Charlotte #2
“You’re right. I’m going to go with the flow and see what happens.
No need to narrow down any of my options.
We cuddle and fall asleep? Great. We build a pillow wall?
Totally fine. Though I’m almost certainly knocking it over in my sleep and still cuddling.
We fuck like bunnies until the sun comes up?
Fantastic. Well, for me at least. Probably not good for him.
I was today years old when I learned how important hydration is to professional athletes while traveling.
Do you know how many different varieties of electrolyte drinks there are? ”
“Like Gatorade?”
“Oh, Addie. Sit your ass down, you have so much to— Oh shit! He’s back. Love you, bye!”
I frantically click the red button on the screen as the door to our room opens.
“Whadup?” It slips out of my mouth.
Callan’s eyebrows draw together as he looks at me, and I realize I’m hiding my phone behind my back. “Not much. What’ve you been up to?” He says it slowly, like he’s not sure he wants to know what I’ve been up to.
“I was talking to Addie. I might’ve been freaking out a little bit about us being assigned to the same room. Not because of the room per se, but after last night to then get assigned to the same room, it’s like we’ve somehow pissed off our normally benevolent overlord.”
Callan sits down heavily at the end of the bed, running his hands through his hair. “I can go ask for a new room. I’m the starting quarterback; no one will question it if I say I can’t sleep in a hotel room with you the day before a game. We’re notoriously divas.”
“No!” I shake my head. “No. You don’t have to do that. I’m not actually worried about it, I’m just not sure what it means for us to be sleeping in the same bed.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me to stand between his legs. Tilting his head so our gazes meet, he says, “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“I don’t think I’m a ‘relationship girl,’” I confess.
He runs his hand down my arm. “I know I’m not a ‘relationship guy.’ At least, not at this point in my life.”
I gnaw on my lower lip, trying to keep the other part of this in. “But I also want to sleep with you.”
He nods slowly. “Sleep with me, or sleep with me.”
“Both?”
He reaches up and boops the end of my nose. “You look cute when you scrunch your nose like that.”
“I have a cute nose.”
Callan stands, his size staggering against mine. But instead of feeling intimidated, I feel calm. Protected.
“What if I want to sleep with you, too?” His voice is husky as he asks the question.
“What kind of sleep?”
His deep green eyes meet mine. “Both.”
He lowers his head slowly until his mouth is millimeters from mine. “You good with that, Princess?”
“Yes.” It comes out as a breathy whisper before being swallowed by Callan’s mouth moving over mine.
I melt into his kiss, opening for him as his tongue licks against my lips.
A sigh I can’t contain escapes as he pulls me against him, bending his head to make up for the height difference.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer before dropping one hand to his pants, grateful for the stretchy waist as I’m able to slip my fingers easily past the elastic.
My palm brushes against the hard length of him, and he groans.
Holy shit. He’s big. Impressively so.
His hands find the bottom of my blouse and tug upward, quickly relieving me of my shirt. With a deft flick of his fingers, my bra follows quickly after.
Pupils blown wide, he gazes down at me, taking in the naked expanse of my chest. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
I nip at his lip, my hand lightly stroking his cock. “It’s not fair you’ve seen me without a shirt two days in a row, and I still haven’t seen you.”
“You see me without a shirt all the time,” he teases, but reaches behind his head to pull off the black polo the players are required to wear anyway. The movement makes his biceps bunch, and I watch the muscles tighten and dance with rapt attention.
After sliding my hand from his pants, I reach down, unbuttoning the top of my slacks, my gaze never leaving his. They drop to the floor, and I kick them away.
His eyes devour me, my thong the only thing impeding his view. “Holy shit, Princess. How did I get this lucky?”
The way he says it feels like he would choose me, over and over, even if he could choose from every single woman in the world. I know it’s not true, but maybe I want it to be.
Needing to see all of him, I grip the waistband of his pants and pull them down, leaving him standing in only a pair of black boxer briefs, his pants caught around his ankles by his shoes.
Biting my lower lip, I stare at the way his droolworthy core seems to point directly to the thick bulge. “I think I might be the lucky one.”
He presses a light kiss to my lips before licking and sucking his way down the column of my neck, as the heat builds inside of me with each new area of skin he comes in contact with.
Then, he sits back on the bed, taking off his shoes before throwing his pants to the side.
“You said you like cowgirl, right?” He moves his weight onto his elbows. “Well, ride me, Princess.”
“Is that how you think this is going to go, Callan Devine? That you’re in charge?” I slowly move toward him, and his eyes track me every inch of the way. “I thought after last night that you were going to be more… giving.”
He slowly shakes his head, and I can’t help but laugh as I place a knee on either side of his legs. This. The control is a heady rush. Knowing I could make this big, strong man, who is used to getting his way, do exactly what I want.
Not that he wouldn’t, anyway.
Shoving that thought aside, I drop to my hands and knees and slowly prowl toward him. His gaze slips from my face, fully focused on my breasts as I move.
“I’ll give you anything,” he mumbles, gaze still focused on my chest as I stop, my face inches away from his.
My body is practically whimpering with need. Need to be touched. To be kissed. To be fucked. To be claimed by Callan. “Then kiss me,” I demand.
His mouth meets mine in a burning merger of lips and teeth and tongue.
I sigh, the excitement of the moment coating my skin, bringing every nerve ending to attention.
Unlike the men I’ve been with recently, Callan doesn’t rush this part, doesn’t try to move us to the inevitable ending we’re both chasing.
Instead, he’s in the moment, lifting one hand to wrap around the back of my neck, the other still behind him, propping him up.
I break the kiss and push him, forcing him to lie down completely.
Unable to resist any longer, I slowly lower myself so I’m aligned with Callan’s bulge, my body begging for the friction his cock promises to deliver.
Sitting on top of him, I tentatively rub against his length, and we both let out small moans.
Fuck. That feels good.
Not caring that we’re both still in our underwear, I move my hips again, riding his ridge to the very tip and then back down.
I want to tell him how good it feels. How wet it makes me. How fucking huge he is, but I bite down on my lower lip instead, counting the muscles in his abdomen as they shift and flex beneath me. Those deep lines over his hips direct me to exactly where I want to be.
Callan’s large palms encircle my hips, helping me keep the rhythm my body so desperately wants. “Just like that, Princess. That’s so good.”
I can barely see the green in his eyes; the pupils having been blown to absolute perfection.
Moving my hips in a slow circle, I chase the pleasure coursing through my skin, throwing my head back as his tip nudges my clit in the most exquisitely potent of ways.
“That’s it, Princess. Right there,” Callan praises as I continue to ride him, one hand trailing from my hip to the underside of my breast. I change the angle, dropping my hands to his shoulders, and we both groan.
I trace the strong lines of his chest, pausing to flick a thumb over his nipple. He hisses before doing the same to me.
I’m so close, the almost painful point where the pleasure pushes against the bounds of my body. I lean down and bite his shoulder, willing the words to stay inside me as I rock against him.
Callan stops his exploration of my breasts and moves both hands to my hips. He pushes me faster, dragging me harder against him with each stroke. My eyes fall shut as the darkness closes in on me, my brain limiting my sight to everything except him. Callan.
“Come for me, Princess,” he demands, his voice low, and I have no choice but to follow his command.
My mind shatters, my body becoming nothing but sensation—pleasure. I bite down hard on my lip to keep it all from escaping as a scream. The strength in my arms gives out, and I fall onto his chest as my body continues to clench around the emptiness.
There’s a hand stroking my hair as I come back from the mindless euphoria, my face plastered against Callan’s strong, warm chest. I nuzzle against him, the coarse hairs on his pecs tickling my flushed cheeks.
“Give me a second,” I mumble, reminding myself that I’m currently the selfish one in this relationship, having gotten off multiple times now while he hasn’t once. “I promise, I will get you off. We can do it however you want after this.”
Callan clears his throat. “Um, you already did.”
I lift myself slightly, meeting his gaze before turning my attention to his dick. There, at the top of a long line of wetness that I can only assume came from me, is a large, damp circle.
Chuckling softly, I drop my head back to his chest. “Excellent. Then I can have a few more seconds before we go again.”
“It’s not… I don’t usually… That’s not normal for me.” Callan sounds embarrassed. “I haven’t come from dry humping since I was…” His eyes scan the space between us like he’s really trying to figure out the last time it happened.
I tentatively stroke his cheek. “I don’t think we can consider it ‘dry humping’ at this point. And I also came that way. Why would it embarrass you?”