His Cheerleader #2
By the time she finished locking the equipment shed on the lower level of the stadium complex, the crowds had dispersed, leaving the concrete hallways echoing and empty.
The storm that had been threatening all night finally broke, a sudden, violent downpour lashing against the stadium structure.
Lara grabbed her duffel bag and hurried down the dimly lit hallway toward the exit, hoping to catch a ride before she got completely soaked.
She rounded a corner near the back of the varsity weight room when the overhead lights suddenly flickered and died.
A heavy, metallic clunk echoed through the corridor as the automated security doors at both ends of the hall snapped shut—a standard storm-protocol lockdown.
"Great. Fantastic," Lara muttered, pulling out her phone. She looked at the screen, only to find a big fat No Service icon staring back at her. The concrete walls of the stadium basement were notorious for killing cell reception.
"Looking for a signal, Lara?"
Lara jumped, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as she whirled around. Out of the shadows of the weight room doorway stepped a massive figure.
Carson.
He had changed out of his pads into a pair of loose gray sweatpants and a tight black sleeveless shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide the terrifying expanse of his chest and arms.
His dark hair was still damp from the showers, smelling intensely of soap and his signature woodsy cologne.
He was holding a protein shaker, looking entirely unbothered by the fact that they were locked in a concrete bunker together.
"What are you doing here?" Lara demanded, her voice defensive as she took a step back, her back hitting the cold concrete wall.
"Late night lift," Carson said, his deep voice echoing in the enclosed hallway.
He set his shaker down on a nearby ledge and began walking toward her.
His movements were slow, predatory, and completely deliberate.
"The storm knocked the secondary generator out. We're stuck until security manually resets the grid from upstairs."
"Fine. I'll just wait by the exit," Lara said, trying to brush past him.
She didn't even make it one step. Carson shifted his massive body, completely cutting off her path.
He didn't touch her, but his sheer size was like a wall.
He leaned forward, placing one heavy, calloused hand against the concrete wall right next to her head, trapping her completely in his shadow.
The temperature between them spiked instantly, the air turning thick and suffocatingly hot.
"Why are you always running away from me, Lara?"
Carson murmured, his dark eyes raking over her face, capturing the frantic rise and fall of her chest.
He was standing so close his thighs were practically brushing against her bare legs.
"You were brave enough when you were staring at me from the sidelines during the third quarter."
"I wasn't staring at you," she lied, her voice trembling slightly. Her heart was beating so hard she was certain he could feel the vibrations against his chest. "I was watching the play."
"Liar," Carson rasped. He leaned lower, his jawline mere inches from hers.
The obsession in his eyes was terrifying, burning with a fierce, unstable hunger.
He had been thinking about her all through the game, every hit he delivered fueled by the maddening urge to get back to her.
"You watch me because you can't help it. Just like I watch you. I see the way your little skirt bounces when you jump. I see how tight your little shorts are. It's driving me fucking insane, Lara."
Lara's breath hitched, a heavy, deep ache blooming in her pussy at his raw words. She wanted to scream at him, to push him away, but her body was completely paralyzing itself under his dominant gaze. "Carson, back off. You're being creepy."
"I'm not being creepy, I'm being honest," he growled, his gaze dropping to her pink lips.
His dick was already rock hard inside his sweatpants, a thick, rigid shape pressing visibly against the fabric.
He didn't care if she saw it; he wanted her to know exactly what she did to him.
"I'm obsessed with you. I think about how loud you'd scream if I threw you over one of these weight benches and ripped those clothes off you. I think about burying my face in your pussy until you're begging me to stop."
"Shut up," Lara whispered, her cheeks burning so hot she felt dizzy. She was blushing furiously, a mix of pure shock and a sudden, overpowering wave of horniness making her knees weak. Her clit was pulsing against her underwear, completely wet. "You're disgusting."
"I want you," Carson corrected smoothly, his voice dropping into a rough whisper as he tilted his head, his lips brushing the soft skin of her jawline.
He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of her sweat and fruit shampoo.
"And so are you. Your heart is going a mile a minute, Lara. You hate me so much, but your body wants me to fuck you. Tell me I'm wrong."
Lara swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag so tight her knuckles turned white. She looked up into his dark, fierce eyes, her fierce pride fighting against the intoxicating weight of his possessiveness.
"You're wrong," she choked out, trying to keep her voice steady. "I would never let a fuckboy like you touch me."
Carson’s smirk returned, slow and dangerous. He didn't back down; instead, he leaned in even closer, his heavy chest pressing lightly against her breasts, forcing a soft gasp from her lips.
"We'll see about that, Lara," he whispered against her skin. "The night is young, and we aren't going anywhere."
The concrete hallway seemed to shrink, the silence between them heavy, thick, and broken only by the ragged sound of Lara’s breathing.
Carson didn't move an inch. He remained pinned against her, his heavy chest keeping her trapped against the cold wall while his hand stayed firmly planted by her head.
The contrast between his burning, radiating heat and the chilly concrete was driving Lara out of her mind.
"Say it again," Carson commanded, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that rattled straight through her core. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me."
Lara tilted her chin up, her fierce blue eyes flashing with defiance even as her body betrayed her. "I don’t want you, Carson. You’re an arrogant, self absorbed prick who thinks…"
Carson didn’t let her finish. The agonizing tension that had been building between them for three long years finally snapped like a high voltage wire.
He lunged forward, his massive hand moving from the wall to grip the back of her neck, his fingers burying deep into her high ponytail. He pulled her face up and slammed his lips down onto hers in a brutal, possessive kiss.
Lara let out a sharp gasp against his mouth, and Carson instantly took advantage, shoving his tongue deep inside her sweetness.
It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was a declaration of war.
It was dominant, hungry, and fueled by years of pure, unadulterated obsession.
He tasted like mint and raw male aggression, his tongue sweeping through her mouth, claiming every single inch of her.
For a split second, Lara’s brain screamed at her to fight back.
She brought her small fists up, slamming them against his boulder like shoulders.
But it was like trying to punch a brick wall.
Carson didn't even flinch. Instead, he groaned into her mouth, a deep, primal sound that sent a violent jolt of electricity straight down to her clit.
The resistance crumbled instantly.
Lara’s hands uncurled, her fingers sliding up his thick, muscular neck to grip his damp hair.
She kissed him back with a fierce, desperate hunger that matched his own.
She whimpered into his mouth, her tongue tangling with his as she completely surrendered to the overwhelming rush of desire.
She hated him, god she hated him, but the way he was holding her—like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world—was making her entire body go liquid.
"Fucking finally," Carson growled against her lips, breaking the kiss for a fraction of a second only to devour her mouth again.
He lifted her up effortlessly, his hands sliding down to grip the dangerous curves of her hips.
Lara wrapped her legs around his thick waist instinctively, her fitted cheer skirt riding up past her hips.
He pressed her body flat against the concrete wall, hoisting her higher so he could bury his face in her neck.
His sharp jaw and heavy stubble scraped against her sensitive skin, making her arch her back and scream out a breathless gasp.
"Carson... oh god, Carson," she whimpered, her fingers digging into his traps.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Carson panted, his voice completely wrecked.
He was entirely possessed by her, his hands squeezing her soft ass cheeks through her tight boy short underwear.
He rubbed his groin aggressively against her, and Lara let out a loud sob as his rock hard, thick dick pressed perfectly against her soaking wet pussy.
Even through their clothes, the friction was blinding.
"You have no idea what you do to me. I'm so fucking horny for you, Lara. I've been losing my mind over you."
He moved his hand up, sliding it underneath the hem of her tight cheer top.
His calloused fingers brushed against her flat stomach, making her muscles ripple, before moving higher to cup her bare breast.
He groaned, finding her nipple already completely hard and erect.
He pinched the sensitive peak through the lace of her bra, and Lara’s head tossed back against the concrete wall, her eyes rolling back as a heavy drop of pre-cum leaked through his sweatpants and her own natural wetness completely soaked through her panties.
"Please," Lara cried out, completely shameless now, her fierce pride entirely incinerated by the heat of his touch. She unbuttoned the top of his sleeveless shirt, her small hands sliding over his massive, trembling chest muscles. "Carson, please..."