Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (27 page)

BOOK: Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
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“Jensen!” I scream again, knowing it will do nothing until one of them is unconscious.

Jensen stumbles, falls to his back, Josh kicking him hard in the side, forcing him to roll and ball up.

Get to your feet. Get to your feet.

He does, taking hold of Josh’s ankle and pulling him down, both of them somehow managing to get up before Jensen spins and whips his leg around.

The blow is sickening. Josh cartwheels over in a crumpled heap.

Jensen goes to finish it, but I call out again and he stops, shaking and breathing hard.

Josh staggers, hand out in surrender and moving away. The whole right side of his face is wet with blood, Jensen’s no better, fat drops of it scattered over the concrete around them.

Josh holds his stomach, continuing to back away. He points to Jensen. “This isn’t fucking over, you hear me?”

Jensen remains quiet, seething, a gash above his eye wide and open.

Josh hobbles towards his car, getting to the door and pulling it open.

“You’re fucking dead,” he screams, slipping into the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut, pulling away with spinning tires. He burns straight through a red, smoke billowing from the back of his car.

It clears and Jensen turns to face me in full, touching his side and wincing.

I rush forward, take him around the shoulder. He’s covered in sweat, teeth clenched tight together. “Prick still knows how to fight.”

“Didn’t look like he left in the best shape.” I’m concerned. The two of them have always been so close. Yes, they fight like any other siblings, but this is different. This is all because of
me
.

Jensen stumbles, almost taking me down with him he’s so heavy. His head lolls, eyes closing.

I tug him back up and together we walk to the corner. “Come on,” I tell him. “Let’s get you patched up,” knowing full well no amount of bandages or antiseptic is ever going to fix what just went down.

CHAPTER EIGHT

JENSEN

Upstairs, I collapse onto Scarlet’s sofa, careful to catch the blood dripping from my head with my hand. I’m woozy, a little light-headed, but I’ve been through worse. Once Josh broke my leg when he pushed me off the roof. Pops gave him a real good beating for that one.

Fucking Josh.
He went too far, and I really don’t know if I can forgive him. The lies, the way he spoke about her. No, fuck him. He’s on his own.

Scarlet returns with a first aid kit, kneeling before me like I’ve pictured countless times before, the only difference is she’s still clothed. Her face is creased with worry. She reaches up to examine the cut above my head. “Jesus, Jensen,” she says, dabbing a cotton ball against it. “It’s really deep. I think you need stitches.”

I push her hand away gently. “No, it’s fine, honestly, a graze.”

She applies antiseptic to cotton and dabs it again. I flinch back hard.

She smiles, just a little. “And here I was thinking you were so big and tough.”

“Hey,” I smile back, the initial sting dissipating, “I’m a big marshmallow under all this muscle and testosterone, remember?”

“Promise me you’ll at least go to a doctor.”

“Maybe.”

“You boys are idiots, you know.”

“I do.”

“You looked like you were going to murder each other down there.”

Wish I had.

Concern comes over her features again as she works, concentrating with the effort, the cotton ball in her hand already soaked through. “Thanks, and I mean it. Much longer and…” she drifts off, but I know where she was going. I’d hate to think what would have gone down if I hadn’t heard her cry, hadn’t made the decision to come over this morning and work this out once and for all.

She touches my ribs and I wince again. “Tender?”

“Josh can kick
and
punch. What do you know?”

“He really did a number on you.”

“And I hope I sent him to the ER in return.”

She takes a strip of gauze and places it over the cut above my eye, taping it into position loosely. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. He deserves far worse for what he did to you.”

“He’s your brother, your twin.”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t mean shit. He touches you again and I
will
kill him.”

Scarlet lets it go, sitting back and looking over my face for which disaster zone to tackle next. “At least he didn’t damage your nose. It’s kind of cute.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Kind of?”

“You’re mildly attractive. I admit it.”

I lean forward, head spinning. “Mildly? If I recall, you were really jumping my bones the other night.”

She looks away and I know I’ve fucked up, but she turns back. “About that…”

I reach down and take her hand. “It’s my fault, but you’ve got to believe I was just looking out for you. I didn’t want to be something you regretted.”

“You? A regret?”

She bites her lip. “I thought maybe I wasn’t attractive enough, that you weren’t really into me.” She looks up shyly. “Are you, Jensen? I don’t care, but I’ve got to know.”

I say it as clear as I can. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know, Scar. You always have been. You always will be.”

“You wouldn’t think so if you saw me at 6 a.m.”

I laugh. “Morning, night, sick, healthy… You could be covered in toxic waste and still be perfect.”

“Charming.”

“It’s true.” I hold her hand tighter, desperate to get it all out now that the floodgates are open. “Do you know how many times I have dreamed about being with you, wishing you’d chosen me instead of Josh? It killed me to see you two together. It still does.”

“You’re serious?”

“You never thought about me?”

“Of course, but I was with Josh and you were…”

“Sleeping around, being an asshole. I get it.”

“When Josh and I started going out you sort of lost yourself, Jensen. You changed.”

“Well, I’m here to tell you I’m still the same guy underneath. I’m still someone you can be with.”

“Can you imagine what the press would say if we were together? They’re going to have a field day as it is with you two looking black and blue. If someone had been passing that alley…”

I take her other hand and pull her towards me, look her deep in the eyes. “I don’t fucking care. We’ll deal with it later. Right now, all I know is I want to be with you. Fuck Josh. Fuck the press.
You
are all that matters.

I cannot take this tension. It’s so obvious, but each time we come together like this I lose control. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again too scared to make the first move.

I want to kiss her so badly. I’d be betraying Josh, ignoring what he said, but so what? He’s proved he doesn’t deserve her. Why shouldn’t she be happy? Why shouldn’t
I
?

Scarlet comes and sits by my side on the sofa, our hands still together and our heads pulling closer and closer, everything else blotted out.

I’m so aware of my senses it’s insane. There’s a bird calling outside the window, a tap dripping in the bathroom.

Her mouth is on mine, warm and I’m sure I’m imagining it, but no. It’s real.

Her lips part, accept my tongue and take it deep into the hot cavern beyond. She lets me invade, melts into me as I dig my fingers into her scalp, never wanting to let her go again.

My chest squeezes tight, my cock painfully stiff.

I crush my lips against her, don’t care anymore about the twinge of pain above my eye, the way my ribs ache, because I have her, weightless, on top of me, everything else fading away into nothingness.

For the briefest second our mouths uncouple and she stares at me, panting and uncertain, but this time I know what I want.

I lower myself back. She straddles my hips while my hands search below her shirt. I pop her bra up and cup a breast, my thumb and forefinger rolling a nipple to attention.

My cock rubs against her leg through my jeans, begging to be let free and finally get a taste of what I’ve been dreaming of all these years gone by.

I draw up and pull my shirt over my head, pulling her own away and unhooking her bra with a single, practiced snap of my fingers. She glues her lips to me, makes me float and shiver in anticipation.

Bra-less, shirtless, I palm her bare breasts, her nipples waking further and her hips bucking and circling. The kiss deepens further, matures until our bodies are singing, sun-kissed by the morning light that comes from the kitchen window.

I push her back and hook my fingers into her jeans and panties, pull them down as one and hook them off the ends of her ankles, the plump, compressed lips of her pussy inviting in the extreme. I can smell her arousal, the wet aroma begging me to lap and lick, make her fucking beg for more.

She reclines back and waits, breathless, while I stand and strip my pants off, my cock tapping my chest in readiness. She takes it in silently, spreading her legs ever so slightly.

I dive between them and suck her clit softly between my lips, let it pop free and drop my tongue to split the hot seam below. She tastes fucking amazing, everything I imagined, already soaking wet and juicy, my tongue sluicing easily inside her, skirting the ring of her sex and pulling her tighter and tighter with every lash and stroke.

I hold her open, spread her wider and sink my tongue deeper inside, moaning aloud and savoring her arousal, loving the way she’s bent up off the sofa offering herself to me. There’s the lightest smattering of blonde just above her clit, her lips bare and round, inner petals fanned out and open with need. I dive deeper, narrow my tongue and seek out the pleasure locked inside her.

She lifts her hips higher, presents her pussy to my eager lips, animal instinct driving her. I breathe in her heat and scent, see the swell of her breasts atop her chest. I extend my tongue and lick up the entire length of her slit, gather her juices on the tip of my tongue and use them to coat her clit. My chin presses against the bottom of her pussy, soaked, butting inside her until she’s humming in anticipation.

She grinds against me, pressing my face into her crotch until it’s at wet as she is, smearing her arousal over my lips and chin, helping me find my way between the pink leaves of her pussy.

She calls my name, a whisper and then a command, her hands running through my hair and locking me to her cunt so I have no choice but to lick and lap and circle her pulsing clit until she’s seconds away from exploding.

“Jensen, I can’t…”

I keep going, hold her open and concentrate on her clit, keep my rhythm nice and steady until she tenses completely, gasps and comes, a flood of arousal following, her entire body relaxing.

Her eyes open and she draws me up her body. There’s a devilish grin on her face. “Do you have protection?”

I reach down to my jeans and take a foil packet out.

She nods. Holy fuck, she wants this.

I tear the wrapper with my teeth and sheath myself, giddy as a schoolboy as she jumps on top of me, my cock crushed in the tight vise of her pussy, her lips on mine and her hair hiding us completely in our own, steamy world. She slides back and forth on my pole, teasing me with her opening and laughing.

I could take her at any moment, sit back and fill her in one stroke, but I let her play, let her slide and rub against my cock until she’s moaning again.

It becomes too much.

With one arm I take hold of her and flip us over so she’s on her back. I move my hand between her thighs and trail wet kisses down her shoulder and neck, my shaft pulsing above the hot seam of her sex, two of my fingers pushing deep inside and kicking her up against my hardness and hand, her spine bowed.

“God, Jensen,” she moans, music to my fucking ears. I let my thumb circle her clit, light with pressure, teasing her and letting my fingers glide together in her slickness.

I lift my head and look down at her, see the bitten smile on her face and her flushed cheeks. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I bury and curl my fingers inside her, stroking her inner walls. She shifts her pelvis to meet them, opens her legs wider quietly chanting “More, more.”

My voice comes out in a growl. “Do you know how fucking sexy you are, Scarlet Matthews. Do you
really
know?

“Show me,” she purrs, unable to take her eyes off me. I let my own down, let them feast on every inch of her body from her perfect pussy to the open lips of her mouth, the swollen pull of her nipples waiting.

I draw my fingers out hot and place my hand on her waist, hovering above her before lowering myself into position, the head of my cock nudging against the slippery ring of her cunt.

I can see her chest beat from her galloping heart below, the way her breasts vibrate and quiver in response.

I’m so hard and hot for her, if I don’t get inside her soon I’m going to lose it.

I look into her eyes, search for permission.

She holds the side of my face, mouth open and breathing erratic. “It’s okay. I want you inside me.”

I don’t wait a single second more. I stroke so deep inside her I can feel her lips gripping the base of my cock, her velvety interior slick and hungry.

Filled, she gasps and rises up, mouth locked open. I’m sure I’ve hurt her with my size, gone too far, but she squeezes my arm and rocks forward.

I draw back and run inside again, her nails digging into my arm, one of my hands dropping to cup an ass cheek and shovel her towards me, impale her on my cock, and it’s so good, so right and perfect it surely must be a dream.

I ease in and out of her, nerves coming to life until I’m pounding with stronger strokes, grinding and seating myself, clenching to stave off my release.

I hold my mouth above hers and drive into her, move deeper with every thrust until she’s whimpering and moaning with distant and glazy eyes, caught in her own ecstasy.

You’re home, I realize. You’re finally fucking home.

My arms bulge holding myself up, her fingers gripping a bicep and eyes moving downwards to check that, yes, I really am inside her.

I dig my fingers into the perfect round of her ass and almost lose it, struggling to hold back as she rocks and pants.

The girl I have loved forever is finally below me, finally in my arms, and I am never, never fucking ever going to let her go or be screwed over by my fuck-up of a brother again. She’s mine now, and I’m going protect her with everything I have.

“Jensen, Jensen,” she gasps, hips bucking, our bodies grinding and slippery together, the taste of her still on my lips as I press them against her collarbone.

I stroke harder, deeper, and she squeezes back, my cock caught in never-ending pleasure until finally I cannot take any more.

I squeeze myself, so close to pulling the trigger. “Scarlet, fuck, I can’t—”

She bites into my shoulder. “Jen—” I feel it deep inside her, the grip and release, the convulsions that overtake her entire body until she’s flapping below me and crying out in climax.

BOOK: Stroker: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
5.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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