center. It’s fairly empty today because we aren’t required to be here, and because some of the guys, like Riggs and Hawk, are playing in the All-Star Game. One day, I’ll get there. Until then, I’m happy paying my dues right here. Plus, it would’ve been a real shit show if I had to spend the last week I have to prepare for my Human Sexuality final in Houston doing all the public appearances that come with playing in the game.

“There’s my little sharpshooter!” Jackson shouts as he runs up to us, wrapping Lark in his arms and lifting her off the floor. “What’s up, girl?” She giggles as he puts her down, and I weave my fingers back through hers because pissing on her leg like a dog probably wouldn’t go over well. I know Jacks is a flirt, and his behavior doesn’t mean he’s hitting on her, but I still want to make it crystal clear that she’s mine.

“I’m good,” she replies, leaning into me slightly. The gesture makes my heart squeeze in my chest because just a few weeks ago, she was hell-bent on making sure nobody knew we were anything more than tutor and student. We never really talked about it, but I guess our night out at the bar was when everything shifted between us. Sure, we knew we were role-playing, but from the outside, the few people who were still there saw us—Ace and Lark—all over each other.

“This guy giving you any trouble with that?” he says, pointing toward the textbook she’s hugging to her chest.

She shakes her head, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s been a model student. Very… interested in the course material.” I smirk, lifting my chin smugly because, damn right, I am. I’ve demonstrated my understanding of what I’ve learned several times, including once this morning when I made her ride my face while she gripped the headboard like her life depended on it. Then, I tossed her sated body onto the mattress and fucked her until she was dripping my cum all over the sheets.

Jackson sucks his teeth, sliding his knowing gaze over to me. “Yeah, I bet he is. You two kids have fun.” He ruffles Lark’s hair and extends his hand to me for a high five before taking off in the direction of the athletic trainer’s office.

“Come on,” I say, pulling her toward the squat machine. As a catcher, working my legs and glutes is important because I’m up and down a lot, often very quickly. I need to make sure my body is in top shape to do so. I slide a metal folding chair over so she’s close enough that I can hear as she reads, but not so far that everyone else in the place can. Motioning for her to sit, I make sure she’s comfortable before stretching so I don’t hurt myself. “Can we go over the development of the embryo before and after implantation? I think I get it for the most part, but I keep mixing up the stages.”

“Yeah,” she replies, opening the textbook. I finish warming up and walk to the machine, adding the correct amount of weight before settling my shoulders under the pads with my back facing her. “So, before it becomes an embryo, the zygote makes its way to the uterus, where the endometrial lining is thickening in preparation for its arrival.”

“Okay,” I say, standing to my full height to unlock the machine before bending at the knees.

“By the time it gets there, it’s divided into…umm…” she trails off for a second before finishing her sentence, “into anywhere from fifty to a hundred cells, making it a blastocyst. That’s when…” she drifts off again, “when it implants…” Her tone is breathy and broken, prompting me to stop and turn my head to see if she’s alright.

Not only is she alright, but her cheeks are completely flushed as her gaze locks onto my ass. She’s so entranced that she doesn’t even notice me looking until I bark a laugh, pulling her attention back to my face. Her eyes go wide because she knows she’s caught, and I can’t stop myself from messing with her. It’s nice to see her flustered for once, since it’s usually me who’s ready to drop to my knees and bark like a fucking dog for her.

“Be a good girl and keep going for me, Sweets,” I say in a low, gravelly voice, returning to my workout as she focuses back on the book.

“Once it’s implanted, the blastocyst is referred to as an embryo.” I squat down, going slower than normal and making sure she’s getting a good look at my glutes as they stretch the material of my athletic shorts. She exhales a shaky breath, continuing. “At this time, the placenta begins to develop, so…” Here she goes again, “so blood and nutrients can be transferred from the mother to the baby throughout the p-pregnancy.” I chuckle under my breath, loving the way this is affecting her.

I do a few more reps as she struggles through the chapter, standing to lock the machine before stepping away and wiping my face with a towel from one of the nearby racks. I’m high on her reaction to watching me work out, and all I can focus on is getting her more turned on as we move from one machine to the next, until we finally stop near the cardio equipment. Normally, I’d opt for a stationary bike since it’s the easiest on my joints, but today I have a better idea.

“You can sit over by the mirrors while I finish up,” I tell her. “I think I understand everything now. Just let me get some cardio in, then I’ll take you home.”

“Okay,” she says with a nod, walking over and plopping down on the bench as I take a jump rope from where it hangs on the wall. “Rodeo” by Lah Pat plays over the speakers and I can’t help but laugh internally at how perfect this whole thing just became with a simple song.

I start easy, slowly jumping and watching as she attempts to look anywhere but at me. We can’t have that, though. I need her undivided attention. Reaching between my shoulder blades, I peel my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor as her eyes slide down my exposed chest and abs like a magnet. She swallows thickly, crossing her legs and shifting around as though she’s uncomfortable.

“You okay?” I ask, stifling an arrogant grin. “You look like you’re struggling over there.”

“I’m fine. It’s hot in here,” she replies, putting a hand on her flushed cheek. It’s definitely not hot, but I don’t call her out. I’m enjoying this too much.

“I’m almost done,” I say, gripping a handle in each hand and resuming my workout. Her eyes bounce around my body as if she can’t decide what she wants to watch most, but when they lock onto my groin area, it’s clear that she’s found something she likes. Unblinking, she stares at my dick unabashedly, obviously forgetting that there are other people in the room. Her thighs twitch as she squeezes them together, shifting again on the bench. As much as I’m loving this, it’s only a matter of time before my body starts reacting to the idea of her getting aroused while watching me, so I cut it off before that happens.

I come to a stop, hanging the rope back on the wall and heading her way. Leaning down, I bring my lips to her ear and nip at the lobe, making her gasp quietly. “When you stand, am I going to find a wet spot where that needy pussy was crying for me?”

She exhales a shaky breath. “I don’t know, but I’m never coming to the gym with you again.”

I chuckle, extending my hand for her to take. She does, and when I pull her up, I’m both relieved and disappointed to see that the bench is still dry. She’d have killed me and died of embarrassment immediately after if it wasn’t, so it’s probably a good thing her panties contained the mess I know she made for me.

“Come on, naughty girl,” I say, weaving my fingers through hers and leading her to the exit. “Let’s go home.”