Tackled: A Sports Romance (14 page)

C
olton stands
in the doorway of my bedroom, shuffling awkwardly. "I want to take you out."

"What are you talking about?"

"On a date."

"A date?" I ask, laughing. I slide my arms around his waist. "I already told you I want you to fuck me. I'm ready. Trust me. You don't need to be weird with the whole
date
thing. I'm clear on what this is."

He gives me a look like I just slapped him. "What are you clear on?"

"That this is just fun," I say. "It's a good way to lose it, with someone where there aren't any expectations, you know?"

Irritation flits across Colton's face. "Stop talking."

"You're not upset that I said this was fun, are you?"

"Will you just shut your mouth and come with me already?" he growls.

"I can't be seen in public with you anywhere, Colton – "

"If you don't get your little ass down the stairs and into my goddamn truck, I'm going to pick you up and carry you down there myself and then someone is
definitely
going to see."

"There's no need to get an attitude."

Colton pulls open the door to the truck, a vintage blue pickup truck that somehow seems exactly suited to him. Inside, I run my fingers along the dashboard. "This is yours?"

"It was my dad's farm truck," Colton explains. "After he passed, my mom wanted to sell it. She was on him to sell it the year before he died, wanted him to get something newer. I convinced her to keep it. I spent almost every waking moment outside of practice senior year of high school on rebuilding this thing."

As Colton maneuvers through town and gets onto the highway, neither of us speak. It's dusk, the skyline a reddish purple as the sun sets on the horizon, bathing everything in deep sunset hues.

"You haven't told me where we're going," I complain.

"Nope."

"That wasn't a yes or no question. It was an invitation to elaborate."

Colton grunts for a response.

"So it's getting dark and you're driving me out of town in your truck to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what with me?" I ask.

"That's pretty much it," Colton confirms.

"Just wanted to be clear on the situation."

"Glad I could help."

I sit back in the seat, watching as he drives out of town into the country, the suburbs quickly replaced by rolling hills and trees. He turns down a farm road and drives for a few miles to the top of a hill where there's a small clearing. He puts the truck in park and sits there for a minute, looking straight ahead. A couple of trees partially obscure the view, but behind them is the skyline dotted with city lights that stretch out for miles.

It's breathtaking.

"Sit here and don't move," he says, not waiting for a response before he gets out of the truck and goes to the back where I hear him take the cover off the truck bed and start moving things around.

I lean my head back against the back of the seat and close my eyes, mentally replaying the conversation in my apartment. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I hurt his feelings before when I said this was just fun.

But that's completely ludicrous. And I'm not naïve enough to think this is anything except just that.

When he pulls the passenger side door open, the noise startles me. "Way to creep me out," I say, laughing nervously.

He takes my hand and leads me to the back of the truck.

The truck bed is filled with blankets and pillows. A couple of candles on the sides are our only illumination out here other than the moonlight, now that darkness has settled in.

"I know I can't take you out anywhere, Cassie," Colton says from behind me, his voice thick.

"I'm not sure what to say." It's simple and romantic and… exactly the
last
thing I expected from a football player, especially one with a reputation like his. I turn around to face him. "I – didn't expect this."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should change your expectations," Colton says, sliding his hands under my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist and he deposits me onto the air mattress in the bed of the truck.

Colton leaves me there, going around to the front of the truck and turning on the radio. Pat Green strums his guitar and sings low over the speakers.

Then he crawls up onto the truck bed beside me.

"What I said earlier about having fun, I –" I start.

"Stop talking." His hand moves under my jawline, his thumb on my lips, silencing me.

I open my mouth because I'm going to say
I'm sorry
, but he stops me by putting his hand on the nape of my neck and covering my mouth with his before I can. His tongue slips between my lips, his kiss at once tender and insistent.

He pulls me onto his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, and kisses me for a long time. I cling to him, my hands yanking the fabric of his t-shirt, desperately wanting his skin on mine. When he stops kissing me, it's only to undress me, muttering something about my stupid clothes under his breath as he yanks my jeans over my hips.

He tosses his clothes somewhere in the truck bed, or on the ground, I'm not sure because all I can think about is the incessant throbbing between my legs. He pauses, naked in the moonlight, to look at me. "You're the hottest thing I've ever seen," he whispers.

"Shut up," I tease, and he growls, crawling across the makeshift bed until he reaches me, his mouth on my breasts at once, his tongue flicking over my nipples until I'm practically writhing with anticipation.

He kisses his way down my stomach, dragging his tongue on my skin down to my navel, and lower, but I pull his head away. "Not now," I whisper. "I don't want that. I want your cock inside me. Now."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Put your hand between my legs," I say, and he does, making a guttural sound low in his throat when he feels how wet I am. "Does that answer your question?"

"Shit, Cassie," he growls.

"I want to feel it," I whisper, wrapping my hand around his cock and guiding it between my legs. I groan as he rubs the head of his dick against my clit, and then further, coating his cock in my wetness.

"You're so wet," he says. "I can't stop thinking about your warm wet pussy on my cock."

He teases me until I can't take it anymore, until I'm a whimpering bundle of need and desire. "I want you inside me."

He pauses. "I've never done this before, Cassie."

"You're a virgin, too?" I tease.

"I've never taken a girl's –"

I stop him, arching up my back to press my lips against his. "I want you to take mine."

"Let me grab a condom."

I grip his ass cheek, pinning him against me. "I'm on the pill. And I'm clean."

"Cassie…" he groans my name. "I don't –"

"Oh." I stop short.

He cuts me off before I can say anything else. "I'm not hooking up with anyone else," he says. "Not since you. And I'm clean. I've just – I've never done it without one."

"We can use one if you –"

"If you're asking if I'd rather be bare inside you, the answer is yes," he interrupts, his fingers slipping between my legs. Heat rushes through my body in response to his touch, setting my core on fire with desire for him. He strokes me with his fingers, taking his time and bringing me to the edge.

"I want you now," I whisper. "Not your fingers. Not your mouth. I want your cock inside me."

"Shit, Cassie, say that again," he growls. He hovers over me, his hardness pushing at my entrance.

"I want your cock," I whisper.

He presses the tip of his cock against my entrance, and I moan at the sensation as his head enters me, just barely. This is how I came before, bent over the desk in the student center, the tip of his cock pressed against the entrance of my pussy. The thought makes me throb.

"I don't want to hurt you," Colton whispers.

"Fuck me," I say, moaning at the sensation of his cock entering me, his movements slow and gentle as he rocks his way inside me. A shock of pain runs through me, intense enough to take my breath away, but it's quickly eclipsed by the overwhelming sensation of him being inside me, filling me up. My pussy throbs around him, and I'm not sure whether it's more pain or pleasure but I don't want him to stop.

"You're so tight," Colton moans, his voice strained when he enters me fully, and then there's nothing left to say. He fucks me gently like he's afraid to break me, until I reassure him between gasping breaths that I'm okay.

Except I'm more than okay. He rocks inside me, his cock pressing against the most sensitive places until I'm nearly breathless, my fingernails digging into his back, my moans louder as I start to lose myself in him.

It's not painful anymore. It's all exquisite pleasure and I let go. There's nothing else in that moment except Colton.

Colton's cock inside me, bringing me higher and higher.

Colton's mouth on my lips and my neck.

Colton's fingers interlaced with mine as he brings my hands above my head, my fingers pressing into the back of his palms as he fucks me into oblivion.

He doesn't say anything, no dirty talk about my wet pussy or his hard cock. I think I lose my ability to formulate simple words and the only word left on my lips is
yes
.

Yes
as he thrusts inside me, looking into my eyes as I hurtle closer to the edge.

Yes
when he whispers my name over and over as he drives into me.

Yes, yes, yes
as I feel myself explode, the blinding white-hot intensity of my orgasm eclipsing everything else except the two of us. I hear Colton cry out my name, and then feel a flood of warmth as he comes inside me.

I lie there, my breath coming in short gasps, with Colton still inside, unmoving. Neither of us speak for a long time.

Colton brings his lips down to mine, kissing me softly. "That was…"

"Yeah," I agree.

Afterward, I lie on my back with my head on Colton's stomach and my feet propped up on the side of the truck bed, looking up at the stars. He's quiet for so long I think he might have fallen asleep.

"Why are you a virgin?" he asks. "I mean, you're obviously hot. And you're funny as hell. And you're smart, and –"

"Keep going," I say. "You forgot witty and charming."

"Why me?"

"You wore me down," I joke.

"Damn, I knew that was a good plan." His finger traces imaginary designs across my chest and over the tops of my breasts.

He doesn't push the whole why-are-you-a-virgin thing, but I want to answer anyway. "Five older brothers and a father who was a Boston cop – not just a cop, a Captain. Oh, and my parents are Catholic. I went to an all girls' Catholic high school. I didn't even have a boyfriend in high school."

"You were a Catholic schoolgirl?" Colton asks, pulling me tightly against him. "You're about to get some again. Do you still have the uniform?"

I laugh and slap him playfully on the arm. "I take that back. I
did
go out on a date in high school. Once. It was disastrous."

"Why?"

"I think I was in tenth grade," I recount. "It was my first date, so we were just going to the movies. He was from the boys' counterpart to our school. I thought he was really into me, but he sat with an empty seat between us the whole time, acted like he was going to shit his pants when he drove up to my house to drop me off. Turns out my brothers had put the fear of God into him before he took me out. He was terrified to lay a finger on me. Mom yelled at them because she'd promised that dad wouldn't scare the poor boy – and of course my dad didn't. But he put my brothers up to it."

Colton laughs. "That's terrible."

"Says the guy who punched someone for talking about wanting to nail me."

"I didn't like it," Colton defends himself, his voice intense. "Still don't."

"I had a boyfriend when I was a freshman in college," I say. "But, I don't know what happened. He wasn't super interested in it, I guess."

Colton runs his hand over my breast. "What kind of guy wouldn't be interested in having sex with you?"

I shrug. "Anyway, it never happened, and then it was just like this big thing. Like, the longer I waited to lose it, the more monumental it became."

"So once you saw me naked on the roof at my house, you decided you had to get all up in this."

"Yeah, it went
exactly
like that," I say, rolling my eyes.

We lie there and he doesn't say anything for a while. When he speaks, his voice is soft.

"I come up here sometimes to think," he says. "Found this place once when I was driving up in the hills. It didn't have any property marking and no one's ever been out here."

"It's pretty," I say. That's a massive understatement. Out here under the stars in the middle of the country, it's more than pretty. It's peaceful, like we're so far removed from everything else that none of it matters.

"It's quiet," he murmurs. "I used to go out in the fields on the farm when I was a kid. You stand out in the corn and it's ten feet tall. You can get lost in that shit forever. Coming up here is a little bit of a reminder of being back on the farm. I used to drive out here a lot last fall."

"During football season?"

"Yeah. When things would get crazy," he says. "It's hard to get any space, you know? You're pulled in a hundred different directions and everyone wants a piece of you. I know that sounds dumb, but –"

"It doesn't sound dumb at all," I say. "It was loud and crazy all the time when I was growing up. I liked to read more than anything, and it was impossible when my brothers were perpetually horsing around or stealing the heads from my Barbie dolls to use as ammo for their slingshots. There was this place I found when I was ten, following the creek down behind my house – you couldn't see it, this little rock formation, until you were right up on top of it. I never told my brothers about it because I didn't want it to become a boy fort. I'd go there a lot, even when I was a teenager, any time I wanted space to think."

"Hanging out with you has been a lot like that, you know," Colton admits, exhaling heavily. "The calm before the storm."