The Hook Up (Game On Book 1) (30 page)

Drew climbs over me. Hot, smooth skin slides over mine. Hard muscles. Heavy, dense flesh. And everywhere he touches, I ignite.

We don’t stop kissing. I don’t think I’m capable of stopping. I’m starved for his mouth.

He moves between my legs, and I tilt my hips to give him better access.
Now
. I want him now. Hard. Fast. But suddenly he slows us down, suckling my lower lip before he raises his head. Arms bracketing me, he looks into my eyes, his fingers playing with my hair.

His lids lower a fraction, but he doesn’t close his eyes. “Every night,” he says. “Every single night I’ve thought about you being here. Just like this.”

I shiver. Every single night I’ve feared being here. Like this. Because I wanted it so very much.

Skin to skin, we lie, trembling and sweating. Between our pressed bellies, his cock throbs hot and firm. I struggle to breathe. My palms skim over his narrow, tight waist, as I try for a light tone. “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do to me?”

Drew’s lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile. “Keep you here.”

Hell.

Just when I fear emotion might cripple me, he moves, canting his hips until the rounded tip of his cock nudges against my opening. My attention zeroes in on it, that spot where everything has gone so hot and needy that my sex clenches. Holding my gaze, he slides the tip in. Then the bastard stills.

“Drew.” Squirming, I try to take more.

He only smiles and holds steady, a solid plank of unyielding muscle. “Do you want me?”

“You know I do.” Every substantial inch. But that’s not what he’s asking, and we both know it.

“All of me?” His expression turns serious, his voice a ghost in the silence. Oh, but he rocks his hips, pushing in just a bit more, an inducement designed to make me insane. “Do you want all of me, Anna?”

I can feel my heart beating against his. Twin steady, quick thrums that match pace. I could say no. Retreat to safety. And it would end the best thing that has ever happened to me. With a shaking hand, I reach out and skim my fingers along the damp hair at his temple. “Yes.”

He swallows audibly, his body trembling with something that feels like relief against my skin. “Glad we’ve got that settled.” He moves to thrust but halts again. This time with a curse that mingles with mine.

“Now you’re just being cruel,” I wail.

“I’m not…Fuck.” He pants. “I left the condoms in the car.”

“In the car?” I squirm, barely able to think. “What the hell are they doing in there?”

His breath gusts over my cheeks on a pained laugh. “It’s not like I need them in here, Jones.” He tilts his head and kisses me at a different angle, all open mouth and wet. When he talks again, it’s a thick whisper. “I’d have left them at your house, but it seemed presumptuous.”

God, I even love the way he murmurs ‘presumptuous’ against my mouth. My lips vibrate with it, and I lick them, before licking his. I’m so hot, so turned on, I can’t stand it. I’m so empty it hurts. “Forget the condom,” I say in a strangled voice. “Just… just fuck me.”

A tremor lights over him, and I feel the head of his cock twitch. Honey-brown eyes stare down at me. “You sure?”

We both know it’s a matter of believing each other when we say we’re clean, and trusting that we’re exclusive, of Drew trusting me when I say that I’m on the pill. Do I trust him? Yes. Am I nervous? Hell yes.

I swallow hard, resisting the temptation to move. “Unless you don’t want to?” I won’t hold it against him if he wants a condom. Never. I start to tell him that when he replies.

His answer is a kiss, a dirty-sexy, wet fuck of my mouth, as he thrusts his cock in deep. That thick invasion, it fills me up, makes me gasp.

“Holy hell.” He groans. “You feel so good.” And then he’s pumping, groaning low as he moves. My focus narrows to the smell of his skin, the feel of him pushing in and pulling out of my swollen sex, the near helpless sounds he makes with each thrust.

His thumb finds the tight bead of my nipple and rolls it. Combined with the way he licks along the inside of my upper lip, the simple action is almost indecent. It shakes me to the core.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasp into his mouth.

An orgasm steals over me, not with violence, but a slow, swelling wash of heat that has me shivering and whimpering into his open mouth. I’m weak with it, my arms falling limp at my sides as it takes me.

“That’s it,” he whispers against my lips. “Let it ride.” He cups my cheek, his hand big, warm, solid, as he watches me come undone, his eyes burning.

Helpless, I grab hold of his hair, as another roll of sensation hits me.

“Drew. I...” I can’t breathe. “I need…”
You.

“I know,” he says as if hearing my silent plea. “I know.”

He captures my hand, forcing me to stay with him as he plucks my nipple and grinds his hips. I’m at the precipice when he loses control. A shudder runs over him and then he levers himself up on his arms and pounds into me. Flesh slaps against flesh. The impact makes my hipbones ache. I’m so wet, so messy wet, that every sound is magnified. And I love it.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasps, moving his hips with a swivel, raw and greedy, like he’s rutting against me, and my world goes dark and violent with lust. I’m coming again, the sensation punching into me, making me arch up, my hips chasing his, my hands clawing at the hard swells of his shoulders.

Drew lets go with a long, low groan, and a flood of warmth fills me up.

For a moment we lay quiet, Drew curled around me, his cheek against mine, the corners of our lips touching as we pant. Slowly, I come back to myself, aware of his fingers stroking my shoulder and the pulse of his cock within me.

It’s so quiet that when he whispers in my ear, my whole body shivers from the sound. “You’ve destroyed me, Anna Jones.”

I know exactly what he means, because he’s destroyed me too.

BENEATH THE COVERS where it’s warm and quiet, we can’t stop touching each other. Nothing obvious, just small caresses. A stroke of a finger along a shoulder, a tickle down an arm, a brush of lips across a temple. We face, Drew’s arm snakes under my neck and wraps around my shoulders, holding me close enough that we share the same air, our legs threaded together in a hot tangle. I don’t want to move. I want to keep my hand where it rests upon his sweat-damp chest and feel his heart’s steady rhythm. I want rest. I feel like I’ve been running forever, and I don’t know why or from what.

“Congratulations again on your win tonight.” I speak in hushed tones, not wanting to rupture the fragile little world we’ve cocooned ourselves in.

Drew’s answering smile is one of lazy satisfaction. His big, warm hand curls protectively around my neck and his thumb traces my jaw. “It was the sweetest win ever.” Slowly he pulls me in. His smile grows, even as he gives me an easy, butter-soft kiss. He hums and does it again before easing back. “I finally got Anna Jones to let me kiss her.”

His words take a second to sink in, and then I snort. “Dork.”

Drew chuckles low, but he’s kissing me again, soft, seeking little kisses, like he’s memorizing my lips with his. “Am not,” he murmurs against them. “You think winning a football game compares to that victory? Please.” The tip of his tongue touches the corner of my smiling mouth before his lips follow. “You must be crazy, Jones.”

His hard cock is a silken weight brushing against my side. And then he’s rolling over onto me, slipping his hips between my spreading thighs. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and sigh. “Well, someone’s crazy,” I say. “That’s for sure.”

“Mmm.” Drew kisses my neck, my jaw. “Someone is,” he agrees at my ear, making me shiver, hold on tighter as his hips rock gently, sliding along the wetness of my sex. He’ll soon sink into me. But not yet. He likes to tease. And I love it when he does.

But he pauses and lifts his head to smile down at me. In the lambent light of the lone bedroom lamp, his eyes are dark gold. His touch is achingly tender as he brushes a knuckle along my cheek. “Kiss me, Anna,” he whispers, his lips inches from mine.

And I’m lost. My hand feels too heavy, shaky as I reach out to thread my fingers through his silky hair and pull him down. My mouth moves over his, slow, searching, pouring everything I am into him. He responds with a little moan, his hips lifting, and then he’s sinking back into me. Filling me up.

“Again,” he demands as soon as the kiss breaks. So I do. I kiss him as he works me, until we’re both too weak to do anything more than hold each other, reduced to a shivering pile of exhausted limbs and mouths.

And when he threads his fingers through mine and whispers “Stay.”

I do.

I’M EXHAUSTED. LONG into the night, Anna and I reached for each other. I’d drift off to sleep, only to slip out of it when smooth hands slid over my ass or a hot tongue licked along my neck before traveling down. Anna, once satisfied, would sigh and fall asleep, all warm and soft against me, my hand cupping her full breast. I’d be unable to resist playing with her nipple, flicking and gently pinching it until she squirmed and turned in my arms with a murmured, “Again?”

Yes, again. Until we couldn’t move any more.

In the early morning hours, I slept with her warm weight against my side, her hand upon my chest as if keeping my heart guarded and safe. The simple act of sleeping has never been so good. I woke her by sinking inside her wet warmth. Anna rewarded me with a wide smile and wrapped her legs around my waist to hold me there as we shared lazy kisses.

Now, after leaving her sleeping under my covers and taking a long, hot shower, I’m in the kitchen, knees weak and cock sore, my hands mildly shaking as I attempt to make scrambled eggs. I am failing miserably. When they turn brown and clump together in hard balls, I curse and shove the pan off the burner.

“Toast,” I mumble to myself. “I can do toast.”

“What’s that awful smell?” Anna walks out of my room, wearing one of my t-shirts, which engulfs her to mid-thigh, and a pair of black yoga pants. My heart flips over in my chest.

“Hey.” I shift over to block the evidence of my egg debacle. But she isn’t looking my way. She wanders over to the mantle where my Heisman trophy sits. The swell of pride I feel over the fact that she notices it is probably ridiculous, but it’s there all the same. Her slim finger runs along the base where my name is etched.

“Got that my sophomore year,” I say. “When we won our first Championship.”

She glances at me, her eyes bright. “This is kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yeah.” The biggest in my career so far.

She isn’t fooled by my humble act. “You’re amazing, Drew.”

So are you.
I don’t voice that, however. I’m in danger of dropping to my knees and confessing all at this point. Instead, I keep a casual slouch and eye her as she walks towards me.

“Where’d you get the pants?” I ask her, pleased that my voice doesn’t crack.

She glances around the kitchen, her nose wrinkling as if she’s scenting out the crime. But then she stops, runs a hand through her tangled curls, and smiles. “Stuffed in my bag in case of emergencies.”

“Emergencies?” Like unplanned overnights with guys? I’m not going to be jealous.