I Bet You (The Hook Up 2)

“How?”

He leans down and takes my nipple in his mouth, and I groan.

A few breathless moments pass and the need between my legs returns, longing to be extinguished. I feel his cock hardening next to my thigh, so I wrap my fingers around it and stroke. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of him. “I love what you do to me.” My voice is rough.

He raises his head and looks at me, his gaze glittering. His chest heaves and a slight flush makes his color high. “I have so much to show you…”

I stroke his length, my thumb brushing over the wetness of his cock now that he’s taken the condom off.

“Like what?”

He moves until he’s sitting up propped against the bedframe with his hands on my hips. He grabs another condom and slides it on then shifts me until I’m straddling him. He guides his cock inside me, taking me by the waist and leading me until I get the rhythm.

He tangles his hands in my hair as I ride him, sliding him in and out, moving my pelvis until the friction rubs against my clit. I moan.

“Everything, Red,” he says breathlessly against my neck. “I’m going to show you the whole fucking world.”

The next day I’m awake by six and running on nothing. Both of us have shadows under our eyes as we hop in the shower. Together.

Afterward, while he’s styling his hair—it’s a process, he says—I go through my closet carefully for the perfect outfit. I’m not a virgin anymore, and for some reason that requires something a little extra. Maybe a scarlet A? I laugh under my breath.

With my best bra on, I pick a fitted pink Chi Omega T-shirt and a navy plaid skirt that’s the shortest thing I own. I pair it with some booties and we walk out of the house together. I feel high from the possessive way he looks at me.

He opens the door for me, and I blush and drift past him, catching a whiff of his male scent. Mmmm. Not Polo. I smile at him and he laughs.

“Sleep well?” he asks as he slides in the cab and shuts the door.

“Excellent.”

He grins over at me as he pulls away from the curb. “Nice dreams?”

“Pirate dreams.”

A slow grin works its way up Ryker’s face.

We’re quiet most of the drive, because hello, we just had sex. Spectacular, mind-blowing sexy times.

“Why are you giggling?” he asks, tossing a glance at me.

I bite my lip. “Just thinking about last night.”

“About how awesome it was?”

I scoot over to his side. “Meh, it was okay.”

He flashes his gaze over at me. “Liar, but I forgive you. Just promise me you’ll sit this close to me every time you get in my truck.” His arm goes around my shoulders, and I slide in closer. His thigh is pressed against mine and my insides melt at our proximity. How it is possible that I want him…again?

Once we pull up to the parking lot, I see my car and can’t help the smile that comes to my face. He did that. He went out and bought a tire and lugged it back to the Waverly and used his own tools to fix my car—and I didn’t even ask him to. It makes me horny.

My eyes jump to him, and he’s grinning at me. Still wearing last night’s shirt and shorts, he looks deliciously rumpled and sexy. “We’re here,” he says softly.

“I see.”

He rushes around to open my door and I slide out, gazing up at him. He towers over me, and I put my hand on his chest. His ocean-colored gaze is intense as it brushes over the features of my face.

“Thank you for fixing my car.”

“Thank you for last night,” he says then kisses me gently. My arms go around him and we go from zero to a thousand in a heartbeat. I’m squirming against him, pressing myself against his hard cock. He murmurs my name as his hand slips around my lower back and slides under my skirt. Precisely why I wore it.

His mouth moves down my neck as his fingers dance over the silk of my underwear. He hitches my leg up and wraps it around his waist, his hand gliding up my thigh to my panties—

A car horn blows in the distance and we both laugh under our breaths as we separate.

He smirks down at me. “I guess it’s not a good idea to make out right in the middle of town.”

“No,” I agree, clearing my throat. Then I see his neck on the left side, the side that was facing away from me during the drive, and I bite back a smile.

“What is it?” he says when I let out a giggle.

“I gave you a hickey last night.” His eyes flare as I lean forward and touch the purple bruise near the base of his throat. “It’s barely noticeable,” I say.

I reach for my purse and pop out my compact mirror to let him see it.

He laughs and looks back at me. “Your mark.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “That’s right.”

“So…when can I see you again?” His voice is husky. He rests his forehead against mine when I don’t answer right away. “Well?”

“Why?”

He looks down at me. “I want you. You want me. There’s nothing complicated about that.”

I want you. It does sound simple, and I may have given him my V-card, but if this is just a let’s-fuck-a-while kind of thing then I want to play it cool. I have my pride. “What is it about me specifically you want?”

He looks at me. Arches a brow. “Really? Did I not just make you orgasm three times?”

I feel tension building in my chest, and I battle it down. I’m not going to be sucked into my insecurities right now. “I’m not a jersey chaser and I want things clarified.”

“Oh.” He stills, a line forming on his forehead as his brow pulls down.

“Are you planning on…doing laundry with anyone else soon?”

“No. I’ve been waiting on you to figure out that I’m the hot piece you want—not Connor.”

I grin. “Then you can see me soon.”

“Soon?” There’s a hint of impatience in his voice, but I ignore it.

I nod. “Text me later?”

He agrees.

“Now kiss me,” he says, pulling me back into his arms. My hands are already curling around his neck, missing the feel of his, the hardness of his muscles, the scent of him that lingers on his shirt. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, our tongues tangling, and when he pulls back to end the kiss, my mouth chases after his, wanting more.

He tells me he’ll text me later, and with a kiss goodbye, I walk to my car, crank it, and drive away.

I glance in the rear-view mirror and he’s still standing there, watching me.

Ryker

Blaze is adjusting his shoes when I walk into the locker room. The place is mostly empty since most of the team is already on the field. I’ve just come from working on the sidelines with the quarterback coach and popped in to grab a new jersey.

“Is that a hickey?” he says, laughing.

I touch my neck and grin at the memory.

“You look radiant as shit,” he comments with an eye waggle. “Get lucky last night?”

I smile. I’m already jonesing to see her. To slide between those perfect legs and feel like I’m home.

I just shrug.

He walks in closer. “Oh, you’re being tightlipped. Nice.” He grins. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Who was she?”

“Hmmmm.”

“You didn’t come back to the dorm,” he continues. “And you never do that. I even texted you this morning to check on you.”