Chapter 25
CAMDEN
After the Thanksgiving game, we had a few days off before we were back to our regularly scheduled program with a Sunday game, and since it’s a light day before travel, I scheduled a cupping session to help relieve the tension in my back after our walk-through on the field.
I’m pulling my T-shirt over my head as I head down the hall when Malcolm finds me.
He claps me on the shoulder. “How are you?”
“Didn’t expect to see you today.”
He fixes his tie. “I’m making the rounds.”
“Checking up on all your babysitting duties.”
“Unfortunately, but not for you,” he says, then gestures around us. “You’ve done well the past few months.”
I scoff. “Wasn’t it you warning me to think with my head and not my dick just a few days ago?”
He shrugs. “Every man needs a reminder every once in a while, but you handled that situation very well.”
He means I kept my mouth shut about Valerie’s online revenge post and let the scandal-in-the-making fade into nothing.
“I’m proud of you for turning it all around,” Malcolm says, and I loop my arm over his shoulders, jostling him.
“Does that mean I’m off your naughty list?”
“As long as you don’t mess up again.”
“But you’ll miss me. I know you will.”
He shakes his head. “One of these days, I’ll have all of you miscreants off my list, and I’ll finally be able to go on vacation without receiving a phone call that one of you has driven off a cliff or impregnated Miss America.”
I point my index finger in the air. “I’d like to note, I’ve done neither of those things.”
“Thank the Lord. Just cool it on the racing and keep it in your pants, and it will stay that way.”
“I’ll try my best.” I hold out my hand for Malcolm to shake, feeling like I’ve been let out of detention early. While I’ve lost my desire to race, I’ve put all of my energy into Nadine. So, no, I won’t be keeping it in my pants.
Especially when I arrive home to find her leaning over the kitchen counter, peeling a mandarin orange. She must’ve been at the gym—working out with her female personal trainer—because she’s in one of her matching spandex outfits, the fine baby hairs stuck to her temples and neck with sweat.
She smiles my way. “Didn’t expect you home so early.”
I don’t bother even greeting her, simply cross the room in three strides, capturing her in my arms, loving the way she laughs into a moan when I tug on her ponytail, angling her head back so I can kiss and suck on her throat. “You smell so good.”
“I smell terrible.” She attempts to push me away with her ass, but all she does is grind it against my swiftly growing cock.
“No.” I lick at her skin and use my other hand to grip her chin, slanting her mouth to mine. “You smell like sweat and oranges.” I kiss her, making sure she knows I love her scent, her flavor, gliding my tongue along hers then across her bottom lip, nibbling on it. “You taste like it too.”
Intoxicating.
In the last few days, we’ve done nothing but have sex any time she’s at my place.
She went back to her brother’s house to spend more time with her family after we got together and has slept there every night since, though she’ll be back in my bed this weekend, even if I won’t be there.
Simply knowing she’s there will make me feel better, though.
I’ve kept myself buried inside her whenever possible, which has not been all that often.
Between my practices and Paisley’s schedule, it’s an hour or so total before Nadine has to go back to Erik’s and pretend like we’re not together.
I had a conversation with my sister, so she knows Nadine and I are in a relationship, but that she is the only one to know and she needs to keep it a secret.
She was elated to find out that she was right because she “knew we were in love the whole time.”
When I told her, she danced around and clapped, signing so fast, I had to have her repeat it three times. Apologizing for thinking I was Joey Donner, asking to be the maid of honor at our future wedding, and promising to keep our relationship a secret for now.
So while Nadine and I try to keep our hands off each other in front of my fifteen-year-old sister, when she’s otherwise occupied, my hands are on my girlfriend.
And she has yet to say no to me. Like I fantasized.
“Bend over,” I order. “Farther.”
Nadine forgets about her orange and curls her hands around the edge of the marble, angling her hips so far back, her chest almost touches the counter, and I drag her bike shorts down her legs, finding her bare underneath.
“Filthy fucking girl.” I roam my hands over the globes of her ass and between them. “You knew I was going to be doing this and wanted to be ready, huh?”
She glances over her shoulder, trying on an attitude. “Maybe I don’t like wearing underwear when I work out.”
I smack her thigh. “Or maybe you wanted me to know, drive me wild thinking about it later.”
I don’t let her answer because I bend, swiping my tongue over her slit, stretching her cheeks with my hands, giving me room to tease her all over.
She wiggles her hips, groaning softly when I lap at her clit, trying to make her as wet as possible since I don’t have any lube close and I’m too impatient to give her the few orgasms she deserves right now. I just need to be inside her.
Keeping one hand on her hip, I put her into position, while I work on shoving my sweats and underwear down enough to free my length. We’ve both been tested and cleared, so we haven’t used a condom since that first night together, and I’m able to thrust inside with nothing between us.
As always, the first grip of her tight heat is painfully good, and I hiss as I find my vision and footing before inching out and in a few times. But my girl’s as impatient as I am today, arching her spine and pushing against me. So I give her what we both want and fuck her hard and fast.
“Yes, Camden,” she pants out, and I love my name on her lips anytime, but especially when her head is thrown back and her fingers are scrabbling for purchase.
With such a big height difference between us, I’m always hunching over and bending my knees, but I’m so focused on being inside her that I wrap my hands around her hinged hips and lift her up, so her toes no longer touch the floor.
She squeals in surprise before it melts into a moan when I grit out, “I got you. I got you.”
And I do.
I won’t let her go. I won’t hurt her.
I only want to love her.
As long and as often as possible.
Whether it’s with a hug or earning a playful eye roll or a slow, drawn-out orgasm, I want to give her everything she needs to keep her happy.
In the few short days I’ve been able to indulge in all of my fantasies—chaste and innocent or completely depraved—I’ve come to know her well.
Like the fact that her love language is quality time and that she doesn’t have a favorite holiday and would live somewhere with warm weather year-round.
She used to love playing Barbies as a kid because she would set them all up as her students so she could teach them, and she still keeps in touch with her college friends and former colleagues from her school.
She eventually wants two or three kids and would like a refrigerator that makes crushed ice because it’s her favorite kind.
I didn’t know people could have favorite kinds of ice, but I do know what Nadine Rivera looks and sounds like when she orgasms, so I know she’s close now.
I am too. I’m always close when I’m inside her, continually on the edge, only barely holding out because I go over my stats in my head, trying my best to ignore her whimpers that rocket my adrenaline.
“Get there, Riv,” I grunt, on my way to pleading, and set her feet on the floor, so I can loop my arm around her, circling her clit with my fingers, finally sending her soaring.
She takes me with her, inner muscles clamping around me as she chants yes, yes, yes quietly. I keep pumping into her, making a mess of us, watching as my come leaks out of her, smearing on her thighs.
“So hot,” I rasp, and she eventually lifts her head from the counter to meet my gaze over her shoulder.
“Filthy fucking boy.”
I grunt a chuckle. “Damn right. But I’ll clean you up.” I carefully pull out of her and hike up my sweats. Then I sweep her into my arms, carrying her like a bride to the bathroom. “Take a bath with me.”
“Well, if you insist,” she says like she’s put out.
I set her down on the counter of the sink to run the water, adding some oil. I strip first, turning away from her to check the temperature, and that’s when I feel her behind me, hands touching the circular bruises on my back. “Tender?”
When I shake my head, she kisses one before removing her clothing. I watch her pick up her pile of clothes and mine to put in the laundry bin, hidden in the closet, unafraid of being naked in front of me and behaving as if this is her house too.
I want it to be.
Strolling about in nothing but her birthday suit, grabbing new clean towels, and helping herself to stepping inside the tub. When she realizes I’ve been leering at her like an idiot, she raises her brows. “What?”
“Nothing. I just love you, is all.”
Her smile is a direct hit on my heart, and she sits, leaning forward to make room for me behind her in the bath.
When I bought this place, I made sure that the tub would be big enough for me to soak in, but I’m eternally grateful Past Me chose the biggest one, large enough for Future Me and Nadine to comfortably relax in.
I prop my arms up on the sides, and she lays her head against my pec, the water steaming around us.
“How was your day?” she asks, and I let my head roll on the rounded lip behind me.
“The usual pregame stuff, but I had a visit from Malcolm.”
I’ve told Nadine all about my babysitter, and she snickers. “What did he have to say?”
“That I’ve been such a good boy, I’m officially off the naughty list.”
She breathes an amused sound. “Must mean the higher-ups are proud of you.”
I couldn’t give a shit about what Debra Rosenstein or anyone else thinks about me. Only that my family is proud of me—Paisley and Nadine. Everyone else can fuck off.
“He told me to make sure I’m not racing and to keep my dick in my pants.”
“You already failed that one.”
“I know.” I slip my hand below the water to cup her pussy. “When I have a live-in sex doll, what else am I supposed to do?”
She rears her elbow back, nailing me in the side. “Hey, ow! Riv, that hurt.”
She clucks her tongue. “Did not. You’re made of rock.”
“Yeah, I know.” I rub my dick against her lower back to make sure she can feel exactly how hard I am.
“You are exhausting.”
“As if you don’t love it.” I drag my tongue over the shell of her ear and smile against it when goose bumps appear on her flesh, even under the hot water.
“I can’t only be your live-in sex doll, you know. I sent in my last application.”
I squeeze her waist. “Nice. Which one?”
“St. Joe’s.” She proceeds to walk me through the pros and cons of each graduate program she’s applied to, all of them located in Philadelphia.
She explains the difference between what she can do with her master’s versus her doctorate, and how she hasn’t decided how far she wants to go but is leaning toward her PhD, though she’s nervous about it because she fears she won’t be accepted to any of them.
Which is ridiculous. She’s applied to four schools, and even though she’s capable enough to get into all four, she has a hard time staying positive.
She struggles with her confidence, so I do my best to hype her up as she talks.
Reminding her how smart she is, that she’s worked hard, and it will pay off in the end.
When she’s finally done word-vomiting all her worries, I gather her up closer, crisscrossing my arms around her middle, and hold her tight. “I love you and I know whatever you decide to do, you’ll be amazing at it, but I hope you’ll still be my live-in sex doll.”
She breaks out in a giggle, and I press my face into her neck as she heaves a sigh. “You are relentless.”
“But you love me.”
“But I love you.” She turns, offering her mouth for a kiss. “Thanks for listening to me yap.”
“One of my favorite things to do.”
She reaches behind me to brush her hand over the hair at the nape of my neck. “I guess we need to get moving. Have to pick up Paise soon.”
I agree with a hum and retrieve the soap. We take turns washing each other, and she laughs when I tell her I want to use her shampoo and conditioner for my hair so I can smell like her. She obliges with a huge goofy grin.
It matches my own.
Then we get out, dress, and hop in my car to pick up Paisley.
Together.