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He lifts an eyebrow. “I’d much rather celebrate with my girlfriend. In private.” Then he waves a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “I spend too much time at practice with those guys anyway.”
I laugh again. But there’s a bubbling, happy, hopeful feeling growing in my chest. Because he just said girlfriend. And because I can still feel the stares of everyone else in this stadium on us right now, and it sends a thrill through me to know that everyone knows we’re together now. And Keanen doesn’t mind. In fact, he seems to want them all to know.
So do I.
“Well…” I bite my lower lip, enjoying the way Keanen’s gaze immediately drops to take that in. “If my boyfriend wants to get out of here, then who am I to say no?” I reply, grinning.
He leans in to kiss me again, slower this time. When our lips part, my heart is beating so fast I can feel the pulse fluttering in my throat, right under my collarbone. “Let’s go,” he murmurs. Then he vaults over the fence in one move—who knew it was as easy as that?
I grin, watching him. At least until he catches my hand and tugs me along to walk with him.
As we head for the stadium exit, I spot Bette in the stands above us, surrounded by her usual cluster of girls. Yvette and Sara and Leah all wave excitedly. After a moment, even Bette nods, and I notice a small smile on her face when she looks from her brother to me. Almost like she’s happy for us.
Finally.
Then we’re exiting the stadium, and I don’t have any thoughts to spare for anyone else because Keanen isn’t leading me back to his dorm room across the wide open green, like I expected. Instead, he pulls me under the stadium steps, into a series of offices I didn’t even know were down here.
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing, breathless.
He grins. “I’m far too impatient to wait until we get all the way across campus.” Then he pulls me inside a small office. Although there’s a desk in here, there’s not much else. Just empty shelves, and one dusty trophy in a corner.
Keanen walks me backward, until my heels bump up against the desk. His hands slide down my curves, and he grins at me, so close I have to tilt my head all the way back to keep my eyes on his. “You look too good in that skirt,” he murmurs, and his hands slide down to my thighs, to the bottom of the jean skirt I paired with a ripped jersey in the school colors for tonight. “I didn’t think I could keep my hands off of you for one second longer.”
His hands slide up my thighs, and he leans in close again, stopping just before he kisses me, grinning, teasing. “You’re mine now, Missy.”
“I already was,” I reply. And then I reach up to slide one arm around the back of his neck and pull him into a longer, slower kiss.
As his tongue parts my lips again, his hands slide up my skirt, hiking it up around my waist. He reaches around to grab my ass tightly with both hands, which makes me gasp a little against his lips. Then he hoists me up and plants me onto the table in front of him.
In response, I wrap both of my legs around his waist, my free hand sliding over his jersey to tug it free from his pants. He’s still hot from the game, but it only makes me want him more. The way he’s riled up, smelling of sweat and heat and masculine energy.
He presses against me, and I can feel the thick outline of his cock through his pants, which are tight enough that when I steal a glance down, I can see him, too.
He grins, and shifts to kiss my jawline. His teeth nip at my neck, and I inhale sharply. “Someone’s just as thirsty as I am.”
“I blame you,” I murmur. Then my breath catches again, when he runs his tongue down the length of my neck. His hands shift, one sliding up to catch my shirt. “Watching you out on the field today,” I start, watching him again now. He pulls my shirt up, and I lean back to let him take it off. He tosses it over his shoulder, and makes short work of my bra after, his lips pressing against my collarbone, the dip in my neck.
I tilt my head back, arching my back as my breasts spring free of the bra, and he throws that the way of my shirt.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” I murmur. “The way you take control of the field…”
He grins up at me, his face positioned just between my breasts. Then he leans down to kiss, lick, and suck his way across one, his tongue pressing at my skin, swirling, tasting me. “I much prefer taking command of you, though,” he murmurs, just before he catches my nipple with his tongue, and sucks it into his mouth.
