The Hook Up (Game On Book 1) (46 page)

“Anna…” His voice is so gentle it sets my teeth on edge.

“No,” I snap. “Just…let me finish.”

He gives an awkward nod.

“I know it wasn’t fair to treat you the way I did,” I say. “Or to put you in some category that I created due to bad experience and old teen angst. But it’s hard, Drew.” My mouth trembles, I bite down on my lip. “It’s hard nullifying all of that, because it came back to me every time you paid attention to me in public and people stared. When they’d ask why you’re with me.”

“I don’t give a shit what people think,” he cuts in on a rasp. “Only what you think.”

My chin drops. I can’t look at him anymore. “Don’t you understand? I felt like an impostor. I kept waiting for you to realize that you’d got it wrong. That I was the girl you were never supposed to see.”

“Not possible,” he says with quiet fierceness.

“But—”

“Anna, baby, you would never be the girl I didn’t see, whether we had met now or in high school.” He pulls me in close, rubbing his nose along the tip of mine. “Don’t
you
understand? I know you wouldn’t be because, since the moment I laid eyes on you, you’re all I
can
see.” Drew kisses me, lingering before he pulls back to study me. His eyes are clear and filled with so much emotion that my throat closes up. As if he too is overcome, he swallows hard, and his voice is but a breath. “I love you, Anna Jones. That’s not going to change. I loved you when I thought we’d never be together, and I love you still.”

I let go of a sharp breath and then lean into him. I don’t kiss his lips but the tender spot on his neck where his pulse beats. “I should have told you earlier.”

His throat moves under my lips as he swallows. “Yeah.” His lips brush my temple, his warm, rough palms smoothing down my thighs. “But I understand now.”

“I’m so sorry, Drew.” I place a tender kiss on the center of his chest.

His voice is thick. “Don’t need that.”

No, he needs the words, at the very least to know that I care for him too. I owe him so much more. Sitting back on his lap, I meet his eyes. Emotion clogs my throat, makes my heart speed up to a desperate thud, thud, thud.

He appears almost stern, his mouth relaxed but not smiling. God, he’s everything. Everything. I touch his cheek, grazing the beard-roughened skin there with my fingertips. My mouth opens yet nothing comes out. With a garbled sound, I throw myself on him, hugging him hard and burrow my face into the smooth crook of his neck. He’s warm, his scent familiar and comforting in a bone-deep way that has me crying harder.

And though I’ve clearly shocked him, he wraps his arms around me and holds on tightly.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Anna…”

“I’m sorry.” I gulp down air, trying to calm. “I’m sorry.” But I can’t stop shaking.

His arms are steel supports against my back, his chest a solid slab that bolsters me. I snuggle in deeper. “I was so scared,” I whisper against his damp skin. “I saw you… the hit. I needed to get to you, and…” I can’t say the rest.

Beneath me, his body relaxes a little and his big hand cups the back of my head before stroking it. “Shhh. It’s okay.”

But it isn’t. How can I explain to him? If he hadn’t gotten up from that hit, something vital inside me would have died. The truth chokes me, burns my throat.

“It’s okay, Anna. I’ve got you.” His smooth, deep voice rolls over my skin like a caress. “I won’t let you go.”

He won’t. He never truly has. On a breath, I press my forehead to his. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“What wasn’t, baby?”

I run my shaking fingers along his jaw. “Finding you now. Before I got all of my shit together.”

“But you did,” he whispers. “And I’m not sorry.”

Neither am I.

I look at him. Really look, my eyes wide open, letting him see all of me. Every hidden vulnerability. In return, I see the world in his. A tremor runs through me, and I cup his cheek. “I love you, Drew Baylor. No one has
ever
meant as much to me as you have. I adore you, need you, crave you—”

His lips meet mine, his kiss deep and demanding.

I sink into it, clutching his neck and shoulders like a lifeline. And there is no more talking, just long searching kisses, and short, frantic ones. Places to touch and rediscover. Emotion and need surge in like the tide. The sheet covering his lap is tugged away, and his hot cock presses against my sex, slipping against the wetness there.

“Put me inside you,” he breathes into my mouth, his lips nipping at mine. “I need to be inside you.”

I rock against him, making him groan. When I lift up and the thick, rounded crown of him presses against my opening, our gazes lock. We both shudder as I sink down onto him. It feels so damn good, like everything I’ve missed and like nothing before. It’s better. Truer.

The muscles along his chest strain as he pushes in further and a flush works over his cheeks. “God,” he rasps, “I’ve missed being surrounded by you. So perfect. This is what I needed. You. Here.”

“I know. I needed this too.” I cup his cheeks with my hands. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”

He eyes squeeze shut at the words, his throat working. His hands ease up to hold me as I hold him. And he thrusts up, meeting me halfway. Our foreheads touch, our breath mingling hot and uneven.

I ride him slowly, working my hips in an undulating rhythm that has us both trembling. My sex feels swollen, full of him. The pace is torture. I’m acutely aware of every inch of his thick girth moving in and out of me.

My skin steams, and I wrench the jersey off, the cool air tightening my nipples. Drew captures one in his mouth, sucking it with sharp tugs that I feel down to my core. My breath catches, and my insides clench. A move I know he feels when he groans and answers with a sharper thrust. His big hand clamps down on my butt, clenching and kneading it as if he’s making up for lost opportunities.

God, he’s so delicious looking, all sweaty and flushed, his muscles moving as his body rocks into mine. I lean down, lick along the strong column of his throat. His scent surrounds me, a comfort and an aphrodisiac. I love the way he smells, feels.

Both hands cup my butt now. His finger brushes against the entrance to my ass, and I hiss. Sensation, dark and forbidden, skitters through me at the touch.

Our eyes meet. Because Drew is paying attention to my every move, and because I am watching him, I see the understanding and the heated knowledge dawn in his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he strokes the spot again, an exploration that circles the area. And again, my insides tighten. It feels illicit, this touch, and despite my pounding heart, or maybe because of it, I push back against his finger. Just enough. His throat works on a swallow, his skin prickling. Within me, his cock swells.

Holding my gaze, and moving slow enough for me to stop him, Drew reaches over to the bedside table. I don’t look at what he’s doing. Part of me knows, and I go both hot and cold. Anticipation has my heart leaping within my chest and my throat going dry. We’ve both gone so still and tense, I feel his cock pulsing inside of me. Our mingled pants sound overloud in the silence. And then I see the gleam of his fingers now coated in olive oil.

The first touch is a slow, insistent push. I swallow hard, my clit throbbing and my entire lower half clenching.
God.

The thick tip of his finger breeches the tight ring of my ass. I moan, my head falling forward. Oh God. What we’re doing is something new for me. Something I never trusted anyone to do. It’s personal, naughty, decadent. I want more.

Watching me with dark eyes, he sinks in further. My lids flutter, pleasure and a feeling of fullness overwhelming me. I’m so hot, so turned on, I can barely breathe. My chest is heaving now, my thighs shaking.

He shakes too, his heavily-lidded gaze never leaving mine, and I know he’s never done anything like this either. He pants like he’s run miles, sweat making his golden skin glisten.

With every thrust of his cock, his finger slides away, then pushes back in as his cock retreats. In and out, a slow, inexorable rhythm of dual attack that gets me hotter. I’m so weak, I can only lie prone against his chest and take it as I shiver and sweat. Our lips brush, our breath shared. I kiss him, trusting my tongue in his mouth, fucking it just as he fucks me. Drew groans. His hips slam into mine, harder, aggressive.

Another finger plunges into me, and I whimper. The invasion aches, a sore heaviness that I both want to escape and push into further. I feel it everywhere, running up against my skin, licking down the valley of my spine. I’m going to melt right here, dissolve and sink into his flesh.

His next thrust wracks my body. My breasts slide over his slick chest. He wiggles his fingers. And I lose all sense of myself as I begin to come on a long, keening wail. I arch back, my hands braced on his shoulders.

But he doesn’t stop tormenting me. He pushes deeper. The orgasm ratchets higher with each hitch of my breath. Frantically, I rock my hips, needing the friction. “Oh shi—Oh, shi—”

I bow over Drew, my face burrowing into his neck, my entire body going so tight it shakes. Weakly, I grasp his shoulders as my hips grind against his. I need release. I’m still coming, pleasure tearing through me.

“Drew.” It’s a helpless plea. “Drew…”

On a deep groan, he turns his head, grabs the back of my neck. His kiss is frenzied, messy as he thrusts into me, hard and wild. The orgasm breaks over me like cold fire. I whimper into his mouth. He swallows it down, his breath coming out in fierce exhalations through his nostrils. His entire body shakes, his grip in my hair going tight as he bucks against me. He comes with a bellow that vibrates his frame.

For a long moment, we lay boneless and sweat-slicked. My body rises and falls with his chest as his breathing slows down. Then he holds me against him, one arm wrapped around my shoulders, the other about my hips, and peppers my face with tender kisses. “Baby. You okay? That was…” A luscious shiver goes through him.

“Yeah,” I whisper, “it
so
was.” Smiling, I play with the ends of his hair and weakly kiss him back.
Finally.
Finally everything feels right.

Drew presses my hand against his sweaty chest where his heart still beats a fierce rhythm. His voice is whisper-quiet but crystal clear. “My world lives in your palm, Anna.”

And I’ll fill it with all the love I have. We fall asleep that way, him still deep inside me, our bodies so entwined that we’ve become one.

I HAVE ANNA all to myself for seven days. Seven days of living by what I start to call the holy trinity of “S” sex, sleep, and sustenance. It’s all we really need. My bed is base camp, though we’ve made forays onto the couch, the kitchen counter, and that one time on my weight bench, though I can’t recall how we even got there. I can, however, recall with perfect clarity the way Anna came, how her inner walls clutched me as she cried out. Which makes me horny all over again as I hobble out to the kitchen for more sustenance.

As a guy who has always operated under a schedule, I thought I’d grow antsy, need to get out and about, but I’m loving the break. As long as I don’t think about football, I’m happy. Relaxed. When was the last time I was relaxed? I don’t even remember. I do know one thing; it’s because I’m with Anna. Anna who loves me. God, having her love does me in. It makes me feel as weak as a fucking kitten and as big as a fucking mountain.

As if my thoughts pulled her in, Anna enters the living room. Only she’s carrying her overnight bag. Like that, my stomach bottoms out.

“You’re going?” I think I sound casual, but I can’t be sure. I’m too off balance to gage it.

She plops the bag down on the couch to put her hair in a ponytail. “I need to do some laundry.”

“You can do it here.” Smooth. That didn’t sound at all needy.

She gives me a quick smile. “I know. But I’m kind of sick of these clothes too.”

Right. Well, there goes that argument.

Walking with her usual casual grace, she heads for the kitchen. “After breakfast, I think I’ll head home and get a few things done.”

I flick the back of my nail against my orange juice glass. “Okay.”