Beauty and the Running Back (6 page)

With renewed energy, I swing my leg around and position
myself between his legs. I tug down his red briefs, marveling as his cock
springs free and stands at attention before me. Dean kicks off his briefs,
lying beneath me with his hands planted on my hips. Carefully, I straddle him
on my bed, my body quivering with anticipation.

“Hold on,” he murmurs, reaching over the side of the bed for
his jeans. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom.

“I like a man who comes prepared,” I smile eagerly.

Dean rolls onto his back, ripping open the condom with his
teeth. Daringly, I let the tip of his cock brush against my slick pussy. Dean
groans at the sensation, his eyes screwing up tight.

“You trying to kill me, Cahill?” he growls.

“Maybe a little,” I admit, lifting myself away from his
cock.

“Well. It’s working,” he grins, pinching the air out of the
tip of the condom.

I watch with bated breath as he brings the rubber to his
cock. I can’t believe this is finally happening. Any trepidation I thought I
might feel is nowhere to be found, now. The only thing I’m feeling is ready.
So, so ready.

Just as Dean is about to roll the condom down his shaft,
though, something catches my eye outside the bedroom window. Cold panic rips a
hole straight through me as I watch my parents’ car swing into the driveway.

“Holy shit,” I cry out, leaping off of Dean and tossing his
briefs into his lap, “Get dressed, hurry!”

“What?” he replies, sitting up in a daze of confusion.

“My parents are back,” I hiss, scrambling into my thong and
shorts.

Like a shot, Dean is up and dressing. We yank our clothes
back on as a key rattles in the lock downstairs. I duck around Dean and
straighten my bed as the front door clatters angrily open. Fully dressed at
last, I smooth down my hair and grab a notebook from the desk. Dean sits in my
desk chair, using a heavy textbook to obscure his erection as someone storms
around downstairs and out into the backyard. A second, softer set of footstep
begins to ascend the stairs as I open up my notebook, pretending to be hard at
work. I glance up at Dean, take a breath, and start to improvise.

“So like I was saying,” I begin, “The symbolism in
The
Scarlet Letter
is actually— Oh, hey Mom.”

“Hey you two,” my mom says, appearing in my bedroom doorway,
“Sorry to barge back in so early. I just came down with the worst headache.”

I observe my mother, noting her vacant eyes and slightly
rattled smile. I’ve never known her to get headaches. Especially not the sort
that could keep my dad from a public event. Now that my panic is subsiding, I
wonder about the slamming front door, the storming through the house just now.
What has him so angry this time?

“It’s all good,” I say to Mom, “We’re just studying up here,
so…”

For a second, I worry that my mom is going to press us on
what, exactly, we’ve been up to in my bedroom. Her eyes flicker between me and
Dean, just on the edge of being onto us. But I can tell that she doesn’t have
the energy for suspicion right now. Not after whatever just went down with my
dad.

“If you guys don’t need anything, I think I’m just going to
lie down for a bit,” she says, her voice hollow.

“Sure Mom,” I tell her, “Whatever you need.”

Dean and I watch her retreat down the hallway, closing her
bedroom door gently behind her. At last, we lock eyes across the room, amazed
at our near miss and frustrated beyond belief. I notice the condom wrapper
lying on the floor just behind my bedroom door. If Mom had happened to glance
down, she would have seen it as clear as day. This whole thing could have gone
south in a heartbeat if Dean and I weren’t lucky. One thing’s for sure—we’re
going to have to be more careful in the future.

Because there will be a future, mark my words. After what
just went down between us, there’s no way I’m not going to follow through on
going to bed with this incredible man. The only question is,
when
?

“Is your mom OK?” Dean asks quietly, glancing down the
hallway.

“She’ll be fine. I think,” I reply, my brow furrowed. “I’m
sorry you had to be here for this. It’s just… It’s kind of how things go around
here.”

“I had no idea,” he says, shaking his head.

“Guess we don’t know each other quite that well yet,” I
smile softly.

We sit in silence, reflecting on my words. When you’re
caught up in the moment, it’s easy to mistake lust for closeness. But in a lot
of ways, Dean and I are still strangers. Not that there’s anything wrong with
that, it’s just good to be reminded. I may
want
to know him deeply, but
I don’t. Not yet.

“I should probably get going, huh?” Dean asks.

“Probably,” I sigh, “Something tells me that my dad isn’t
going to be in the most hospitable mood.”

Dean gathers his things, and I walk him down to the front
porch. Our house is eerily silent in the fallout from my parents’ fight. God
knows what their squabble was over this time. Part of me wishes that Dean could
stay here and keep me company, but a much larger part doesn’t want to drag him
into the shit show that is my home life.

“I hope you’re not too disappointed,” I say quietly,
standing beside him on the top step.

“Disappointed?” he echoes, shoving a hand through his hair,
“Why would I be disappointed, Jessa?”

“Well. I didn’t exactly get to reciprocate…” I mutter.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says, laying a hand on my arm, “We’ve
got all the time in the world for…reciprocity.”

“Ooh,” I smile, “Someone’s been racking up the SAT words.”

“Yeah, would you look at that,” he grins back, “You must be
a really good tutor—it’s paying off already.”

Our eyes lock, and the urge to kiss is overpowering. But we
can’t risk it. Not here, not now. Instead, Dean gives my hand a light squeeze.

“I’ll see you soon Jessa,” he murmurs.

“Promise?” I ask.

“Promise,” he replies.

He shoves his hands deep in his pockets and walks down the
front steps, heading home for the day. I lean against the pillar holding up
from the front porch, wanting with every fiber in my being to chase after him.
This afternoon was such a tease, for both of us. But I’ve waited this long to
find someone I wanted as much as I want Dean. I guess I can wait a little
longer to have him at last.

Chapter Five

Dean

The first half of Friday’s away game has been rough, to say
the least. After our victory at the home opener, we’ve been lax on the field
tonight. Something that Coach Cahill has no intention of letting us forget.

“What in the name of all that is good and holy are you boys
doing out there?” he demands, as we gather in the locker room during half time.
“You’re disgracing yourselves. You know that?”

“We’ve got to get our heads back in the fucking game,” Royce
puts in, looking around at the team.

“Don’t you interrupt me, son,” Cahill roars at Royce,
“You’re the quarterback, not the coach. And you’ve been a damn lousy
quarterback all night at that.”

Coach isn’t wrong. Royce has been unfocused throughout the
entire first half. I’ve been doing my best to pick up the slack, but there’s
only so much one man can do.

“Crash,” Coach Cahill snaps, looking my way, “I’m gonna be
leaning on you hard in the second half. You up to that?”

“Of course, Coach,” I nod, feeling Royce’s glare swing my
way from across the room. Looks like someone’s pissed that the Coach has a new
favorite. Though to be honest, I don’t have any interest in being this guy’s
prized player after what I saw at his house yesterday. I still don’t know what
exactly went down between him and Mrs. Cahill, but I know what Jessa doesn’t
feel at ease around him. That’s all I need to know to be wary of the guy. But I
can’t let his shitty personality throw me off my game. We need at least one
player to keep his shit together out there, for fuck’s sake.

As we trudge back onto the field after halftime, we’re
greeted by a round of jeers from the opposing team’s fans. We’ve down by seven
points, and the other team’s fans are absolutely loving it. Their smug
satisfaction sets my blood to boiling.

Good. Get angry,
I think to myself,
Someone needs
to light a fire under this team’s ass, and it might as well be you.

“All right boys,” I call out as the offensive line goes to
take the field, “Let’s do this!”

“Hey,” Royce growls, stepping up to me so only I can hear
him, “Cool it with the grandstanding bullshit, OK? You may be Cahill’s pick of
the week, but I’m still the captain.”

“Then why don’t you try acting like it?” I snap back at him,
“So the rest of us don’t have to keep picking up your damn slack.”

“What the hell has gotten into you lately, Crash?” Royce
spits back, “You’d better get that ego in check, or we’re gonna have some
serious problems.”

“You want to talk to me about ego?” I scoff, “That’s fuckin’
rich.”

Just before Royce can step to me, Buck appears between us.

“What the hell is up?” our wide receiver demands, “You two
gonna dance or something? Come on. We have a football game to win.”

Royce and I storm away from each other to take our places on
the field. Not only am I filled with anger and frustration over the game, but
my inner struggle is also run through with longing. The more serious things get
with Jessa, the harder it is to be away from her. She’s not in the stands
tonight—one of her friends had a dance performance or something. And after we
were so suddenly interrupted yesterday, I’m going out of my mind with wanting
her. But there’s nothing I can do about that right here and now. All I can do is
channel my emotions into the game, leave it all on the field, and figure out
the rest after the final whistle blows.

As soon as the second half is under way, I block out
everything except the game that’s unfolding. I throw my body into each and
every play, driving my team forward with all my might. I’m so enveloped, so
consumed by my competitive drive that I barely even register the shifting tide
of the game. When Buck brings in another touchdown, I don’t even let myself
pause to celebrate with the rest of the team. We have work to do.

We’re still down by two in the final quarter. The other team
pulled some special team shit during their last play and left us high and dry.
We need another touchdown to win this thing. Royce goes to confer with the
coach, then trots back into the huddle to give us the scoop. His mouth is a
grim line as he delivers the play.

“All right,” Royce says through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna
fake a hand-off after the snap. Crash, you go right and I’ll pass it to you
once they’re thrown off the scent.”

Perfect. I need a high intensity play to burn off some of
this energy right now.

“You with me, Crash?” Royce snaps.

“You bet your ass,” I growl.

That’s one thing I can respect about Royce. No matter what
personal beef we have going on, he’ll still make the right play for the team.
We head back into position and brace ourselves for the next play. Our small but
vocal section of traveling supporters can be heard above the other team’s
entire stadium full of fans. Let it never be said that Rayburn fans aren’t
loyal.

As Royce calls out the play, the game goes into slow motion
before my eyes. I launch to the right as our quarterback feigns a hand-off,
leading the defense astray. I sail around the other team’s line, easily
skirting around them as they’re overcome with confusion.

Before they even know what’s hit them, Royce is firing the
ball my way. The field is wide open as I catch his pass and take off like a
shot. I feel someone on my tail, but Buck swoops in to stop him before he can
reach me. I run the ball into the end zone and listen as the stadium erupts
into angry cries.

As six points appear on the scoreboard, I feel the familiar
swell of pride in my chest. But on the edges of that familiar feeling is a new,
creeping sensation. It feels like… impatience. Winning this game will be all
well and good, but I realize that I’m just waiting for it to be over. What I
want isn’t infinite time on the field, it’s for the game to wrap up so I can go
in search of what I really want. Or rather,
who
.

By the time the clock runs down and the Red Birds are
celebrating another victory, it’s all I can do not to sprint off the field and
book is back to campus. I need to see Jessa. To hold her. To be with her.
Yesterday just whetted my appetite, but I’m a growing boy. And I haven't had—or
given—nearly enough to satisfy me just yet.

Jessa

I’m pleasantly buzzed when I arrive back home at around one
in the morning Friday night. Kelsey, Blaire and I all went to see Blake’s dance
piece at one of the school’s blackbox theaters, and split a few bottles of wine
back in Blaire’s dorm room afterward. With Dean off at his away game, it was
nice to have a night out with my friends. But now that I’m climbing the steps
up to my bedroom in the darkened house, that relaxed pleasantness is starting
to ebb away. In its place is a restlessness that’s been gnawing at me since
yesterday afternoon, when Dean and I had our would-be lovemaking session cut
short.

Closing my bedroom door, I shuck off my clothes until I’m
just wearing a bra and panties. I flop down onto my bed, suddenly wide awake.
I’ve never been so ramped up over a guy before. It’s like my body refuses to
give me a moment’s peace until I give it what it so desperately wants—Dean
Carter.

“He’s busy being a football hero,” I whisper to my body,
“You’re just gonna have to hang in there.”

I decided not to head onto campus to try and meet Dean after
the game tonight. He needs some time to revel in his latest victory without me
showing up to snatch him away. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with
him, but I don’t want to force him to give up this other super important part
of his life. That wouldn't be fair of me to ask. I’ll just have to wait until
we get another moment alone… whenever
that
may be.

My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket, and I reach over the
side of the bed to retrieve it. I feel a smile spread across my face as I see a
text from Dean appear on the screen.

Dean: Get home
safe?

I roll onto my stomach and type out a reply.

Jessa: Yep!
Just got in. Congrats on another win, Crash.

Dean: You want
to help me celebrate?

Jessa: What do
you have in mind?

Dean: Look out
your window.

I sit up in bed, whipping around to face my bedroom window.
Tentatively, I peer through the glass and out onto my front lawn. My hearts
lodges itself squarely in my throat as I spot a broad, perfectly balanced
figure leaning against the oak tree in front of my house. I grab my phone and
tap out another response.

Jessa: Oh hey
there.

Dean: I hope
you don
’t mind a little
company…

Jessa: I
’ve been dying for your company. But don’t
you want to blow off some steam with your adoring fans?

Dean: I know of
a much better way to blow off some steam, if you
’re down.

I swallow hard, recalling yesterday afternoon. I didn’t think
we’d have another shot at being together so soon. I glance toward my parents’
bedroom. Surely Dean and I can keep it down… right? In my horny, hormone-crazed
state, I can barely bring myself to care. The only thing on my mind now is Dean
Carter.

Jessa: Get up
here.

Dean: Yes Ma
’am.

As quietly as I can, I ease open my bedroom window. The cool
September breeze sends goosebumps dancing down my arms and legs. Or maybe
that’s just the anticipation? I hear the soft rustling of the trellis as Dean
ascends, pulling himself onto the roof outside my bedroom as if it were
nothing. Thank you, football, for bestowing insane amounts of upper body
strength on this man. Dean spots me waiting for him by the window and makes his
way across the narrow strip of roof. I make room for him on the bed as he
swings his body through the window.

Just like that, we’re back in my bed together—kneeling
silently with nothing but the light from the street lamp to guide us. But even
in the low light, I can see the ardent desire on his face. It’s the same desire
I’ve been trying and failing to tamp down since yesterday afternoon. But we
don’t need to try and contain it any longer.

Without another word, we fall into each other’s arms,
picking up right where we left off. I tear Dean’s shirt up over his head as he
lays me out beneath him on the bed. He kisses me hard and deep, unhooking my
bra and throwing it across the room. Whereas yesterday our pace was slow and
steady, tonight we can’t be tamed. We tear at each other’s clothes, ripping
through layers until nothing separates us.

Dean kneels over me, his staggering body standing in sharp
relief to the darkness. His gorgeous cock stands straight and strong, enticing
me. I can’t help myself. Rising onto all fours, I crawl forward, cupping Dean’s
firm balls with one hand as I guide his thick cock to my mouth. He sucks in a
breath as I wrap my lips around the flared head of his dick, swallowing a moan
as I run my tongue all around the tip of him.

He buries his fingers in my blonde hair as I work my mouth
all along his throbbing shaft, using both of my hands to take what my mouth
alone can’t. Dean is bigger than any man I’ve ever tried to take in my mouth
before, and the mere thought of feeling this enormity plunging deep inside of
me… it’s almost enough to make me come right then and there.

Gathering my legs beneath me, I give his cock one hard suck
before laying back down and guiding it to my pussy. Dean lowers himself to me,
balancing on his forearms as his cock brushes against my sex. He holds himself
suspended above me until I’m practically trembling with wanting to feel his
cock inside of me.

“Do you have another condom?” he whispers in the darkness.

“Somewhere…” I breathe, “But it’s OK, I’m on the pill.
You’ve been tested, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiles, “I’m all good. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am too,” I tell him.

Our eyes lock in the faint yellow light, and I’m sure he can
see my heart beating through my chest.

“You still want this?” he asks, his brown eyes gleaming with
need.

“Absolutely,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around his
shoulders, “You have no idea.”

“I think I do,” he laughs softly, laying a searing kiss on
my lips.

I let my legs fall open to him, wrapping them around his
waist as he presses his hips forward. He guides his cock into me, parting my
silky flesh around his thick member. My head falls back against the pillow as I
feel him fill me up, inch by inch. For a second, I worry that I just won’t be
able to fit him… but my body opens itself eagerly to him, drawing him deeper
than I could have possibly imagined.

And now that I know I can take him, I want as much of him as
I can get.

Dean draws his hips back and thrusts into me again, and
again. I meet his every pass as we find our rhythm, falling into sync as if we’d
done this a thousand times. With every stroke, Dean’s cock drives deeper and
deeper into my body, unlocking new depths of pleasure I didn’t even know
existed. I rake my fingernails along his back we pick up the pace, bucking
wildly against each other as our bodies flush with sensation.

I grab hold of Dean’s tight, sculpted ass, pulling him ever
deeper. His muscled body is a well-oiled fucking machine, and I marvel at the
powerful grace of him even as he levels me with his glorious cock. His mouth
falls open in impending bliss as a low, building warmth starts to spread
through my body. I swear, I can feel him growing harder in the very core of
me—and I fucking love it. Tilting my hips upward, I nearly scream as he slams
into that sweet, juicy spot inside of me that’s sure to send me soaring. 

“I’m right there,” he breathes, fucking me hard and fast.

“Come, baby…” I gasp, holding onto him for dear life, “Come
with me…”

At my command, Dean draws back and sends his cock colliding
with the center of my bliss. My mouth falls open in a silent scream as he
explodes deep inside of me, filling me up with his seed. I hold onto him
tightly as we ride out our orgasm, clutching onto his broad shoulders as the
sensation knocks me flat.

Our bodies go slack as we tumble back onto the bed, a tangle
of limbs and bedsheets. The room is perfectly silent, save for our frenzied
breathing.

“You know, I never really cared much about winning or losing
a football game,” I whisper, trailing my fingertips down his chest, “But if
this is how you celebrate, you’d better make it all the way to the
championship.”

“For you, I will,” he murmurs sleepily, pulling me close.

We doze off for a few hours, clasped in each other’s arms.
My body feels transformed, much more so than when I first lost my virginity
last year. Sure, I felt as though my curiosity had been met when I first had
sex. It was fun, and sweet, and nice. But what just passed between Dean and I…
that was something else altogether. It was deep, and primal, and
transformative. Tonight feels like much more of a milestone than my actual
“first time”. Because for the first time tonight, I feel like part of something
larger than myself. Together, Dean and I are more than we are apart. It seems
impossible that we’ve only known each other for a little over a month. I
already feel like Dean knows me better than I know myself… and that’s as
terrifying as it is exquisitely exciting.

When the sky begins to lighten from black to gray, Dean
sneaks back out of my bedroom window. He leaves me with a searing kiss, a sweet
ache between my legs, and a fire burning in my belly that can only be tamed by
him. But why do I get the feeling that tending to that fire will only mean
stoking it?