Chapter 7
ZEB
I didn’t know there was a better feeling than having a ball I threw end up in the hands of my teammate for him to run into the endzone for the winning touchdown.
There was.
Finding my girl in my sweatshirt outside the locker room waiting for me.
She was there for me. Today, her hair was long down her back. It was thick and seemed to be naturally wavy, and I wanted to wrap it around my fist and hold onto it while I kissed her. While I fucked her from behind.
So many things I wanted to do to her. With her, my balls were aching something fierce.
This girl, I’d marked her as mine. Probably any person who saw her wearing the sweatshirt knew that I’d claimed her.
Except Cammie herself.
As we walked to my house–which was only a block from the stadium–I held her hand. We didn’t talk because we were in a sea of fans leaving the stadium. I got high fives, back slaps, and all kinds of congrats as we went, not allowing for any time for Cammie and I to chat.
But as soon as I got to the house and shut the front door, she was mine and mine alone.
After coach’s post-game talk, I’d hustled through my shower to get to her. Nick had been right behind me, but hung back and waited for Sean and Eli, giving me time alone in the house with my girl.
I led her up the stairs and into my room, shutting the door and–finally–getting her all to myself.
“What did you think of the game?” I asked.
She was looking around my space, walking in a slow circle, running her fingers over my things.
My dick throbbed, wanting her fingers to run over it, too.
My desk, my pile of textbooks, my comforter.
The room wasn’t exciting, but definitely better than a dorm.
I had privacy and a bigger bed. Freshman year sucked being my size and fitting on such a narrow mattress.
I was neat to begin with, but I’d picked up, hoping for this moment. My laundry was in the hamper, not tossed near it. I’d changed my sheets. Dishes from the kitchen from hastily eaten meals were back downstairs in the dishwasher.
She finally turned back to face me. Pushed her glasses up. “It was insane. The crowd was so into it.”
I gave a little head shake. “I don’t care about the crowd. Were you into it?”
She bit her lip and looked up at me through her lashes. It was a coy look for most girls, but for Cammie, it came across as shyness. “I was into watching you,” she admitted.
Yeah, that went right to my dick.
“I was hoping you were there.” I took a step closer, not able to take another second of being away from her. “In my sweatshirt.”
Her gaze flicked away. “Rose says it means you’re interested in me.”
Reaching out, I took her hand and tugged her into me. She gasped and pressed against me. She was so small there was no doubt she felt my hard dick against her belly.
“I said it the other night in a text, but it seems I need to show you.” Cupping her face and brushing her hair back, I tipped it up so our eyes met. “Can I kiss you?”
Her tongue flicked out as she nodded.
Thank fuck.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the second I saw you from across the library,” I admitted. “By the way, my genetics professor posted the midterm grades. I got a ninety-three, thanks to you. You’re my good luck charm.”
Then I kissed her. Her lips were soft and pliant. A little gasp escaped and I took advantage, my tongue flicking out and finding hers. I wanted to be gentle with her, to savor the sweetness of our first kiss, but I needed her too much. I wanted to devour her and she seemed to be just as needy.
Her hands gripped the front of my shirt and held on tight.
I angled her head how I wanted to take the kiss deeper.
She was sweet and warm and soft. I walked us toward my bed until the backs of her legs bumped the side. She fell on her butt, breaking the kiss.
I looked down at her upturned face. Red lips, swollen from our first kiss. Pink cheeks, arousal in her blue gaze. Her glasses were askew.
“I love you wearing my sweatshirt, but I need to see you.”
Reaching down, I curled my fingers around the bottom. She lifted up to get it from beneath her, then raised her arms so I could tug it off.
The motion took her glasses, too. “Need these, sweetheart?”
“No,” she whispered.
Carefully, I set them on my bedside table next to my clock and reading lamp.
She was in a pink, white, and gray plaid flannel. Girl sized so it fit her tiny frame. The buttons were open halfway down to show a little white camisole beneath. Jeans and low boots finished her game day outfit.
I dropped to my knees before her so we could be eye level.
I needed her so fucking bad, she was like a drug. I needed a hit.
Having seven older brothers–yeah, fucking seven of them–I’d learned a lot about how to treat women.
How to treat the one I was going to marry.
I’d heard all about their sexual exploits over the years.
I knew about sex and boobs and orgasms at a younger age than I probably should have.
They didn’t give me lessons, hell no, but they’d told me to always wrap it.
Always. Going bare was for the woman you were gonna marry.
Pops spoke about how he’d found Ma at a wedding and he’d pretty much danced with her and fell for her. They were married not long after.
I wanted that. The real thing. Not sticking my dick in a willing woman just because I was horny. I knew what sex was. Fuck, my roommates watched a shit ton of porn. I just knew, unlike my older brothers, that I wanted to wait for The One.
I’d fooled around, but knew early on that it wouldn’t lead to anything real. It hadn’t meant anything, so it wasn’t worth it.
Was my dick pissed not getting any? Was it tired of my hand? Fuck, yes.
But now? With Trig, Bray, Colt, and Cam finding and marrying their one true love, I saw the other side. Life with the person you were supposed to be with. It made me want to keep waiting.
Now, I found her. Cammie. Holy hell, was I glad I held off.
Me. The quarterback of the football team. The guy everyone wanted to be friends with.
A virgin.