Chapter 26
TOUCHDOWN (TD) – BALL CROSSES INTO THE OPPONENT'S END ZONE.
Tension fills our drive back to the villa. The second we made it back to the car, Troy reversed so fast, I was wondering if there was a problem.
That is, until Troy took my free hand and laid it on his thigh.
Now, I understand what’s driving him as it’s the same intensity inside of me.
I feel the strain pressing against his pants. Part of me wants to snark to diffuse the tension. Something like, at least it wasn’t his important third leg that was injured by that bad tackle, but every time my gaze wanders in his direction, I note the way his jaw is clenched and withhold my words.
Now isn’t the time for jokes, nor the past. It’s edging into something more. Something just for us.
I try to edge my hand away when he presses his down on top of it.
Hard.
If the gritty tone of his voice was anything to go by, Troy is feeling the sexual tension between us as strongly as I am. “I need you to be touching some part of me, Maya.” His eyes drift over to mine in the twilight for a brief second. “Don’t let me go.”
“I won’t,” I whisper.
When he drops the gear, I trace my finger along the seam of his pants, feeling his muscles bunch beneath. He let out a growl causing my lips to curve into a brief smile. “I’m going to make you pay for that.”
All too soon, after a drive that felt too long as anticipation suffocates us, I let out a relieved sigh as I spy the castle ahead. When he takes the turn onto the villa drive, spreading gravel everywhere. I let out a carefree laugh. “It’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors.”
Lifting my hand from his thigh, he presses it to his lips before laying it higher on his thigh. Now I can feel the firm outline of his cock. “I wouldn’t care. Not with the condition I’m in, uvetta mia.”
I drag the palm of my hand firmly up and can’t control the words that come out of my mouth. “How did you find a jockstrap to hold this beast back?”
Fortunately, I say this just as Troy has slammed the car into park in front of the villa.
Within seconds, Troy unbuckles us both before hauling me over the center console to ravage my mouth with a kiss so intense, I groan in protest when he lets me up for air.
He flings open his car door and slides me off his lap.
After he makes sure I’m balanced, he rises from the vehicle. He steps away long enough to slam the door before pulling my body tight against his. I slide my hands up his chest, letting the need, the want, coalesce inside of me until I can’t think about anything else.
That is until Troy speaks. “I don’t care about my cup size, but I sure as hell want to learn more about yours.”
Laughter causes me to stumble hard. Wheezing, I manage, “I can’t let go because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll fall flat on my ass.”
“Well, we can’t have that; can we?” With that, Troy bends down and scoops me up in his arms.
I squeal, “Don’t blow out your knee! I have plans for it.”
He smirks. “Just one?”
“Well, it’s easier for you to be on two…stop distracting me! Don’t hurt yourself,” I protest as he strides confidently to the front door. After opening it and then slamming it shut behind us, Troy carries me down the hallway toward his rooms at a fast pace.
Seconds later, I couldn’t tell you what my middle name is because Troy backs me up against one of the plaster walls and wraps my legs around his waist. His fingers have lifted my sweater away from my jeans and are playing with the skin of my midriff. My head falls backward, and I plead, “Touch me.”
His eyes promise me he will, but before he does, “I want you to know how much I want you.” Then he rolls his hips forward, ensuring every inch of his cock rubs against the seam of my jeans that’s pushing against my clit.
I yank his head down and bury the fingers of one hand into his dark hair. The other drags up his pec until I find his nipple. Once I home in on it, I tweak it between my finger and thumb.
Troy’s breath is ragged. “We need to find my bed.”
I agree. “Any bed.”
The incendiary look he aims at me should fry my clothes away. “My bed.”
“Caveman much?”
He boosts my legs higher, forcing me to wrap my legs tighter around his hips when he walks.
That’s when he takes a sledgehammer to the walls I built around my heart.
“The first time I take you, I want you spread naked across my sheets so I remember it on those long lonely nights when you’re traveling without me. ”
I bury my head in the space between his neck and shoulder and just breathe. Inhaling deeply, I moan, “I want you. I want every part of you to touch every part of me.”
Troy answers me without words. Dropping me onto his bed, he whips my shirt off over my head. Then he lets out a long sigh as he traces his fingers over the edge of my silk bra before cupping the heavy weight of my breast. With each pass, he lowers the restraining fabric until my nipple pops out.
That’s when his lips make contact. I can only plead, “More.”
Fortunately, Troy is superb at following the plays.
He flicks his tongue against my nipple even as he rolls the other bud into an anticipatory tightness.
He flicks open the front clasp of my bra, spreading the cups apart.
For long moments–eternity, in my aroused state–he stares down at me before murmuring, “You’re beautiful. ”
Then, without warning, he leans down and opens his lips before sucking the whole areola into his mouth.
My hips levitate off the bed. “Oh, God.”
“Feels good?”
“Could be better.” I spread my hands wide and feel the warmth of his duvet beneath my fingers. Coming out of the sensual fog he’s punted me into, I demand, “I want to touch you.”
Troy immediately reaches behind him and yanks off his shirt with that one arm move that makes men ten times sexier yet only leave women practicing a game of Twister–the clothing edition.
I find my heart melting when, instead of being a text book Lothario, Troy curses as his arms get stuck.
While he fights with the buttons of his cuffs, I explore the expanse of his skin and drag my fingers down to his waistband.
Finally freed, he rests his body on mine. “Are you okay with this?”
Am I okay? It doesn’t take long for me to conclude that, “I’m so much better than that.”
He rubs his chest back and forth over my nipples as he presses light kisses to my face.
I moan. “Don’t stop. Feels so good.”
Of course he stops. Then again, I have nothing to complain about when he kisses down the center of my body. I’m writhing in his arms as he unfastens my jeans before yanking off my shoes. I send up a silent prayer, Please tell me I put on cute panties.
That’s when I realize God has forsaken me. “They’re adorable. Purple lace.”
“No, no, no, no! That was supposed to be my inside voice!” I yell at the sky.
Two seconds later, I can’t remember what I was so upset about when after Troy drags my jeans, panties, and socks off, he stands and does the quickest strip tease known to man and I come face to face with what’s been hiding in his pants.
I can’t take my eyes off it. Licking my lips, I wonder, “Do you still wear a cup so you’re not accosted on the street?”
Troy falls next to me on the bed, laughing hysterically. He drags me on top of him so he can play with my breasts. Sitting up, he takes a nipple in his mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re worried.”
I reach behind me and stroke it. Troy moans. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last.”
“It might fit then.”
“It’s going to fit, anyway.”
“You hope.”
He rolls his eyes before dumping me on my back and getting on his knees. Pressing my legs out, he drags his fingers through my wetness before rubbing them over my clit. My hips arch toward his touch before he slides his fingers inside of me just as he sucks my clit into his mouth.
My head falls back. Troy destroys me with a touch that should make any ballplayer—past and present—jealous. “Troy” is all I can manage.
He pulls his mouth away, even as his fingers are still pressed deep inside of me. The dual assault had me ready to detonate, so I want to weep when I’m denied completion. “What do you want, uvetta mia?”
On the verge of begging, I whisper a single word. “You.” I hold his eyes when I reach up and tweak my nipples. I know he can feel my thighs quivering—that’s how close I am.
Blind with his own lust, Troy slowly removes his fingers from my center before reaching over to the nightstand drawer. Yanking it open, he fishes out a condom, tearing the package open with his teeth. Making quick work of rolling it on, he crawls between my legs.
As he prowls up my body, his cock nestles in between my folds—long and thick.
He reaches down and aligns the tip against my weeping hole, preparing us both for him to slide inside.
While he does this, he kisses my lips. Soft, fragile kisses that contradict the almost obscene way his dick is taunting me.
Sliding my hands up, I lace my fingers with his. “Take me.”
He nudges his cock in partway. My core immediately clamps down, even as we both cry out. I shiver as he maintains his position before he bends his dark head over mine, thinking he’s going to kiss me.
What he does is so much more intense.
“I’ll never just take you. This—what we’re about to do—is so much more.”
That’s when he pulls back and, with a few slow, coaxing nudges, lodges himself fully into my pussy, slowly moving his hips in and out. There’s nothing that can feel better than this, I think.
That is, until he releases one of my hands and his wicked hand slides down my body, over my hip, until his fingers find my protruding clit. He thrums it in time to his thrusts.
As the pace intensifies, we devolve to grunts and breathless gasps. Finally, after showing me I’m worth more—we’re more—Troy flings us over the ledge.
As he collapses on the bed next to me, he reaches for my hand—still connecting us by holding my hand.
I thought letting someone close again would feel like losing control.
Instead, it feels like exhaling after holding my breath for too long.
What happened between us doesn’t feel wrong.
It feels predestined. As if all the pain we both went through—him physically and me emotionally—brought us to exactly where we’re supposed to be.
With each other.
Understanding I was with the wrong man out of convenience instead of emotion.
It’s deep thoughts for having just had my mind blown.
Troy presses a kiss against my shoulder. Sleepily, he murmurs, voice rough, “How are you awake?”
“I’m afraid to go to sleep,” I admit.
Troy rolls over so he can see my face. “Why?”
“Because if I do, I’m afraid I’ll wake up and tonight will have been a dream,” I confess.
Troy raises up on an elbow and hooks an arm around my body, so he’s looming over me. “Then tomorrow, we’ll make a whole new dream.”
He brushes his lips against mine before smiling down at me. Cupping his cheeks, I realize we can take our time building whatever this is.
Dreams can be that simple.
But simple dreams went away when men built a computer in their parent’s garage. In the world of electronics, time is a luxury that doesn’t last.
It’s not a question of if; it’s a question of when.