AllFreeNovel
Share Us
45
Camdyn
It’s early the next morning, and Willow’s dressed in leggings and a shirt skims her belly. I’m dressed in basketball shorts and a sleeveless shirt. We were stretching on the back deck of the lake house, and I couldn’t get my eyes off her. Sunlight streams over Willow as her chocolate-dipped dreadlocks tumble down her back, grazing her hypnotic ass. She’s powerfully formed. Once her pussy gets used to the mold of my cock, I’m going to fuck her so much harder. My dick twitches at the thought. I draw her mouth to mine for a kiss. “Run.”
A few seconds pass, and Willow licks her mouth as if seeking another taste. “You screwed me shamelessly all night,” she complains, a slight smile driving across her face. “Wake me up as if your dick is my energy bar. I’m not running, Cam.”
With the early sun softly beaming down on us, I massage her shoulders. “You will. I’m playing this bullshit role of good boyfriend. That means—”
“How, a whole twenty-four hours?”
“That means I support you.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I drown out her words, placing my mouth over hers.
* * *
An hour later, with me coasting on an old mountain bike beside Willow, she falls into the front yard.
She turns around on her elbows and ass, looking up from the grass. “You mentioned feeding me today. The sun’s officially out. It’s not warming anything, but it’s here; you see it. Feed me, asshole.”
The bike I found in the garage falls over as I get off it. I should’ve brought my motorcycle. Willow was a beast when I bucked up on her a while back.
I crouch down next to her, growing serious. “Lo, I’ll feed you in a second. I’m seriously asking, what are your goals after DuPont?”
“Where’s Hillary?” Her eyes zip past pine trees, seeking her overbearing big sister.
I sit on the ground. The night I suggested we should kill the girl from Willow’s old locker room, she’d told me about college. Willow got into Stanford but chose UCLA to stay near her family.
“Reach out to the recruiter. Tell ‘em you had a change of mind.”
Snorting, Willow rolls her eyes away from me.
“I’m positive the recruiter’s gotten cussed out before, Lo.”
She hefts a tiny laugh.
“I’m having a conversation with you, be serious.”
“I blew off everyone, Cam.” Willow jolts into a seated position, glaring at me. “Running was my thing with my dad. Now, it’s not. Hil encouraged me to reach out to my old teammates—only you know the truth.”
I grip her jaw. “Throw that bitch under the bus.”
“Michelle can eat my dust.” Willow curls a thin dreadlock around her index finger. “Alright, let’s have this convo and be done with it. I was team captain. What university welcomes a track player who lacks coping skills? Who breaks under fire—pun intended.”
“Fuck their opinion, Lo.” I grip Willow’s biceps, and then it dawns on me. “You’re embarrassed?”
“Uh, yeah. After the fire, everyone looked at me.” Her voice cracks. “Then I called UCLA . . . I said cunt. I never said that in my life.”
I position myself behind Willow in the grass and softly massage her shoulders. “You didn’t give a fuck in the moment. Keep that mentality, Lo. Screw everyone else’s opinion. You made something of yourself. Don’t throw that away. That’s all I’m saying.” I will hold a knife to your throat and have you call the recruiter. That’s how much I care.
“What’s your plan after DuPont?”
I roll the tension from my neck. “USC. Business Management. Open up my tattoo spot.”
“Oh,” she mouths. “We would’ve been enemies. UCLA . . . USC . . .”
I clasp her throat, turn her face toward me, and kiss her nose. “Stick with me. As an enemy, I would eat you for breakfast. As your boyfriend, I’d have you for an eight-course meal.”
Her pretty eyes flutter in my direction, and she smiles. “You make an amazing boyfriend, Cam. Let me ponder it for a moment, though.”
