Football players are assholes. I know; I'm related to their king. My older, and annoyingly overprotective, brother Jake is the star quarterback at Santa Cruz High School. I love him but hate living in his shadow. Everyone worshiping the air he breat...
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"You're making this impossibly hard," I groaned into Ellie's mouth. In the cruelest payback to my teasing, her knees straddled my lap, and her breasts tickled my chest. I squeezed my hands into fists at my sides. She moved over me, and those soft lips swept a whisper of a kiss across my mouth.
Kissing Ellie was dangerously close to ruining me. Before her, a kiss was my enjoyment, a first step to the next level of physical satisfaction. Kissing Ellie made me want to slow down and appreciate how good kissing her felt until it became juggling sticks of dynamite while my hands were on fire. Her quiet squeaks and hums made my heart want to explode out of my chest. My blood surged faster from her sharp gasps for breath in between our mouths fused. A heady sensation coiled in my gut as our tongues connected and slid against each other. Ellie moaned when she straddled and rubbed my thigh, which shot surges of my blood into my gut. For the second time tonight, not coincidentally when Ellie was on my lap, my dick swelled on a mission to create an embarrassing sticky situation in my pants.
"I can tell," she teased with the most satisfied smirk and moved across me. The pupils in those beautiful brown eyes dilated with a mix of the same want that cursed me for this backfired idea. "Maybe you shouldn't have parked on the left side of the street."
"Maybe I like you climbing over me." My teasing earned me an eye roll. Ellie jumped down onto the sidewalk and left me with a stiff rejection. Literally.
I groaned at what every cell in my body now ached for. Fuck, her forward teasing was such a turn-on. She ignited feelings in me that made me want to snap my control. The internal aches of built-up pressure and the tented erection in my pants served as a painful reminder of how much time had passed since I'd felt this way.
"If you're having performance issues...Then I'll still love you."
The way her eyes stretched wide and lips parted, she hadn't meant those words seriously. But I knew, at that moment and again when she waved good night, that my feelings were painfully close to loving this girl. I'd never been in love, but I cared about her more than myself. That was part of it, right?
"Not the time to unpack that," I muttered.
Fuck, I thought I screwed up tonight when bringing up Ryder, but I was glad she was open to telling me the truth. I couldn't screw this up. Not after what she shared with me, and how it made me feel more than the need to fist out the insane pressure in my dick. By the hard-on I willed back down with ragged breaths, I did not have performance issues, but Ellie was more important than a one-night hookup. She was beautiful and sexy, not for her baggy sweatshirts and bare underclothes, but for her quiet self-assurance. Her body filled my mind with suggestions of what I could do with it, but she was smart, sharp, snarky, and... interesting. As I told her, she wasn't a short-term smash but a long-term investment.
At one point, I curled my hand around hers and watched her look at the ocean. The evening breeze dragged dark strands across her forehead. I brushed them aside with the awe of her being there with me.
