The Game Plan (Game On 3)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He fists the sheets, pulling them from the mattress, as his hips shift and twitch.

I smile around his cock. Soon.

Torturing Ethan tortures me as well. I’m so hot my thighs quiver and my nipples ache. I curl over him, my palms braced on his thick thighs. He’s so big and hard in my mouth, my jaw hurts. I don’t care. I could do this every day.

I take my time, explore every substantial, glorious inch of him, cup his heavy balls and gently roll them in my palm. Oh, but he loves that.

“Give them a tug,” he whispers, sounding desperate.

When I do, his whole body shudders.

“Fi, Fi, I’m gonna…” He licks his lips and gazes down at me as if he’s lost the power of speech.

Oh, but I know. I want him to come spectacularly. The power in his body moves under my touch. It’s heady. And when he comes with an agonized groan, giving himself fully over to me, I fall completely under his spell.

Chapter Fourteen

Dex

Fantasy and reality are never the same. I’ve fantasized about Fiona Mackenzie’s mouth sucking on my dick more times that I should admit. Never once did I get it right.

I didn’t want to recall those vague, fractured memories I had of the only other girl who’d performed that service for me those many years ago. They had no place being anywhere near the vicinity of Fi. So I’d only had my imagination to go on.

My imagination is a weak bitch compared to the reality of Fi’s warm, silken mouth, the way her delicate hands glide over me, stroking and petting as if my pleasure, my need, is all that matters.

It cuts me off at the knees. I want to fall at her feet and confess my undying devotion. If this is what a blowjob reduces me to, I can’t even think of what finally sinking into her sweet body will do. I’ll probably have a fucking aneurysm or something.

As it is, I’m panting as if I’ve run thirty drills in a row. Sweat slicks my skin, makes my jeans damp and clingy around my thighs. I want them off. Everything off. Nothing between us now.

Truth is, I’m a fucking mess. My hands are clumsy and shaking as I reach for Fi, haul her up my chest so I can kiss her. She comes willingly, her lips parting, her tongue tangling with mine. She tastes of me, of herself, of us.

That we’ve become an us has my fingers threading through her hair, holding on tight. My kiss has no skill now. Just need. “I need you bare. I need to touch you.”

She nods, takes another kiss, fumbles to reach the hem of her sweater. I’m holding her too close, but I don’t want to let go. I whip off her shirt, then sit back to shimmy out of my jeans.

“I didn’t want to come,” I tell her. It sounds like an accusation, but it really isn’t. Coming in her mouth. Jesus fuck. Just fuck. She’d sucked me down, her hot mouth tugging at my dick as if she needed it to survive. It made me feel weak as hell and like a god among men. Because Fi had chosen me. Out of all prospects, she wanted me.

“You’ll come again,” she assures, nibbling at my neck. “I just took the edge off.”

More like unleashed my primitive side that says, claim her now and do it hard. Only I can’t seem to control my limbs. Hell, my cock is rising again. I’m pretty sure hard and ready is going to be its go-to state for days.

She’s laughing now, her voice all soft and husky. I know it’s because I’m stuck in my jeans, the fabric snagged on my ankles. Fi reaches out and pulls me free. I’m naked, and she’s not. This needs to be rectified.

“Off.” One, swift tug and her skinny little jeans are sailing across the room.

“Whoa, Big Guy,” she says with another laugh, her green eyes dancing. “Hold on a sec.”

I’ve been holding on for twenty-four years. But I take a breath, make myself calm. Whatever Fi wants, I’ll give her.

Swallowing with difficulty, I sit up, pressing my fists against my thighs so I don’t reach for her. Because she’s lovely, sitting there in her lacy pink bra and panties.

She ducks her head, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I have an IUD.”

“Really?” I probably shouldn’t say it like that, all shocked and shit, but I’m distracted, and it slips out. That sounds like something a girl in a committed relationship gets. I hate the idea of Fi having been in a heavy relationship before me.

She gives me a look. “I know it sounds…extreme. But after Ivy…” She bites her lip and shrugs. “I just wanted to be extra careful.”

I nod because now I get it. Ivy and Gray got pregnant their senior year of college. It wasn’t planned, and then Ivy miscarried. It tore Gray up, and I spent many a night with him and Drew playing video games and basically distracting the guy. Later, when they were married and became pregnant again, Gray was a nervous wreck until Ivy reached her second trimester and he could actually see a sonogram of a live and healthy baby kicking around in her womb. I can imagine Fi witnessed a lot of Ivy’s pain as well.

Gently, I rest my hand on her bare thigh and rub it. “Okay.”

Fi puts her hand on mine. “I’m clean. Got tested after my last boyfriend. I have an email of my results.” She moves to reach for her phone but I stop her with a touch to her shoulder.

“I believe you.”

Oddly, she frowns. “You shouldn’t. Don’t believe what any girl tells you out of hand. There are too many liars and cheats gunning for professional athletes. Hell, you should check to make sure I have an IUD—”

I kiss her. No tongue, just a pressing of my lips to hers to stop her word spew. She blinks up at me when I pull away.