Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories) (98 page)

I bobbed my head while covering the rest of his shaft with my hand.  He didn’t last long, which I would
normally
consider disappointing, but
this time,
I took pride in my skills.  His juices shot down the back of my throat, which I swallowed neatly. 

He doubled over on the blanket.  I could tell he
was spent
, but I wasn’t ready to call it a night.

I threw a leg over his abs, and he smiled
excitedly
as I did so.  I could feel my sex dripping all over his skin.  He grabbed my hips and guided them back to his pelvis. 

I could feel his manhood running along the length of my
slit
until his head felt my entrance.

He lifted his hips and thrust himself
inside
my willing opening.  I felt him fill me up inch by inch.  He felt like a giant compared to my ex, and on the first
thrust,
I had lost it. 

It was like my brain just clicked off and gave in to the excitement of the moment.  Only once he’d gone in as far as he could did he pick me up by the hips, pulling himself out, only to lower me back on top.

I felt like a ragdoll to his whim, and I liked it.  He sped up as he continued, pulling me down harder and harder with each passing thrust. 

I moaned with what little energy I had remaining, and I felt another orgasm begin to swell in the pit of my stomach.  It grew somewhere I’d never felt before, and as it did
so,
I started giving in to the pleasure. 

The explosive release of orgasm took hold of me harder than any orgasm I’d felt before.  It rippled through my back, and my tiny breasts, and my stomach.  I wanted to scream in
release
, but I couldn’t find my voice, it
was stolen
by
the moment.

Then I could feel him tense up while he was inside me, and his spurts shot straight into my welcoming sex. 

I collapsed on top of him, and neither he nor I had the energy to move anymore.

“It looks like a giraffe,” he said. 

I rolled off him and looked
to
the clouds.

“You’re full of it,” I replied.

4.

I turned my phone back on in the truck ride back to the school campus.  I wondered how much I’d missed during the night of passion.  Chris did little more than drive.

I missed almost twenty calls from Brad alone, along with just as many messages.  I hadn’t much interest in listening to what he had to
say,
but I did so
anyway
.

Most of the messages were about how sorry he was.  I wanted to forgive
him,
but I was still just too angry
to even consider
the thought.  Then the last few messages had him going off the deep end, talking about how much I owed him for being in the relationship. 

I just deleted anything that sounded
remotely
like him.  Then I got a message from Tiffany.

“You’ll never guess who I slept with, Chris from the football team. 
God, he was so dreamy.
  I wonder if he’ll be free tomorrow for another round.”

I clicked off the messages.

“Did you sleep with my roommate, Tiffany, yesterday,” I asked.

“She was your roommate?”

“Yes,
” I said.

“I did.  I called her after practice the other
day,
and it sounded like she was super excited.”

I wanted to be angry
at
Chris, but it wasn’t as though we were dating.  He even explained to me the other night that he was only here for some fun. 

“Well, at
least,
this was a one-time thing,” I said. 

“Really?  After all that, you don’t want to try a second time.  I
really
have to say that you were the best I’ve had since coming to the school.”

I blushed at the compliment, but I was still a little upset, so I kept a straight face.

“Chris, you’re just here for some fun, remember?”  I snapped.

“Yeah, but fun is best when
it’s shared
,” he replied with a cheesy grin.

I sighed.

“Listen,
Chris, this is the one and only time I’m going to sleep with you.  I have more important things to do with my
time
than
sleep with some
college bonehead that’ll stick his dick in the first girl that bends over.”

“That was harsh,” he replied.

“If I don’t figure out what to do with my life, then my entire college career is going to become a pointless waste of time.  I can’t be sleeping
around;
this is important.”

He went quiet for a moment.

“You should be a
counselor
because then you can yell at everyone all the time about how stupid they are and make all their decisions for them,” he said. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

“I don’t see where the joke was,” he started, “you spent our entire conversation at the bar trying to figure me out.  You did the same to your friend Tiffany when I met you guys at the coffee shop.  I might not be the smartest person in the world, but I can tell you would be
a decent
counselor.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong.  I did like trying to figure people out, and advising them.  I wondered why I’d never thought of it before.

The truck pulled up to my apartment that I rented with Tiffany. 

“Thanks for the evening, Chris,” I said, “maybe we can get some coffee and chat some other time.  Like friends are supposed to.”

“We’ll see.  I have a lot of girls bent over and
waiting
for me, after all,” he said with a laugh. 

I couldn’t stifle my
own
giggle at his somewhat obnoxious comment. 

With the door shut, he drove off. 

I wondered what kind of counselor I would be.

5.

I started thinking about being a counselor more and more as time
continued on
.  It had been nearly a week since my excursion with Chris.  Brad had finally stopped harassing my phone, which allowed me to
continue on
with life.  And, I finally got my things back.

I had begun researching what counselors do, and what kinds of courses would lead into that position.  To my surprise, nearly all of my classes would lead me toward that goal. 

I emailed the school counselors about what they
really
did
and all of them were incredibly helpful in responding to my requests.  In fact, one of them offered to let me shadow them for a day.  I was more than a little curious.

Then Chris called.

“Hello,” I said.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Sure, I could use a pick-me-up,” I replied.

The phone clicked off.  He wasn’t as much of a jerk as I had initially thought.  In fact, he was quite
nice
.  We’d continue to text back and forth for some time now.

I threw my blonde hair into a simple bob and put on whatever happened to be lying around.  I wasn’t in the mood to dress myself up for
Chris
since he probably had just slept with someone earlier this afternoon
anyway
.

Chris sat there waiting in one of the large plush leather seats.  I wanted to think that wasn’t attracted to him anymore, but that was a lie. 

I ordered my drink and joined him in the chair that sat nearby.

“Have you changed your mind, yet?” he asked.

“I didn’t know I’d had a decision to make,” I replied.

“Do you want to go for another round?” he asked.

“Oh, that.” 

I took a long sip of my coffee and tried to figure out a response.

“Chris, you’re
an interesting
man, but I can’t see myself with you.”

He tried to hide
a downtrodden
look with a smile.  I caught a glimmer of sadness brush past his face. 

“You’re not the kind of person I can just be ‘friends’ with,” he started, “you’re a great woman.”

I laughed. 

“I didn’t even know we were friends already.”

He leaned back in his chair, returning to the
cocky
man that I’d started to
know
.

“I think we’re something better than that,” he said.

“Oh?”

“But, I think you’ll need to figure that one out,” he added.

He had his charms, and they were incredibly hard to deny.  But, I didn’t
really
see a future with him.  It was as though I was looking at a beautiful possibility that I knew wouldn’t last.  He was too carefree; seeming to lack even a shred of dependability.

“I think we’re friends,
Chris,
” I said.

He looked disappointed as I said it.  I barely even knew the guy, he just
sort
of fell into my lap; probably a little too literally.

“Well, would you like
to at least go
for a drive for a while?  Maybe take your mind off school?” he said.

“I suppose,” I said, figuring I could use the distraction.

He pulled me out the door with him.  I probably should have said no, I didn’t want to get his hopes up.  But, I couldn’t help but say yes to such a simple request.

We drove for a while, talking about life and other random things that went along with it.  I vented more than I thought I would, mostly about Brad.  But, I think I spent more time trying to sum up my frustrations about graduation and my path in life. 

I couldn’t tell if he was listening at times, but he always had something to add to the conversation.  I started feeling a little guilty that I spent so much time rambling about my
own
problems. 

“So, why did you call me out for coffee like this,” I asked.

“I’m nervous,” he replied.

“You, nervous?  About what?” I asked, surprised.

“There were some talent scouts at the last game a
couple of
nights back.  I heard they were watching me pretty intently.  I worked my hardest, even running in a few plays on my own.  Not to be a show-off, but I did want to give them a good show.”

“That’s great news!” I said.

“They’re supposed to be calling today. 
This could
be my shot at going pro,” he said, his voice wavering just a tad.

I could see how much this meant
for
him;
he wore it on his face as though it were a mask. 

Then his phone started to ring.  He calmly pulled the truck over and pulled it from his pocket.  I only heard one side of the conversation.  Mostly just ‘yeah’ and ‘uh huh’, but I could see the news wasn’t good. 

His hands shook as he clicked off the conversation without a goodbye.  Without a word, he returned to driving.  I wanted to ask him what got him so worked up.  He didn’t seem interested in talking. 

“Do you
want
to
talk
about it,” I asked.

He slowed the truck down and pulled over to the side of the road.  Once we stopped, he jerked the keys from the ignition and stepped out.

I followed along, hopping down to join him.  We had stopped at what would normally be a sight to behold.  But, while we both stared out at it, I was the only one enjoying it for the sights. 

He hid his emotions as best he could, but it’s hard to hide
depressing
news.

“That was the coach.  He got a call today,” Chris said.

“Yeah, what did they say,” I asked.

“The agents called, and they don’t like my attitude, whatever that means.”

“What did they say exactly,” I asked.

“They
said I was
n’t a team player,” he replied, “among other things.”

“Well, maybe you can just work harder and
working
with your team, instead of trying to win all the games by yourself.  You said it yourself; you don’t rely on them as much as you should.”

He sighed.  It was
a heavy
, emotional sigh.  I maneuvered in and gave him a hug.  He looked at me, somehow wondering what I was doing, but accepting it all the same.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it,” I replied.

“Is this what you mean
about
having someone you can cozy up next to,” he asked.