Page 68 of Rumor Has It

“Go in me,” Wren whispered, her voice dripping with devastating need.

Becky wasn’t sure which of them moaned louder as her middle and ring finger sank into Wren. She shifted up in the bed, draping her body over Wren as much as she could without reducing her ability to move her wrist and hand. She wanted to be as close to Wren as humanly possible.

Wren’s fingers were still tangled in Becky’s hair and she used them to tug her in for a messy kiss. Becky liked the pull, the slight sting of it. The way Wren seemed to relentlessly want more. How Wren was absolutely panting into her mouth in time with the thrust of Becky’s fingers.

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Wren moaned, all notion of kissing abandoned. “Don’t stop, Rebecca. You’re perfect.”

Wren’s whole body flexed around Becky’s fingers, every inch of her pulled tight like a bow string.

“Come for me, Wren,” Becky whispered, her lips grazing the length of Wren’s neck.

With the softest, sexiest whimper Becky had ever heard, Wren’s orgasm washed over them both. Wren’s grip in Becky’s hair tightened, pulling another rough moan from Becky’s chest. Every cell in her body wanted to bite and suck Wren’s neck in response, but she wasn’t foolish enough to leave any marks—not when they’d be back in a crowded locker room with their team for a cooldown practice the very next day. So, she kissed and licked instead.

After every drop of Wren’s orgasm had been wrung from her body, Wren relaxed back into the mattress. She released her grip in Becky’s hair. “Fuck,” she whispered, her whole body trembling. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” Becky asked. She eased her fingers out of Wren and immediately sucked them into her mouth, settling her full weight down on top of Wren as she did.

Wren didn’t even wait before Becky’s fingers were fully clear before she pulled Becky into another kiss, determined to taste herself on Rebecca’s tongue.

Becky broke their kiss with a breathless laugh as she felt Wren’s hand snake down in-between them. “I can flip over,” she said, still giggling a little.

Wren shook her head. “I don’t want you to.” She grinned up at Becky, her brilliant green eyes shone gold in the shirt-darkened light.

“Then what,” Becky’s words were cut off with her own gasp as Wren’s fingers dipped lower, stroking gently over her clit.

A low moan rumbled from Wren’s chest. “Jesus, Rebecca. You’re soaking wet.”

Becky nodded, unable to produce words. Wren’s fingers felt too good, sliding deeper, gathering her desire. “It’s your fault,” she finally managed, her words muffled by Wren’s neck.

“It’s my fault that you’re so wet?” Wren asked, her voice rough and sultry.

It should probably be embarrassing, just how much Wren’s voice truly did for her. “Uh-huh,” Becky whimpered. Her hips rocked forward, seeking more friction.

Wren hummed with pleasure. “Yes,” she whispered. “Do it again, Rebecca,” her voice was a little louder now, a little more commanding.

Becky rolled her hips again at the instruction without hesitation, groaning as her clit found purchase against the entire length of Wren’s fingers. “Oh, shit,” she moaned.

“That’s it,” Wren said, before sucking Becky’s earlobe into her mouth. “Keep going,” she breathed.

And Becky did. Her hips canted into Wren’s fingers, each stroke a little shakier, a little more desperate, than the last. She wasn’t going to last long like this.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” Wren whispered, kissing her with surprising tenderness.

And with that, Becky came, hard.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

WREN

Thankfully, the team didn’t have anywhere to be until noon the next day. If they’d been required to leave their room before ten, there would have been a really good chance that they wouldn’t have made it. Any alarm that went off between their phones had been immediately silenced.

They hadn’t even fallen asleep until after the sun started to filter in through their curtains. It wasn’t until Wren’s stomach grumbled against the side of Rebecca’s face, that either of them finally stirred.

“Food,” Rebecca mumbled, as if Wren’s stomach had somehow signaled her own.

Wren let out a pitiful little harrumph sound. She didn’t want to move. Her whole body was a puddle—a very happy puddle—with Rebecca comfortably cuddled on top of her. “What time is it?”