Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
Tyson
The stadium energy is still buzzing under my skin when the clock hits zero.
A three-point loss and our first of the season.
It shouldn’t feel like a victory, but hell—if there’s a way to lose, this was it.
Two heavyweight teams trading touchdowns, and according to the coaching staff, we’re the two favorites to go to the Super Bowl.
I adjust the tape around my ankle, feeling the tight burn under the wrap. It held up better than I expected–didn’t really feel it until the second half.
We jog toward midfield, helmets off, ready to shake hands. I clap a few guys on the shoulder pads—good game, respect, all the usual. But my eyes keep drifting across the line.
The opposing sideline is a slight storm of bodies circling one person.
Blair.
She’s got this exhausted but proud smile, like she knows how important her role was in every point we put up.
The opposing team crowds her, tapping her helmet, grabbing her shoulders, yelling whatever praise she probably won’t believe later while she’s overthinking the film.
She lifts her chin a bit, and the stadium glow hits her face just right. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
I’m supposed to be shaking hands, but I slow down a step just to watch.
It looks good on her—being celebrated. Being wanted.
Being seen. Especially after our run-in with that dick bag, Oscar.
I called Benny that night, told him what happened, and he made sure to have a conversation with Blair about it.
I know he’s on her side. Just like most of the players. This moment is one of my favorites from each of the games since Blair has joined the roster—when they all get to meet her.
Blair catches me watching her and it’s like time stops. Everything slows, the guys introducing themselves, people being in awe of what she’s accomplished. It’s just her.
Here, from the sidelines, I know I’m looking at my future.
There’s a soft shuffle outside the door and then the faint scrape of paper against carpet. My heart leaps straight into my throat. Grabbing it, I see a room key with a note:
Shower in 5
-Blair
My stomach flips, like I’m at the top of the rollercoaster, looking over the drop. I look at the time and nervously wait for the five minutes to be up. I keep running my tongue over my bottom lip before pushing it through my teeth.
When it’s been five minutes, I crack the door open an inch, peering down both sides of the hall and checking to make sure none of my teammates or coaches are around. The coast is clear, and I can feel the relief wash over me, like when you get to sit after your first long practice of the season.
I close the door fast, leaning my back against it, pulse drumming through my ribs. The hotel logo glares at me from the keycard inside as I walk towards her room. We’re on the same floor but she’s quite a few away.
I round the corner of the hallway and then I’m in front of her room.
Quickly, I use the key to get in her room, hoping no one sees me.
Swinging the door open, the adrenaline of sneaking around and being in Blair’s room has me smirking.
The sound of the shower running, steam creeping from the cracked door leading to the bathroom, has me ripping off my clothes.
When I step in the bathroom, lavender and peppermint kisses me with the steam.
“Hey you. Right on time.” Blair’s voice is velvet on my skin.
It’s not long before I’m in the shower with her—the woman of my dreams. Fuck, I know I’m a complete goner and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Blair wraps her arms around me, her body pink from the hot water. We stand there for a few seconds and it’s hard to believe this is actually my life.
“Sorry about the game,” she almost whispers as her head rests on my chest.
“Not even on my radar,” I reassure her.
It’s true. A close loss like this would’ve been hard to swallow previous seasons, but honestly, seeing her on the field after? Being with her now? Sucks to lose but it’s not the end of the world.
“You don’t need a distraction?” she questions while pulling away, her lashes fluttering around her honey colored eyes. Blair leans in, her lips finding my neck, and I lean away to give her more room.
“If you’re the distraction, I always need one.” If I sound needy, it’s because I am. There’s no limit on how much of her I can take. How much I need. My time with Blair is never enough.
She stands in front of me, her body fucking perfect. The curve of her thighs. The slight dip of her waist. Her round ass. It’s enough to make me hard. When I go to reach for her, give it a stroke, her hand grabs my wrist.
Slowly, she goes down on one knee, and then the other. “No, it’s my turn.” Her lips are a breath away from my length.
Her fingers wrap around me, stroking from base to tip, nice and slow. Her eyes catch me looking at her—I swear, she fucking soaks in the gaze like I’m praising her.
She drags her tongue across her lower lip, painfully slow. Back and forth. When Blair places the softest, barely-there kiss to the head, I can’t help but give her a moan.
Pulling away, she has me leaning forward, wanting her to touch me with her mouth again. The push and pull of control—something we both love. She takes a breath, her hand still working me, before taking her tongue to the tip, giving it a swirl.
She has me in the palm of her hand. Literally.
Her lips kiss from the tip down to where her fingers grip me at the base. I think she’s going to make her way back, but instead her tongue laps at my balls. She takes one in her mouth, hums, and my knees almost buckle.
“Fucccck.” The word drips from my mouth like the bead of precum about to make itself known.
Blair asks, “Do you like this?” She does the same thing with the other, her tongue working me.
My voice wobbles when I try to answer. “Fuck. Of course I do.”
She switches her hand and her mouth—her hands lightly cup me while she licks up the base of my shaft.
Her hands then reach around the back of my thighs, holding her steady while she’s down on her knees. She opens her mouth and I take the initiative, fisting her hair while I slowly fuck her mouth.
I try not to go too fast but end up making her gag a few pumps later. “Sorry, baby,” I apologize, pulling out and giving her a second to regroup.
“Don’t apologize… I won’t break. Fuck me.” Her eyes are devilish and her voice is like a siren calling me.
“You’re fucking incredible,” I murmur while slowly entering her mouth.
Her lips close around me, her fingers digging into the back of my thighs. Pulling her hair a bit tighter, I thrust in and out of her mouth—she does her best to take me.
Blair moans, the vibrations surrounding me like her plump lips, and I’m teetering. Fucking close to coming in this perfect mouth.
One of her hands gives up the leverage of grabbing my thigh and cups my balls while she sucks me and that’s all it takes.
My balls tighten with my climax and as I start to come, Blair moans like she loves it. She takes it, every drop, lips around me as the shocks hit me over and over.
I’m panting when she pulls away. Before she swallows, my hands still in her hair, I say, “Show me.” And my good girl opens her mouth—my release sitting on her tongue.
“Now, swallow,” I demand.
I watch the muscles in her neck and see as she takes my release. Then I pull her up and place a searing kiss to her lips.
“You’re such a good girl, Blair,” I say and she kisses me back.
Who cares if you lost a football game when this is who you’re coming home to?