The Rivalry

“Oh,” I whispered. I put a hand on his shoulder, fisting the sleeve covering his toned bicep. My shorts weren’t tight, giving him plenty of room to work with as he pushed the crotch of my panties to the side and . . . really touched me.

It was a sauna in this car. I was panting and lightheaded, clinging to him while he rubbed tiny circles around where I was aching and swollen. What he was doing was hot, but the way he watched me? That was incendiary.

“Oh,” I moaned again as he sank one long finger inside me.

His lips moved, mouthing a word that looked like fuck. The arm supporting me tightened, keeping me upright as I went boneless. It felt so good, just the stretch of one finger filling me. My greedy body already craved more.

I groaned when he began to move. “God, yes.”

His deliberate pace was just right. He pressed his finger in and out slowly, working me until a second finger joined in. My mouth, which hung open, rounded into a silent “oh.”

Jay’s face was glossy with sweat, but otherwise it didn’t seem like the heat was getting to him. He was focused on me, his expression set. His fingers pumped faster, and I didn’t know where to look. His hand moving beneath my shorts was erotic. His powerful arm flexed and coiled as he thrust into me. His determined look said the only thing he cared about right now was sending me over the edge.

Orgasming with anyone other than myself didn’t happen, and I’d begun to believe I was doomed. Yet every deep thrust from Jay’s fingers convinced me otherwise. His thumb pressed against my clit, and bliss surged, a volcano heating in me, its violent eruption only seconds away.

“I’m so close,” I gasped. I may have said it out of shock, not as a warning to him.

His tempo kicked up one more notch, and I was done for. I flung my head back, crying out as pleasure overwhelmed me. It seized my core, crashing through me in waves that wracked my body and left me a shuddering mess in his arms.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered. “I can feel you coming.”

He stopped moving but left his fingers buried inside me, and I pulsed on them, flinching with aftershocks as my orgasm began to recede. Everything was tingly numb, and I drifted back into the moment, one labored breath at a time.

His fingers withdrew, trailing damply over the inside of my thigh.

Jay was grinning, proud of himself. I had half a mind to throw my hands up in the air and signal touchdown. I didn’t get the chance. He leaned forward and planted his lips on mine. This kiss wasn’t as passionate as the others. It was sweet, and romantic, and scary as hell. It threw me off-balance and threatened to send me tumbling down.

“You. Are. So. Fucking. Hot,” he said, sweeping his hand up and down my leg. My climax had turned me into jelly, and his gentle caress made it impossible to solidify. I swung my legs off him, and my gaze fell to his belt. More specifically, to the bulge right below it.

I’d barely brushed my palm over his zipper before the hurried words came from him. “You want to come back to my place?”

I paused. Yes, my body whispered. No, my head screamed. I wasn’t sure which one was louder. But when I thought about it, the opening strains of The Victors blared in my mind, drowning out my ability to think.

Jay’s face emptied of lust, and he straightened abruptly. He scrambled to extract his phone from his pocket, but it was too late. Michigan’s fight song hadn’t been playing in my mind.

It was his freaking ringtone.

Realization splashed over me, dousing icy cold water on my desire. He was a Wolverine. Those same hands that just made me come harder than I ever had, were the same ones that carried in the touchdown last year, costing Ohio State the game.

The hated “music” cut off, and Jay’s anxious gaze turned to me. “Sorry about that.”

It was a mood killer of epic proportions. I shifted in my seat, tearing my gaze away from him and fighting the urge to flee. I sat still as he jammed the phone back in his pocket, and I flinched when he placed a hand on my knee.

“Remind me to turn my phone off next time,” he said. Because it was the second time we’d been interrupted by it.

I’d been ripped from the fog of lust, and blinked my critical eyes at him. “What next time?”

He sighed. “Really, Kayla?”

I frowned. “I told you, this can’t work between us.”

“Seemed to work great a minute ago when you came all over my fingers.”

I wasn’t a prude and didn’t get easily offended. I’d had all sorts of things screamed at me by drunken college kids at away games. Yet, my mouth dropped open in surprise. I wasn’t used to a guy being so direct.