False Start: A Football Romance (6 page)

BOOK: False Start: A Football Romance
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Chapter Twelve

 

Callum

 

I don't know what the fuck to do. It seems every single decision I’ve made in the last twenty-four hours has been the wrong one.

I can't believe I fucked her.

I can’t believe how fucking good she felt in my arms once again.

Home.

Where she belongs.

How the hell am I gonna convince her of that? Thirty seconds after shattering her world and making her legs tremble with each stroke of my finger, she dismisses me as nothing more than a delivery boy.

Hi, my name is Callum Johnson. Orgasm Deliverer Extraordinaire.

No need to tip.

It’s my pleasure. Literally.

Fuck. How the hell did I manage to screw this shit up so badly? I was going to take it slow and win her back by doing the only thing I knew how to do.

I planned to show her how much she missed me and pray she never wanted to leave me again. Instead, I fuck her senseless and then watch as she walks out the door with my new best friend, leaving me standing in the middle of my living room with psycho crazy Rhonda.

It’s like my life is on repeat and I am doomed to continue in this same vicious cycle.

A knock at the door pulls my attention away from the toxic train of thought. I groan inwardly as I stand and make my way to the front door, trying to gather the energy to send Rhonda away again, but when I open the door, I’m greeted by a seven-year-old torpedo who leaps into my arms.

“Cal. It
is
you.”

“Hey, buddy. Come on in,” I say, setting him down and closing the door behind him after dismissing Lonnie.

“Holy milk cow. Is this your house? Is it a mansion? It looks like a mansion. Do you have a pool? Do you have a roller coaster inside? It's big enough to have a roller coaster.”

I laugh, picking him back up and carrying him to the kitchen. I can’t believe how much he has grown in the last six months. His hair hangs in his eyes now, all bushy and kinky just like Amelia’s, and every few seconds, he tosses his head to move it out of the way.

“I don't think we have a roller coaster, but I could be wrong. This place is too big to explore all by myself. I sure do wish I had a partner who could help me.”

“Oh, Cal, can I help? I love exploring, and I’m really good at it. Like for real. I am. I bet I can find the roller coaster and the pool.”

“You think so? Well if you're up for it, then let’s go,” I say sitting him on the counter. “I think we should pack a bag, just in case. We don't know how long this might take, ya know.”

“Good idea, Cal. We definitely need water . . . oh, and pickles.”

“Okay. Water, pickles . . . how about some crackers? Pop Tarts?”

“Yeah, both of those.”

I slide all of our supplies into a bag in the pantry and then slip it over my shoulder. “Ready?” I ask Carson.

“Yep,” he says, jumping down from the counter.

“Which way should we go first?” I ask, looking at the two entrances to the kitchen.

“This way, Cal. Let me lead. I’m really good at this.”

“Okay, you can be the leader, and I'll be the caboose,” I say and then follow him from the kitchen, texting Griffin on my way out to ask him to let Amelia know that I have Carson and we are okay. I know everything that happened today has taken its toll on her, and she needs a little alone time. She's always the strong one, making sure everyone else around has what they need, putting their needs before her own.

Its time she let someone share the burden with her, to show her that she doesn't always have to be the strong one.

Someone like me.

But first, we need to sit down and have a good ole’ heart to heart. It’s about time I find out if what she said all those months ago was the truth or if my instinct was right and she was just pushing me away.

When I saw Amie in the lap of my best friend that night, a million thoughts ran through my head.  Everything from . . .
Is she hurt?
to
How could she?
It wasn't until Tom kissed her and she let him, kissing him right back, that my worst fears came crashing into me. My future wife, the love of my life, was cheating on me with my best friend. I barely understood her words when she told me she didn't want me anymore. I couldn't focus enough to hear her.

And then I lost my shit.

It wasn't until my anger had finally subsided and I was already in St Louis that I was able to remember the other details of that night. Like how her body tensed when I walked into the room, even though she pretended not to know I was there, and the way her fist was clenched tight, her knuckles white behind Tom’s head when he kissed her.

Almost like she wanted to be anywhere in the world except right there. It definitely wasn't the reaction from someone who was crazy, head over heels about someone. No. It was more like the way someone would be acting when they were pretending to like someone else just to push away another person.

Like me.

She was just selfish enough to do something like that while thinking she was giving me the one thing I wanted. Little did she know, the only thing I ever want in this world is her.

Since the first day I laid my eyes on her, she has consumed me completely. Every thought. Every move. Every decision. They all revolved around her.

I should have gotten in the truck and driven back to her as soon as I could, but I couldn't. Not after the way I acted that night. Not after beating Tom within an inch of his life right in front of her. I saw the way she looked at me that night—like I was a monster, and she wanted as far away from me as possible. There was no way she would take me back then. So I did the only other thing I could do. I threw myself into the game.

And I fucking dominated it.

It wasn't unheard of for a rookie player to get game time on the field, but it was unheard of for him to get it the first week into the season and during every single game following it. When Ricky, our team’s prized wide receiver, got hurt during practice, I stepped up, ready for my chance. Ready to show these fools what I had in me.

They call me Breezy.

Breezy Johnson because just like a breeze that ruffles your skirt, you can feel me, you can hear me, but you won't see me coming. When that ball hits my hands, my feet carry me like the wind I’m named after. No one can touch me.

Sound cocky? You would, too, if you had the stats I have to back it up.

“Cal, can we build a fort?” Carson asks, stopping in the second living room. It's the perfect room for building a fort, with the massive couch that covers half of the room and the tall, blacked out windows across the room.

“Sure can. You tired of searching for the roller coaster?” I ask him.

“I think we should rest. Just like on a real hike across the desert, don't ya think so?”

“My legs are a bit tired. A break it is,” I say, tossing the backpack off my shoulder and grabbing several cushions from the couch. “Where should we start?” I ask Carson.

“This way,” he says, and I follow. I’ve missed this little guy and his active imagination. I’ve missed a lot of things. Now that I have them back, I’ll be damned if I let them go again.

Chapter Thirteen

 

Amelia

 

My heart tightens in my chest. Tears threaten to fall, but I manage to hold them back long enough to grab Griffin’s phone and snap a quick picture. After sending it to myself, I sneak into the room and gently lift Carson’s head from Cal’s lap where he fell asleep. Cal jerks awake and helps me ease Carson down, slipping a pillow beneath his head before standing and stretching tall.

I can't imagine how he slept like that—legs stretched out in front of him with his back to the couch, his head laid against the cushion, staring up at the ceiling. If I had any doubt in my mind about how I felt for this man, then walking in and seeing the sight waiting for me would have cleared it up for me. As it is, it's taking everything I have in me to not wrap my arms around his neck and tell him right this second how sorry I am and how much I love him.

How I never stopped loving him.

“Hey. Did you have fun?” he asks, watching me from his place a foot away. There is too much distance between us, too many unanswered questions, and the tension in the room is so thick, I can feel it dripping from my pores.

“Yeah, it was great. Looks like y’all had fun too.”

“A bit.”

We stand there staring at each other, both wanting to speak but neither knowing what to say or how to say it.

“Can we talk?” we spit out at the same time and then laugh, breaking the tension in the room a little.

“Let’s go to your room so we don't wake up the little man,” Cal suggests, and I nod, agreeing. I follow him down the hall the way I came, watching the way his calves tense with each step he takes, the way his perfectly molded ass fills his shorts, imagining my hands against him, pulling him into me. I shake my head as we walk into the room, but this time, instead of being greeted with the stark white walls and bright yellow and blue rug, I’m staring at a much more masculine room of reds and blues.

“This isn't my room,” I say, confused.

“It is now,” he replies cryptically. I walk toward the bed, needing to get off my feet, but I stop short when I reach the dresser. In a dozen frames scattered across the surface are pictures of us.

Us swimming on our first trip to the beach.

Us at prom, dancing. Or rather, him dancing and me stepping all over his toes.

Us laughing in his pickup the day he taught me to drive a stick.

Us lying side by side on a red and blue checkered blanket after the first time we made love.

The same blanket that covers his bed right now.

My throat closes up, and the tears I avoided earlier come rushing back, falling silently down my cheeks. Cal steps up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting them gently on my giant rounded stomach. Leaning forward, he kisses my neck, just below my ear, and when I think I can't feel any more emotion, he whispers in my ear.

“I love you more.”

Turning in his arms, I look up into his bright hazel eyes. “How? How can you, Cal?”

Lifting me in his arms, he carries me to the bed, sitting me right next to him on the soft mattress. “I never stopped, Amie. I will never stop.”

“But . . .”

“No buts. I love you. You are the only woman I have ever loved and the only woman I will ever love, regardless of the fact that you are hard headed and stubborn as a mule. Now I need to know if you are ready to quit pushing me away and let me love you the way you deserve.”

I don't know what to say. I don't know how he figured it all out, and right this second, I don't care. I'm just happy that he still loves me and he still wants us.

Leaning forward, I capture his lips with mine, showing him how ready I am.

Chapter Fourteen

 

Callum

 

Fuck.

My cock jumps to attention with the first stroke of her tongue against my lips, waiting and willing for whatever the day may bring. Poor thing, he has been neglected for too long. Despite not knowing if or when I would ever see Amelia again, I wasn’t ready to move on with another woman, regardless of how many of them threw themselves at me.

The more games I won, the more pussy landed in my lap. It would have been a great thing if I were available, but even the thought of touching someone else made me feel physically sick to my stomach. Of course, I didn’t tell any of my teammates that. Otherwise, they would rag me day in and day out. Truth be told, I think one or two of them might have thought I was homosexual. It didn’t help that my roommate is flaming gay, even if he doesn’t want me to know. I mean, you can only catch a guy checking you out so many times before the truth settles in.

I still haven’t told him that I know. I don’t know the correct protocol for something like that, and Griffin has been a lifesaver for me. The first few weeks after I left Fair Grove, I was just going through the motions. He made sure I ate regularly and didn’t stay out getting fucked up every night of the week. Truth be told, without him, I don’t know where I would be right now.

I damn sure wouldn’t be slipping the sheer tank top over Amelia’s head and taking her full, swollen breast in my hand before dipping my head lower to suckle her darkened nipple into my mouth. Her back arches, pressing her breast closer to my waiting mouth. I readily accept it.

Pulling my mouth away from her beautiful, perfect breast, I kiss up her throat, causing a shiver to run down her spine. My lips gently kiss her forehead and then her cheek, across the bridge of her nose to her other cheek before I press my forehead to hers and smile.

It hits me like a ton bricks.

I have my girl back. After months of sleepless nights and reoccurring nightmares where I lost her over and over again, I finally have her here. In my arms, where she belongs. Closing the gap between us, I kiss her with every tightly controlled emotion rolling through me like electricity in a power line, traveling from my lips to her own. She caves beneath me, more than willing to let our passion take the front seat.

I groan as her tongue slips into my mouth. Her taste is so sweet. I pull in closer, pressing every inch of myself as close to her as possible till the only thing separating us is my daughter in her womb. Her soft, silky smooth chocolate skin glides against mine effortlessly as she paws at me, begging for more. More . . . everything.

"Oh, God," she moans into my mouth as I run my fingers down her chest to the waistband of her pajama bottoms. I stop suddenly, jerking away from the sweet delicacy I know awaits me, and work my way back up, stopping to flick her right nipple.

She growls low in the back of her throat, and I almost come in my pants right then and there. Her hand reaches forward to stroke me through my jeans, and now I’m the one groaning against her mouth. I roll her flat on her back, loving the way she looks laid out beneath me. Her hands grab desperately at my shirt, pulling and tugging it up inch by inch. I take pity on her and snatch it over my head, throwing it in the corner, forgotten.

She gasps loudly when she catches sight of my newest tattoo, a set of thick chain ropes draped around my entire upper body, ending just across my left chest muscle with a steel lock.

“When did you get this?” she asks, and I kick myself in the ass for taking my shirt off. The last thing I want to do right now is explain my newest addition of ink, but I can deny her nothing. Besides, she deserves to know.

“After I left Fair Grove, when I thought I lost you . . . I was
destroyed
. I felt like I had been ripped wide open, and I didn’t know how I’d ever move on,” I say, lying on the bed next to her, tracing the line of her jaw with my fingertips as she runs her hands across the intricate links of chain across my torso.

“Why a chain? Why here?” She asks, knowing that every piece I get has some kind of meaning for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t put it on my body.

“It was the only thing that could hold me together. Every week that I went back for more to be added, I got a little stronger until I was finally held together enough to put a lock on it. I guess it was my way of locking the pain up tight.”

“But this looks fresh. When did you get the lock added?” She asks, tracing along the red lines of my newest ink.

“Earlier today.” Her gaze snaps to mine questioningly. “I don’t know how long it would have taken if you hadn’t come back into my life, Amelia. Chances are, I’d probably be covered in chains from head to toe, and it still wouldn’t be enough time.

“You did this today?” she asks, verifying what she already knows, and I nod my head. Leaning forward, she kisses all around the red skin, offering extra healing touches in the only way she can. “After I have the baby, I want another piece, and I just decided what it will be.” Every other tattoo she has, we got together, including her first, a king’s crown on her ribcage above her heart, the exact match to the queen’s crown on mine in the same place. It was only right, considering I was her king and she, my Queen of Hearts.

“What are you getting?” I ask, leaning over her and trailing kisses along her shoulder and across her collarbone.

“A key,” she replies breathlessly.

“A key?” I ask, and then the meaning behind it hits me, and all I can do is kiss her. She wants to get the key to my lock.

“It’s perfect,” I say, and I mean every word. Biting her bottom lip between my teeth, I suck it into my mouth. “I love you,” I whisper against her mouth before trailing back down her neck, teasing all her favorite spots as I go.

Her hips come up off the bed, thrusting in the air, over and over. I'm about to lose my mind when she pulls my head back to hers. Her tongue assaults mine once again as her hands work their way down my waist. I feel her fingers slip beneath my waistband, and my cock jumps when she pushes them down. Her breath is as ragged as my own.

Pulling her as close to me as I can, I feel my erection straining against the fabric of my boxers, begging to be freed. She works her way back to my mouth, kissing me with such intensity, my whole body is ablaze. Pulling my mouth from hers, I ease my pants the rest of the way down, freeing my cock at last. All eight inches spring forward, ready to be reunited with his long lost love.

She pulls me back down, kissing me again. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing between us. I smile, kissing her deeply, and then pull away to begin kissing and licking down her trembling body. I get up on my knees and begin working her panties down her long, silky smooth cocoa legs, leaning over and licking her along the inner thigh as I do.

Scooting lower on the bed, I spread her legs, exposing her core. My mouth hovers above her sensitive nub, blowing warm breath on her clit. I take my long finger and rub it up and down her slit. A loud groan escapes her lips as I flick her clit. Slowly, I insert a finger, spreading her tight pussy open, and then move it around with a circular motion.

Sliding my finger out, I replace it with another, plunging two deeper into her wet folds. Her back arches off the bed. She’s close.

I can tell.

I flick my tongue across her clit with each pump of my fingers. “Oh my God," she moans, tangling her hands in the sheets. I lick slowly up and down her slit, sucking her swollen nub into my mouth when I reach the top of her beautiful, sweet pussy.

With each caress of my tongue, she is losing more and more control. Her hips begin to buck against my mouth moments before she screams out my name. Her whole body convulses in pleasure with the first orgasm. She looks at me between her legs and smiles. Crawling up her soft, creamy toffee skin, I take her mouth with mine once more, letting her taste herself on my lips. She sighs heavily, moaning deeply in the back of her throat, and then she begins to wiggle underneath me, ready for more.

My rock hard erection is pressing into her thigh while I kiss her. Every move she makes brings it closer to her entrance, the one place I want to be more than anything in his world, but I can’t.

Not like this.

Not at the risk of hurting my baby girl.

Leaning back on my heels, I take my cock in my hand, and after spitting on the tip, I begin to stroke myself. Up and down. Up and down. Gripping the base tight, I pump my hips back and forth, rubbing against her sensitive clit with each pump.

It drives her wild to watch me touch myself. I’m so close to coming right this second, but I want to wait.

I want to last for her.

I want to make her come over and over again, screaming my name until her voice is raw and tender like her pussy. Taking my cock, I lightly rub it across her sensitive clit. She’s still drenched in wetness. She grins, feeling the warmth of my hard cock press against her. She thinks I’m going to give it to her, and I am, but I’m going to give it to her how I want.

Rubbing up and down her slit, spreading the warm juices, I get her ready to accept me, and then, when I can’t physically stand it any longer, I slap my dick against her swollen clit.

She cries out, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve hurt her, but then she grinds her pelvis against mine in the age-old dance of acceptance.

“Do you like that?” I ask, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips. I suck her fingers into my mouth and then bite down gently as I stroke up and down, my cock sliding against her over and over.

“Don’t stop,” she commands, on the edge once again. Her hand grips a breast in each, twisting the nipples and pulling on them.

Hard.

“Oh God . . . Cal.”

“Yeah, baby. That feels good, don’t it, baby?”

Pulling back, I slap the head of my dick against her clit.

Once.

Twice.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” She moans, twisting wildly in the sheets. “Don’t stop.”

I refuse.

There is no place I’d rather be in this moment or any other . . . ever. Her body is my temple, and I plan to spend every available second worshiping every square inch of it time and time again.

Stop?

Ha. By the time I’m done, she will be begging me to stop.

Her breath catches just before panting out in a short gust. Rubbing along her slit, I let her natural moisture lubricate my shaft as I jerk my cock for her.

Slap.

I pop against her once and then again. Her body clenches, her nails digging into the mattress at the same time the first wave of pleasure washes through me. My balls tighten as I slap against her again, refusing to bring her to the edge and not push her over.

“Oh fuck . . . fuck . . . yes. Callum. Cal. I’m about to—” She doesn’t get a chance to finish. Her body convulses, shivers of pleasure traveling down her spine, and then the heavens open. Salty liquid sprays from between her thighs. It catches us both off guard, but I refuse to let her think that anything about what just happened is anything but perfect. Reaching between her thighs, I pump two fingers into her, curling along the inside of her wall, drawing out her orgasm. I feel her tighten around me as wave after wave courses through her body. I milk every single ounce of cum from her, letting it drip down my fingers, my arm.

“That’s right, baby. Let me love that pussy,” I grind out, bringing her back down from the edge of oblivion and loving every minute of it.

BOOK: False Start: A Football Romance
13.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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