Misconduct (FSCU Pitbulls Book 1) Page 7

  He chuckles when I moan my disappointment. “Where’s the fire?”

  “There.” My fingers shoot to my nub so I can reach my own high but he grabs my wrists and pulls them over my head.

  “My job.” He kisses me into a frenzied state with his knee at my core and shamelessly, I press against him.

  “Ryan… please.”

  “I want to enter you as you cum, sink into your pleasure up to my balls.” His sexy talk takes me to the edge and I suck in my breath.

  One of his fingertips slips between my folds, finds the perfect spot, and makes tiny circles.

  “Oh, oh…” I hold my breath, on the sharp edge of this enormous orgasm.

  “Mine. Only mine. Say it, Kira.” He whispers into my ear, the words a prayer.

  “Only mine. Ah, ah… “I clutch onto his shoulders, dig in my nails. and as he presses my nub, I shoot to the stars. I think I can’t get higher until his thick cock slides against my oversensitive bud.

  “Ryan!” My body convulses in pleasure as he slides in and out.

  When I open my eyes, his are glued to mine, intense, sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

  Chapter 11

  Ryan

  It takes all my self-control to inch into her and out. Each ripple of her orgasm is sweet torture and I savor every fucking one. A bead of my sweat drips near her eyes, black with desire. Never before, have I taken a woman so responsive. A fierce sense of protectiveness washes over me as I sink into her, letting her come down before I take her up again.

  Her pulsings stop and she whimpers when I slide my finger to her nub. She’ll cum for me again, though. Already, her eyes widen and her body follows my rhythm. I up the pace and nibble her lower lip.

  “I can’t, not so soon.”

  I smile and circle around, my cock sliding against her growing need. In and out, deeper and faster. She arches, I thrust, about to lose my mind. I’ve never been harder. Pulling out with a little sucking sound, I give her a moment to miss me.

  She waits, she moans, and as I reenter, she’s dashing to the end zone.

  “Fuck, Kira.” I dive into her, completely out of control.

  The center of my back tenses, my tailbone curls, and my balls fill. I’m so damn gone and yet hold on. Once she screams and shudders, I thrust into her bliss and find my own.

  After, I collapse on top of her.

  Pulling out, I tie off the condom and throw it away. Content we’re safe, I lay on my side and pull her into me. How the hell did I find a woman like her?

  “Kira.” I remember CJ’s warning.

  “Mmm?” She lifts her sleepy lids and gives me this heavenly smile, her lips swollen and lush.

  My cock stirs. “Did you mean it?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Her lids close, her chest rises, and she snores lightly.

  I take a nipple between my thumb and forefinger and when her eyes pop open, I almost forget what I was going to say. “I want us to be exclusive.”

  “I’m not the player, Ryan.” She shakes her head and laughs lightly.

  “Promise.”

  “Of course.” She looks a little hurt and I recall how she said she’d only been with one other man before me.

  I want to give her something, brand her, let everyone else know we’re together. Nothing else to share, I pull off my college ring, place it on her thumb and she giggles at the size.

  “I’ll have to get a chain for it.” Those ever-changing eyes lift, she kisses me, and I’m done for.

  Again, we make love, and sleep. In the middle of the night, my cock presses into her lovely behind as we spoon. Grabbing a condom, I enter between her folds. She hisses, turns, and we’re at it again.

  Sated, it’s noon before we stir. I call room service and order a bit of everything, not knowing what she likes. While I hop in the shower, my angel sleeps, her bright hair a curly mess on the pillowcase.

  I’m washing my hair with my eyes closed when the shower curtain slips open. Small toes touch my heels, then her breasts are at my back, arms around my waist. Soft lips kiss between my shoulder blades, I turn in her embrace, and step back. The shower sprays over my head, sending suds to her face.

  “You did that on purpose.” She laughs and sputters. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “Damn best morning of my life.” And I mean it. The only thing that sucks is this isn’t real. In a few hours, I need to be back on the field.

  We wash and I’d make love with her again but she has to be sore so I tell my randy cock to stand down. I’m saved from losing the argument when room service knocks on the door.

  “Leave it on the table.” I shout from the bathroom. “There’s a tip for you there.”

  While a young woman sets up our meal, Kira looks at her clothes crumpled beside the bed and moans. “I should’ve brought another outfit.”

  Wanting to impress, I pick up my phone, and text Jeff.

  Me: Still in hotel. Are there paparazzi downstairs?

  Jeff: No doubt.

  Me: Could you ask the hotel to send up a change of clothes for me? Her, too?

  Jeff: What size is she?

  I nibble her neck then ask, “Kira, what size are you?”

  “Six. Why?”

  “No reason.” I send it to my PA, wrap a towel around my waist and sit because we have some serious stuff to discuss.

  “Kira, after last night, I, ah… Shit, I need to be one-hundred percent on my game. “We can’t be together, like this, not for a while.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She grabs a piece of toast, peels open a tiny grape jam container, then nibbles, those ever-changing eyes on me. This morning, they’re misty gray, reflecting the hotel room’s walls.

  I expected tears, instead she spoons some eggs on her plate and puts some on mine.

  Maybe I wasn’t clear enough, so I start again. “I can only see you a few hours here and there until after Christmas.”

  “Okay… You plan on eating?” She’s so damn nonchalant, for a moment, I get a little pissed off.

  “You don’t seem too upset about it.”

  “I’m not stupid, Ryan. I researched it. I know what I’m getting into and you’re worth it. I’ll wait.”

  Damned if I’m not gob smacked by her response. Shaking my head back and forth, I dig into breakfast. I am the luckiest fucking guy in the world.

  As she chews, she fires off questions as they come to her. “We can text, right?”

  “Yeah. No rules against IM’ing.”

  “And phone calls?”

  “Not during practice or during a game. Other than that, sure.”

  “Thanksgiving at my house?”

  Whoa, she’s already thinking first down and the first kick is still in the air.

  I’m not sure if I’m ready for meet-the-rents. Still, the way she’s thinking warms something inside my chest and I can’t stop grinning. Having Kira in my life may be the best damn thing that’s ever happened.

  After coffee, she leans back in her chair and moans with a smile on her lips. “This is heavenly but I got to get back to my apartment. Reality calls.”

  She glances at her spandex dress crumpled on the floor. “I guess we’ll both be doing the walk of shame in the lobby. Won’t take too much imagination to figure we spent the night together.”

  I take her soft hand in mine across the table. “I got my assistant on it. He’s pulling in a few favors. We can look our best for a few shots in the lobby. You okay with that?”

  Her mouth turns down. “How about you go down and I slip out the back?

  I’d rather not have my family find out we’re sleeping together. My mom and dad are old-fashioned.”

  I keep forgetting she’s not like the other women I’ve dated. Sleeping with me means something to her.

  She pours another cup of coffee and hides behind the mug as she sips. “Can I ask you something?”

  I nod.

  “Is Jackson okay? I’m worried about Star getting hurt.”

  “Honestly, I
don’t know but I told Coach and he said he would deal with it.” She gives me a little pout, so I add. “I trust him, Kira. Speaking of being worried, are you still doing your journalism final on Mr. Hollywood?”

  “Knight? Yeah, why?”

  My fist tightens around my coffee mug. “His family’s got more money than God. Make sure you don’t end up in a lawsuit.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking. I can create a new Facebook page, invite only a few people, and stream my assignment there. That should count without getting me in trouble.”

  “Good to know.” I finish my eggs, my gaze glued to her face.

  Long lashes lift and those amazing eyes lift over her cup. “Are you worried how my story might reflect on you?”

  “It’s best to keep controversy down until after the draft.” Squeaky-clean is how Jeff put it.

  “You know, I interviewed some kids who graduated with Knight. He’s been paying someone to do his schoolwork for years… or um, using sex as payment.”

  My fists clench. “He offered to fuck you?”

  She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Yeah… Not my type. I like my men big.”

  Her grin is catching and as I think upon how she responded to me last night, my jealousy fades.

  “Have you ever had someone do your homework for you?” As she bites down on a toast, I think back on all the times I thought about it.

  “No.”

  Her brows raise. “Why not?”

  “Too damn proud, I guess. It was like admitting my dyslexia won and I don’t like to lose, not to anyone or anything… Still, sometimes I think some of my teachers let me slide.”

  She nods. “Because of your football status?”

  “Yeah. They may have turned a D into a C so I could stay on the team. That’s why I have a hard time with you going after Knight. It isn’t so far removed from me.”

  “Except his parents are out and out defrauding the university.” Her tone gets tight and there’s a flash of fire in her stare.

  “Or is the college turning a blind eye in order to get their funding? It’s a gray area, Kira.” My temper rises. She’s so damn righteous about everything.

  Her brows crease and mouth purses. “I suppose… still, it’s not right.”

  Chapter 12

  Kira

  Thanksgiving Break

  “Kira? Are you awake?” My mother calls, I check the time, and throw my pillow over my head.

  It’s not yet seven in the morning. Argh!

  She opens my bedroom door without knocking. “Get up sleepy-head. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Mmmphy Muphs-muphing.” I remove the sweet softness, the downy cushion, the symbol of my vacation and crawl out of bed.

  Barefooted, I pad into the kitchen where my older sister, Cherish, is already dressed and turning the handle of my great-grandmother’s meat grinder.

  “You do know God created food processors for a reason.” I find the largest mug in the cupboard, pour a gallon of coffee, and put it into the microwave to rewarm.

  My mother pipes in, way too cheerfully. “Not the same.”

  Almost awake now, I notice my niece’s absence. “Where’s Piper?”

  “She went off to the store with Alice. She’s going to show her how to make mincemeat pie.” My mother takes a pot off from a burner and replaces it with another.

  “Yuk? Why?” Third drawer down, under the dishtowels, I find an apron and put it on over my flannel pajamas.

  “Some school project…” Cher stops cranking, grabs the pot my mom just left, and pours steaming potatoes into a strainer in the sink.

  As a reward for getting up last, some horrid task is about to bestowed upon me and sure enough, Mom asks, “Can you shine the silver, honey?”

  Cha-ching. And the winner is…

  “Kira? You listening?” When Mom stirs cranberries on the stove, cloves and orange spices waft under my nose.

  “Ah-huh. I got it.” I rise up, haul out the wooden case, and moan at the blackened utensils.

  Oh well, at least I can make this chore last and won’t be asked to make green bean casserole.

  Cher eyes me. “Don’t use that cloth, get one of the rags, out of the closet.”

  I could start an argument about her bossy tone but it’s not worth the effort.

  First off, the closet is not where the rags used to be kept. Secondly, the towel I’m using is beat up enough to be called a rag, and thirdly, I am twenty-one, not a child.

  While I fume, Dad comes into the kitchen, and kisses the top of my head.

  “How’s my favorite middle daughter?”

  “Your only middle daughter.” Grinning, I give him a warm hug. “Happy Turkey Day.”

  “Same to you, honey. Glad to have you home.”

  “Me, too.” I smile at the Norman Rockwell moment and continue to shine.

  After a bit, Mom checks the oven, then peels some butternut squash. “I wanted to tell you before now, but waited until you came home. I invited Derrick.”

  The small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my jaw drops open, and I stare. “Wha? Why would you do that? We broke up.”

  “Pish posh. How many times have you two had a little spat? He explained everything and honestly, Kira, he’s family. He has nowhere else to go.”

  I know where he can go. Straight to hell.

  “Moooooommmm…” I look to my older sister for support but her eyes stay glued to the tiny streams of meat coming out of the grinder.

  Mom bastes the turkey and speaks into the open oven. “I’m not saying you have to get back together, just share a meal. Surely, you’re not so petty as to have him eat all alone.”

  Yes, I am.

  Cher glances over. “Don’t pout.”

  “Who’s pouting?” Alice butts in.

  She drops a grocery bag on the counter and comes over to give me a big

  embrace. “You? Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Tell you later.” In a way, this is my fault. I should’ve told my parents about Ryan.

  “Auntie Kay! Auntie Kay!” Three-year-old Piper jumps into my arms and all anger drops away.

  She asks, “Can I help?”

  “Don’t get dirty.” Her mother grabs an apron and ties it around her neck.

  It’s much more fun to keep on shining with the little girl’s help. Then, Aunt Em and Uncle Rob arrive around one with Gram. They bring my five cousins, their kids, and my great-aunt Katherine.

  While men gather in front of the TV with the kids in the basement, I pour my fourth glass of courage. Surely, I can handle a couple hours with Derrick? I moan, recalling my last disasterous conversation with him last summer, before I went back to school. He said I was too cold in bed and wanted to experiment. His suggestion was the final straw.

  I told him we were through. Still, I wonder if we’d still be together if I hadn’t met my quarterback. Would I have settled?

  My hand goes to my chest where Ryan’s class ring hangs on a gold chain next to my skin. Then, I check my texts but there’s nothing yet. He’s probably watching football and I’m betting he doesn’t have to shine silver.

  Finished, I put pickles into delicate crystal and add trivets on the kitchen table while Dad unfolds card tables for the youngest to sit. Maybe he’ll seat Derrick there, too.

  The doorbell rings and my Mom says, “That must be him. Open the door, dear.”

  I look to Alice, Cher, and even Gram but no one moves.

  Fine. Teeth grinding in the back, I grab the handle, and pull. Before I can step back, my ex wraps his arms around my shoulders and tugs me to him. Thank God, I turn my head or his wet kiss would’ve landed on my mouth.

  He gives me a surprised look and let’s go. “Hi Dad, Mom.”

  Mr. Charm, he kisses all the women while I stew, wondering if I should’ve opted for a McTurkey sandwich, fries and a shake.

  My sister, sensing my imminent escape shouts over the din. “Let’s eat.”

  I glower, she grins, and like music
al chairs, I find one not next to Derrick.

  Score!

  “Let me exchange places, dear.” My grandmother stands and what can I do but say thank you.

  While everyone watches, I sit next to the last person in the world I want to share Thanksgiving with.

  “Cheers.” My beaming dad raises his wine glass while Gram waddles to the other side of the table.

  Derrick clinks his glass against mine and scoots his chair until out thighs touch.

  I jump up to start serving. “Potatoes anyone?”

  “How’ve you been?” My ex lays a palm on my thigh under the table.

  Penalty, dude.

  “Fine.” I peel his fingers away and firmly place his hand back in his lap with fierce glare.

  “Are you having a good semester?”

  Seriously? We’re going to chit-chat? “Lovely, and you?”

  More for the captive audience than for me, he announces, “I just got a promotion. I’ve been made manager of the whole service center.”

  My family congratulates him, toasts to his good fortune and I pour a fifth glass of wine.

  “Seconds anyone?” My mom holds up a slotted spoon.

  “How about dessert?” We need to move this meal along, say our fond farewells, get this show on the road.

  Alice grins. “I made mincemeat pie.”

  “And pumpkin and apple. There’s whipped cream. Ice cream. Don’t get overfull.” I stand and take my plate to the kitchen, hoping others will follow suit.

  Upon returning to the table, Derrick drops to one knee. At first, I think he lost a fork but then, horror seeps into my soul. Like a dye inserted into a vein, it starts at my head, travels down my spine, and finally to my index finger making the sign of the cross to ward off evil. My eyes wide, I watch in what can only be described as an out-of-body experience. Unfortunately, I’m still conscious.

  No, no, no. He opens a fuzzy black box, exposing a small diamond on white gold band. “Kira, will you marry me?”

  Gram’s eyes water as do Mom’s. My two sisters hold their breath. Everyone is expecting me to agree. Maybe I should tell him later?