Third and Long: A Sports Romance (14 page)

He keeps reminding me that his parents are old school, which means even though he’s the youngest, they expect the most of him since he’s a man. They expect him to step in as the patriarch of the family, a role that he could not care less for.

We trot around the grounds, and I’m already starting to feel pain run up my thighs. Having never ridden a horse before, I’m struggling to get used to the stance. When we pass by the front of the mansion, Logan offers to show me how to ride side saddle.

“I realize we haven’t known each other for very long Logan, but at this point you should know that I’m not very amenable to doing things differently just because I’m a woman,” I say.

“I’m starting to figure that out,” he says. “You’ll get used to the pain.”

“For one I’m not used to spreading my legs this far apart.”

“Tell me about it,” he says with a wry smile.

“Oh I didn’t mean it that way,” I say. “Besides if you can stand to ride that way with your big fucking cock in the way, I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Come again?” he asks, smirking like a school boy.

“I think Gwen is rubbing off on me. Don’t get any ideas, cowboy.”

I can’t believe I said that to him. My cheeks are ready to turn bright red. First time on a horse, first time addressing the size of a guy’s cock out loud. I wonder what other firsts I’ll have today.

“Tell me about your sisters,” I ask him as we trot around the vast side yard of the mansion.

“What’s there to tell?” he asks sheepishly.

“Which one beat you up as a kid?” I ask.

“Jillian,” he mutters.

“Isn’t she only a year older?”

“Yes, but fierce as fuck. One time in seventh grade, a girl dumped me on Valentine’s Day because she wanted to go out with Bobby Derek, and Jillian kicked her ass.”

“Oh my god. That’s terrible and funny at the same time.”

Surefire and Daisy guide us over well-trodden ground. Logan smiles when he talks about his sisters. I take that to be a good sign.

“So tell me something about Carolyn,” I say.

“She’s the pot smoking champion of Houston, Texas,” Logan says as he nudges the horses toward the front of the mansion grounds.

“Having met your parents, I would not have expected that.”

“That’s exactly why you should have expected it,” he smirks.

There’s something about being away from college that makes me feel like I can give my obligations a rest. Logan guides my horse. He makes sure that I won’t get bucked off by Surefire. He’s taking care of me, and I like that. Not to mention that he looks fucking handsome riding tall in the saddle.

As we near the front of the mansion, Logan grabs the reins of my horse and leads us across the brick drive. Down the drive by the garage, Gregory washes the limousine that drove us out here. Some landscapers care for the trees that line the drive up to the front. I wonder what his parents are up to right now because there’s certainly nothing that needs doing out here.

“How many people do your parents employ? I feel like I’m in a Disney movie and all the candlesticks and shit have turned back into humans already.”

“A dozen or so. Can you figure out why my sisters took off for Paris yet? Imagine sitting around here waiting for my dad to marry you off.”

I shudder at the thought.

We’re heading back to the stable. The ride has been nice. Peaceful, solitary. Just Logan and me. I could get used to being alone with him more often. He’s powerful yet sweet, strong but vulnerable. He’s an enigma. There’s so much more that I want to know about him.

“You must have been so bored out of your mind here. Your dad wouldn’t even send you out to rake leaves or anything?”

“I was kind of a sheltered kid yeah. Boring is one way to put it. They sent me to private school from kindergarten through high school. A lot of things were taken care of for me.”

“So college was your first exposure to us commoners?” I ask.

“I wish it came earlier,” he says.

“You’re not one of those rich people with fantasies of being poor are you?”

He laughs as we arrive back at the stable. Since he doesn’t answer me, I figure there might be a little something to my comment. Logan catches me in his strong arms as I awkwardly dismount from Surefire. He leads Daisy and Surefire back into their stalls.

While it’s not the most romantic place in the world, it is away from his parents. The smell of rain water lingers from last night’s storm, and the wooden walls of the stable creak as they settle into the wet ground.

I watch as he gives each horse some feed and water. Leaning against the wooden wall of the stable, a chill wind blows through reminding me that it’s still October. Part of me wonders what this place looks like during the holidays. If his parents are as old school as Logan says, then they must do it up big.

“Remember when I told you why I play football?” he asks, draping Surefire’s saddle over a painted wooden railing.

“So you could prove yourself?”

“So I could prove that I’m more than the son of a billionaire. I don’t want to be given things. I think we have that in common.”

I roll my eyes. “Give or take a billion dollars.”

“For real. You, by necessity, have to earn everything. It’s your whole deal. You need to make your way. I want that. I wish I could have that. My sisters didn’t go to France to study, they went to party. My parents think they’re studying really hard because they never take a minute to look at their Instagram.”

“Your sisters sound really fun to be honest,” I say, feeling the conversation get a bit heavy.

Logan walks to the stable door, and rests his strong forearm on the door frame. He takes a long look at his parents’ house.

“If I got an MBA like you, if I went into the business world, people would be lining up to give me a job because of my dad. Football is the only thing where they’ll boot me off the team if they have to,” he says.

“What I wouldn’t give to have your problems,” I say. He’s got a point. I’ll give him that.

Logan turns around, the morning sun, peaking through that overcast sky frames, his gorgeous body in the door frame. I’ve never felt as weak around a boy as I do around him.

“You want to know why I came to see you last night?” he asks.

“It wasn’t just for my booty?”

“Besides that,” he says smiling.

I cross my arms and kick a leg up against the barn wall. He better have an awfully good explanation for barging into my room like that.

“My dad’s retiring. He told me last night. If I don’t take over the business, then he’s going to sell it. That means a business that survived two generations of Olivers will be sold because the third generation couldn’t be bothered to continue it.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” I say.

“You’re telling me. So what do I do? Do I do the one thing that I hate and take the business, or do I say fuck it all and play football? That’s what I was coming to ask you, but I—”

“Got distracted?” I ask, feeling his eyes go up and down my body. He’s checking me out again! He can’t help himself.

His piercing blue eyes practically stare through me. There’s a lion in him that’s ready to come out. His intensity, his stare, his muscles. Everything about Logan is so overwhelming. That’s why I don’t flinch when he crosses the stable, grabs me and pins me to the wall.

His hands punch against the wall on either side of me, and his body presses into mine. Before I can react, we’re kissing again. I’m hesitant at first until I melt again, unable to resist him in any way. I’m losing it, losing the will to stay true to my promise.

My mouth opens to him. His warm, supple tongue plays with me, taking what he wants. I touch his chest, feeling his muscles heave under my hands. I’m helpless to his power, yet there’s no place else I’d rather be.

Then everything changes when his right hand slides down my pant leg. He looks me in the eyes as if asking permission, and I give it to him. Nodding slowly, my eyes say yes. I bite my lip.

I feel his hand glide along my thigh as if my pants aren’t even there. Suddenly and fiercely he grabs me between the legs. His firm hands holds me there, rubbing against the inside of my legs.

I can’t help but moan, lost to his touch as our tongues play with each other in a flurry of delighted flicks. His hand is so strong that it feels like there’s nothing between him and my sex. I can feel myself getting wet as he grips me, rubbing me.

Soon I have to take my mouth away from his to let out a desirous moan. His eyes look into mine with an eagerness to both please me and make me do what he wants. I want him to take me. I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t want him.

“Logan,” I murmur.

He starts to unzip my pants, giving me a small reprieve from the incredibly excitement of his touch.

“Tamber,” he growls with the fierceness of a lion.

My pants slip down my waist easily. He has me pinned against the wall in my panties.

“I know you don’t want to have sex,” he says. “But how about I make you come with my hand?”

It’s a request I can’t refuse, and I don’t want to. I nod and his mouth goes to my neck, kissing me. He kisses me from my ear to my breasts. My knees are weak. I feel like collapsing.

He pulls my panties down, and I realize this is for real. He’s going to play with me. When he kisses me hard on the lips again, his fingers work their way around my sex. He feels my wetness, finding my excitement. My moans are muffled by his mouth. Logan explores me, finds my clit and massages it gently. I moan again, and again I’m muffled by his powerful kiss.

My body feels hot. I want so much more. Finally he stops kissing me, so I can speak.

“Is that good?” he asks.

“Oh god Logan, you’re going to make me—”

I’m hypnotized by his touch. Even here at my most vulnerable, he makes me feel safe in a way I have never felt. Then like a typical boy, he has to ruin it by talking.

“So much for that promise,” he murmurs as he teases my clit.

Instantly, I push him away. He lets me slump back against the wall of the shed.

“Geez Tamber something I said?” he asks looking hurt that I’d reject him.

“Yeah, everything,” I mutter, pulling up panties and pants. I’m two seconds away from giving it all up to him—again might I add—and he ruins it. Just keep your fucking mouth shut, I think to myself. My phone buzzes in my pants. As much as I want to answer it, knowing that it has to be Gwen, I figure it would be inappropriate. I suppose I owe Logan some kind of explanation.

Respectfully, Logan takes a few steps away from me and gives me a moment to come down from the high. He was right about to send me into fucking orbit. That man has some talented hands. No wonder he’s a quarterback.

“Care to help me out here?” he asks.

“Do I care to tell my fake fiancé something that I’ve never told anyone?” I ask.

“We don’t have to be fake anymore,” he says with that dopey grin of his.

I give him the frown to end all frowns, and he gets the hint. Now it’s my turn to go over to the door and stare back at the mansion. Lot of deep thoughts happen in a place that smells like literal horse shit. Surefire, Daisy, and the other horses are making a lot of noise. Maybe horses can sense tension.

“My mom promised me never to get involved with a guy,” I say.

“Until you get your career going or something right?” he asks.

I turn around and say, “Never actually. She was kind of dramatic.”

“Your mom asked you never get involved with a guy? That’s kind of ridiculous,” he says.

“I know. I’ve been going along with it, figuring that one day I wouldn’t need to listen to her advice anymore.”

“There’s a story here, and I want to hear all of it,” he says, flopping down onto a pile of hay. I can’t help but wonder what’s in that hay.

Rather than join him, I flip over an empty bucket and park my ass on it. I promised Gwen I would bring her clothes back in one piece. She’ll forgive me if I bring back a juicy story with them. He studies me, knowing that he’s in for an earful.

“I didn’t take you for the kind of guy that cares about the girls you sleep with,” I say.

“I haven’t slept with you,” he says.

“Point.”

“Yet.”

“Do you think you’re going to?”

Logan gives me that confident stare, those piercing blue eyes that penetrate right through me and make me quiver, yet his mouth doesn’t move. His eyes say enough.

“Norma, my mom, had a full ride to Stanford. She was majoring in pre-law,” I say, launching into a story that I’ve never told anyone even though I’ve been rehearsing it for years.

Logan starts listening very intently, and I can tell that he’s been waiting to hear this too.

“She went home for the summer after her freshman year and reunited with her boyfriend. He was the starting quarterback for their high school team. Back in high school, she was the head cheerleader. Kind of your stereotypical high school romance.”

“Hey! I like where this is going,” Logan says.