If the headmaster believes I’d write him in a bad light, he’s damn right I would, but I’m not sure Warren would publish it. We aren’t that tight. I’m grasping at straws, but keep my face flat as I stare at Mr. Roberts. My eyes say Just try me. I may be young and small, but I will come at you like a mama bear if you mess with Romy.
The headmaster sputters, and before he can answer, I stand up and clear my throat. “Go to class, Romy. I’ve got this.”
She hesitates, giving me a harried, worried look, then scurries out of the room, her skirt swishing as she shuts the door.
Dillon stands with me. “Anything else, Headmaster?”
He blinks, darting his eyes from me to Dillon. He opens his mouth, shuts it. “Fine. I’ll compromise. Five days of detention after school. She’ll have to sit out this week’s competition.”
I’ll take it.
“Thank you,” I say to the headmaster as Dillon opens the door for me.
We don’t speak until we’re outside on the sidewalk.
“We work well together,” he murmurs. “By the way, you’re badass. The way you told Romy to go to class, the way you tossed in the reporter thing—”
“Why did you come?” My head spins, reeling from the confrontation and the fact that he showed up to help. I shouldn’t be surprised since he came to the tryouts, but this feels different.
“Because I care, Serena.”
My heart skips a beat. I lick my lips as my eyes dart over to him, taking in his chiseled jawline, those broad shoulders, his searching eyes.
“Where’s your car?” I ask, my voice low.
His breathing deepens. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Hmm.”
“In the back of the lot. My windows are tinted super dark. Like pitch black. No one can see a thing. It’s probably illegal for them to be that dark.”
“Lead the way.” My legs move faster, following him.
We reach his car and I fidget as he pops the locks. I jump in the passenger side and unbutton my shirt with fingers that shake. My skirt is off in five seconds. I leave my underwear and boots on, impatiently watching as he whips his shirt off and unbuttons his pants. He doesn’t get them down fast enough, and I pull at them, jerking his underwear and shoes off and tossing them to the floor. He undoes the laces on my boots and throws them over his head.
We don’t speak, our breaths fast. He crawls to the back and pulls me to him. I straddle his hips as he unsnaps my bra and sucks a nipple into his mouth, lashing it with flicks of his tongue then moving to the other. I roll my hips against his hard length, and he hisses.
“I want you so bad…” he says breathily. He kisses me long and hard, his fingers digging into my hips as my body clenches. “Think we’ll get suspended?”
“Might get arrested.”
“You’re a rebel,” he murmurs.
“You like it.”
“Fuck me, I do. Serena…” he groans and kisses me like a man who needs me to breathe. “You slay me.”
“Let’s do this fast.”
“Not too fast.”
“Make me come, football player.”
“My pleasure.” He rips my thong into pieces and I nearly combust right there. We fumble with a condom, barely get it on, and he sinks inside me. We pause for a second, both of us exhaling. He holds my eyes, slides out, and fucks me hard, using his hands to pull me up and down. He pants, his chest heaving as sweat dusts his skin. I can’t breathe as he bites my shoulder then presses a delicate kiss there.
His fingers dig into my scalp to get closer, but we can’t be any closer. I’m consumed with every nuance, his deep thrusts, my name on his lips, the flutter of his lashes. I take his mouth and suck on his tongue.
He palms my breasts, his fingers rolling my erect nipples. I moan, my head dropping back as my hips swivel to meet his, rubbing my clit against his pelvis. Incomparable passion roars like a lion in my veins.
He wraps his arms around me as we fuck. “Never. Get. Enough,” is wrenched from the depths of his throat as he yanks on my hair, pulling me to him for a scorching kiss.
This. Him. Us.
Is it crazy that I want everything?
24
Several days later, I park in front of Serena’s apartment. I’m exhausted and rattled from our away game Saturday against Ole Miss, which we barely won. I missed her in the stadium. Since the LSU game, the Gazette requested she only report home games.
Serena.
I twist my hands around the steering wheel as tension rolls over me. I think about her at the oddest times, when I’m in class, in the library, the locker room. I dig her quirkiness, her smirks, her complexity, the way she takes care of Romy, her banging body…
I’m wrapped up in her, taking each day as it comes. When I’m with her, I’m on top of the world, but when I’m not, worry creeps in. Like now.
The challenge… I worry it’s going to drive a wedge between us if she finds out. A long exhalation leaves my chest. She might even break up with me. Fear lances through me as I scrub my jaw. I can’t lose her; I just found her.
I kick the worry down and head to the front door of the house. Nancy meets me wearing jorts, an AC/DC shirt, flip-flops, and a straw hat with pink roses and ribbons that hang down the back. A button is pinned on the front and reads Don’t Hula Hoop Without A Bra.
“About time you got here! Who shows up late for a day trip with the granny—for her birthday? Go inside and get my beer.”
I laugh as I wave the dozen pink roses in my hand. “I brought flowers. Happy Birthday!”
She clutches them, taking a big sniff. “Good boy.”
“How’s
