Jenna 12.
“I want it, you can’t keep it from me.” Andres snarls in my ear, his big body at my back, pressing my knees into the mattress.
My back arches at his words, my ass rising up to meet him thrust after thrust. I’m already sore from his punishing strokes, but my body begs for more.
I want him as deep as he can get, I want him embedded in my DNA, I want to carry him with me wherever I go, whenever we are apart. “Give me what I want, Prickles.”
He wants my orgasm. He wants the sweetly painful clench of my pussy around his monster cock.
He wants my pleasure more than his own. I whine beneath him, my body hot, my skin buzzing.
He’s insatiable tonight. Every room. Every position.
I’ve swallowed his cum, I’ve painted it into my skin, and it’s still leaking from my asshole.
Now, though, now he wants to fill up my pussy with it and there is nothing I want more than that too.
One mammoth hand slides between my damp skin and the soft sheets, engulfing my breast, kneading the flesh, plucking my nipple.
He lifts up, cold air ghosting across my back and I whimper in distress.
I don’t want him to move; he’s already too far from me.
He shushes me, his other hand wrapping around my hip and pushing down forcing my back to arch further.
“Fuck!” I cry out as he surges deeper, slamming into something inside me that has me seeing stars. “Yes!”
“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Give me what I want! Cum all over my fat cock. Take me with you.”
“It hurts.” It does, but in the best way possible.
“I know. I think it’s your cervix. I’ve never felt anything so tight in all my life.
Not even your pretty pink asshole.” How I can blush after everything we’ve done is a mystery to me.
He has done things to my body I’ve only ever read about.
The places he’s had his mouth would make a Vegas hooker blush.
Andres’ hand teases my nipple once more then glides down my body to my lower tummy.
He pushes against it and growls appreciatively.
“Fuck, I can feel my cock. Jesus Christ!” My hips are slammed down to the bed, he shifts behind me, and I scream as he pile drives into me.
He’s like an animal, feral and raw and I’m here for it all.
“Andres! I’m—YES!” I convulse beneath him violently.
I think I black out for a few seconds or an hour, who the fuck knows.
All I know is that I feel swollen and battered and so fucking blissed out.
He’s lying on top of me, all of his delicious muscular weight holding me down as I try to fly.
He’s cooing in my ear, rubbing all over my body, his cock twitching inside my swollen channel, filling me with his seed.
I’m a dirty girl. And I love it!
And that dicknotizing fuckery is why I must be some kind of special idiot. My hands shake, my stomach churns, and I’m about 20 seconds from bolting. Andres tightens his arm around my waist, leaning down to whisper against the top of my head, “I’ve got you.”
I glance up at him with a frown. “You got me into this fucking mess.”
He has the balls to fucking laugh. His eyes dance in the low lighting of the ballroom. “You looking fucking edible, Jenna. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Fuckin’ hell.
I was lying there, sexed out of my mind when he starts massaging my arms and legs, kissing all up on me all sweetly.
Promises of wine and a makeover worthy of Pretty Woman , minus the prostitution.
How could I have let myself be talked into this?
The man is too potent for his own good and mine.
Our friends now, our family, and it’s like I gave him an inch, and he gave 9 and then took a fucking mile.
Ravishing gown that accentuates every feminine dip and curve of my body. Backless. Hair styled. Manicure and pedicure. Waxed and polished. Dammit, I feel like a pretty princess! Curse my innate girliness!
“The earliest known evidence of ‘high heels’ is around 3500 BC in Egypt. But it wasn’t until around the 10 th century that higher heels became almost standard for use in horseback riding. Heels were originally designed for men as a status symbol.”
“I ain’t wearing any heels.”
I snicker at Andres’ obvious distaste. “Well, you’re 6’5”, so you don’t really need them. And I don’t think you ride horses very often.”
He pins me with a dark look. “No, but I do ride a certain filly as often as I can.”
“You are a butthead.” I whisper at him indignantly. A charity event is no place for him to say such things to me. Especially since it will be hours before he can do anything about the throbbing between my legs.
I swallow hard, my nerves like hatchet-wielding butterflies in my stomach, my eyes darting around the large open room.
Pittsburgh’s Steel Bridges charity gala is a big fucking deal.
Past teammates, current players, politicians, celebrities, other athletes.
My eyes land on a familiar head of blonde hair and bile rises up my throat.
I put a hand to my mouth, as if that will stem the tide of vomit, and curse under my breath.
“Jenna?” Andres, ever in tune with me, pulls me tighter to the side of his body. He’s tense, his head on a swivel, looking for any perceived threat. If I wasn’t about to spew all over my expensive shoes and his, I’d find it funny and charming.
“I’m sorry. I’m fine.” He carefully guides me to the side, blocking me from everyone’s view. His dark brows slanting harshly in concern.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s stupid…my ex is here. I just…I haven’t seen him in person in years.” About 7 of them, actually. I could have gone a lifetime more without laying eyes on Nick Bakke in the flesh.
I don’t love him; I’m not hung up on him. He’s just a grade A dick.
Andres casually looks over his shoulder, his eyes following my line of sight. He smirks. Not the reaction I was expecting. “Your ex is Nick Bakke?” When he starts laughing, I smack him in the chest. He quickly grabs my palm and holds it over his heart.
“It’s not funny.”
“It is. Jenna, how much do you know about Nick Bakke’s career?”
“Almost nothing. I have tried to avoid his name as much as I can.”
Andres’ eyes soften and he presses closer to me, my back against the cool marble tile of the wall.
“He’s been dropped from three teams since he was drafted.
He’s currently trying to find another team to take him because he’s about to get dropped for the fourth time.
He’s got his sights on Pittsburgh, but none of us are stupid enough to take him on.
” My eyes widen with every word out of his sinful mouth.
“He parties too much, been divorced twice, steep decline in performance, and three paternity suits.”
“Really?” I whisper, my little heart nearly pounding right out of my chest at the thought that Karma really does exist.
“Yeah, baby. You dodged a fucking bullet.”
“Oh.” I let all that information sink in for a moment, then grab Andres’ hand and move around him, tugging him with me. “Well, then, shall we go say hello?” His booming laughter follows me across the ballroom, his grip solid. He’s got me.
“Wicked little thing, aren’t ya?”
“And don’t you forget it.” By the time I’ve reached Nick, Andres is back at my side, his arm around my waist possessively.
It sends a little thrill down my spine, and I chuckle knowing I’m not wearing a bra and my girls are standing proud.
Nick looks over his shoulder, realizing someone has stopped behind him.
He turns back quickly, then does a double take and nearly falls over trying to face Andres.
“Mr. Abbott!” Nick holds out his hand, his expression more eager puppy than professional football player. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. We never got to play against each other before you retired.” Andres glances down at the offered hand, shakes his head and accepts the handshake.
“I’m sorry, you are…?” Nick’s expression is crestfallen, but he rallies quickly.
“Nick Bakke. Before you retired I played for Detroit.”
“I’m not familiar. You didn’t start—”
“No, sir. I was, uh…backup quarterback.”
“I see.”
“It’s just such an honor, Mr. Abbott. I’ve followed your career since the start.”
“Thank you.” Andres replies politely. A little gleam in his eyes as he looks down at me with a bright smile. “Allow me to introduce my fiancé, Jenna Nemac.”
“JENNA?!?” Nick’s eyes finally register that I’m standing next to Andres.
His eyebrows fly up his forehead and his eyes nearly bug right out of his skull.
It’s quite satisfying to watch him run his gaze down my body and back up to my face, especially when he swallows hard lingering on my breasts. “What the fuck?”
I decide to skip over Andres’ use of the term fiancé, and give Nick a kind smile. “Hello, Nick. How are you?”
“You two know one another?” Andres’ is the least innocent man I’ve ever met and yet he pulls it off well enough to fool Nick.
Boy always was stupid. He’s going toe-to-toe with a shark and doesn’t even know he’s in any danger.
My pussy gushes, my eyes taking in my man in all his glory.
Tall, dark and handsome doesn’t even cover Andres Abbott.
And he’s all fucking mine. And all that is great, but it’s his heart that keeps me coming back for more.
“We dated years ago.” I wave my hand, my tone insinuating it was something casual.
“We dated for 7 years, Jenna.”
“Oh, that long?”
Andres smirks at me, then turns to Nick.
“Then you know how wonderful my fiancé is. Jenna’s the head cheering coach at State.
Several high schools and smaller schools send their staff to train under Jenna.
” How does he know that? “She’s so wicked smart.
Well, you know what I’m talking about. Nothing sexier than a woman with brains.
The faculty love her, her students worship her, and I’m a little obsessed, if you can’t tell.
” Andres leans in toward Nick, who’s looking a little green right now, and whispers, “Not to mention flexible and limber. Keeps an old man like me young.”
I smack him with the back of my hand, but I’m not mad.
I might very well vibrate right out of my skin with how fucking happy I am right now.
Vindictive, mean-spirited, catty. Don’t give a fuck, my man is serving a little comeuppance to the demons of my past and I have never been more attracted to him than I am right now.
“Stop it, baby.” I curl into his side and run my hand up and down his toned abdomen and over his chest. “You’re making me blush. You’re in better shape than men 10 years your junior.” I look pointedly at Nick.
“Sorry, Prickles.” Andres kisses me right there in front of Nick and God and it takes considerable effort to pull back once I remember we’re in public.
“You’re my favorite topic of discussion.
” He looks at Nick, his friendly demeanor slipping slightly.
“Can’t imagine why you’d let her go, but I’m sure thankful you did, Nate. ”
“Nick, sir.” I bite my lip and stare at my shoes or I’m gonna start laughing.
“Uh, I’m glad I ran into you, Mr. Abbott.
I think I would make an excellent addition to the Pittsburgh roster.
” Andres stares Nick right in the eye and I take great joy in watching my ex squirm under the dark stare.
He’s all soft and gooey with me, but Andres is a hard motherfucker on the field and at work.
Andres sighs. “I know who you are now, and I don’t think you would.
We value passion, dedication, and loyalty…
and if I remember correctly, you stated that you wouldn’t be caught dead playing in a used up steel town like Pittsburgh.
You were destined for somewhere big, bright, shiny, and new.
” Andres sniffs like he’s smelled something rotten.
“Well, you were. Now I imagine you’re destined for a fourth paternity suit and the unemployment line.
Good luck, kid.” He points over Nick’s shoulder.
“I see someone brighter and shinier than you I’d like Jenna to meet. ”
I almost feel bad for Nick. Like maybe 2%. I don’t necessarily wish him ill-will, but I think I’m rather satisfied with that proverbial bitch-slap Karma just delivered via my man.
Hand on my back, Andres guides me away from Nick toward the bar. We find a few of his previous teammates and join in a rousing conversation about whose joints hurt worse. I laugh, smile, and lean into Andres, reveling in how wonderful my life is since he’s blitzed his way into it.
During a break in conversation, I tug on Andres’ arm and he grins down at me. “You are my beautiful dream come true. I love you.”
He throws his arms wide, tosses his head back and yells, “About fucking time!” Then his lips are on mine and I’m bent backward as everyone around us cheers and laughs. He pulls back slightly, his eyes darting between mine and my lips. “I love you, too.”