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“You suck me so fucking good,” he growls.
His words cause me to burn hotter.
“Fuuccckkk … Stop before I come.”
So, I do.
I let his cock fall out of my mouth and nearly come myself at the sound of his wet skin slapping against his hard abs as I move to straddle him.
Taking his cock in my hand, I rub him against my opening then slowly slide down, and I swear I could cry at how incredible it feels.
“Jesus … shit … fuuuccck …” Theo sputters, and I’m broken out of my moment only to realize I am in fact tugging on my nipples … in front of Theo.
“Oh, fuck no.” He presses my hands to my chest. “Don’t you stop.”
So, I don’t.
* * *
Friday October 11th
It’s been a rough week for Theo. Why? Because someone—Leah—uploaded a video of Monday night’s serenade, and it, too, went viral. Oh, and yeah, his coach found out and rode him and the rest of the team pretty hard.
He’s concerned that they’re going to play like shit because morale is down. To that, I read him the comments from all—yes, every single one—of his teammates that were positive.
At four fifty, I send him a text.
Me:
You don’t need good luck; you’re going to kick ass, and I’m going to be your biggest cheerleader.
Him:
I expect pom-poms and booty shorts after we hit Bleachers.
Me:
You got it. Kick ass. Love you.
Him:
Plan on it. Love you.
Chapter 22
Game Day
Theo
Friday October 11th
“You feeling good?” I ask Koa, who has been on the ice, in class, or in bed.
“I’m feeling pissed and angry. Sucks for me.” He shuts his locker and taps it three times. “But it works for the game. Folks are here.” I open my mouth, and he shakes his head. “Nope, we’re not going there.”
“From an hour before until the game is done, I don’t go anywhere outside of the arena. It’s me, my team, and the win. I was gonna ask if you were ready to fucking kill Rutgers.”
“You know I am.”
