Playing Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (17 page)

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

My mind is racing without a single coherent thought. I plunge my fingers as far into myself as they’ll go, my thumb circling my clit, my thighs quaking.

“I want you to think about me when you come, Ava.” Riley’s voice sounds ragged. “I want you to imagine it’s me fucking you. And I want you think about how much better it’ll be when I actually do.”

I bite down on my lip, knowing I’m in danger of breaking the skin, but unable to care. The thought of Riley’s cock inside me, his hands on my hips as he drives into me over and over and over again until I’m left breathless and winded and coming and unable to take anymore… and then he keeps going.

I imagine feeling the slap of his skin against mine until finally he pulls himself into me one last time, emptying himself inside me, his come filling me up as I cry out….

My orgasm is on me before I can blink, coursing through my veins with a blinding intensity.

I try not to cry out, but an embarrassingly loud moan escapes my lips all the same, as white hot fire licks over my body, shaking me down to my very core. I jerk, my breath coming in pants, my fingers digging into the dark wood of my desk.

I’m still shaky and breathless with the intensity of my orgasm when I hear Riley’s voice again.

“Turn around.”

Blinking, I raise my head as I realize I can still hear the sound of him stroking himself behind me.

The thought makes my heart begin to pound all over again, as I turn to see him, his abdominal muscles clenched and standing out against the skin of his stomach, hand wrapped around his cock.

It’s huge
, is the first thought to enter my mind. It’s the first time I’m seeing it while it’s not covered by his underpants, and
wow.

Before I met Riley, I’d never given much thought to cock size. But now….

Riley’s is thick and long and gorgeous, stiff in his hand as he jerks himself off.

To me.

To watching me coming in front of him.

To the thought of what he’s going to do to me later.

I’m mesmerized by the sight of it.

Without thinking, I reach out to him. It’s almost like I’m in a dream, my post-orgasmic haze and the sheer unreality of having
Riley Knox
here in my room, making himself come in front of me.

I’ve never touched a penis before in my life. I’m a little hesitant, but when I touch him he groans his encouragement. I glance up into his face to find it flushed, his eyes half-lidded. He’s never looked hotter.

“
Yes
,” he says as my fingers grasp him, wrapping around him just below the straining head. He’s warmer than I expected, and harder too. Hard as steel.

I move my fingers a little — just a little, but apparently this is all it takes. Riley throws back his head and
groans
, and then his come is spurting out of his cock, covering my hand and a little down my thighs and jeans.

I simply stare down at it, unsure of what to do, but more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

I lick my lips. I’m not sure I can bring myself to raise my head and look Riley in the eye right now. I’m transfixed by the white spatters over my legs, anyway.

Holy shit. Riley Knox just came on me.

I don’t know what to do, so I just stay where I am, looking down, until I feel Riley’s hand on my chin, tilting my head up.

“Did you enjoy that?”

I can’t speak. I just nod a little.

“Good.”

I clear my throat.

“I, uh —
we
should get cleaned up,” I say. It’s the only thing I can think of
to
say. “Before this gets on the carpet.”

Riley nods, but I’m already turning away and shuffling toward the ensuite with my pants still down around my thighs. I grab a towel — and then, after a moment’s thought, another one — and come back out into my room. I hand Riley one of the towels, still not quite able to look him in the eye, before starting to clean off my legs.

“I kept my promise,” Riley says after an awkward silence as he wipes himself down. “We didn’t fuck.”

I suck in a quick breath.

“Uh, yeah,” I say. I pull my jeans up, re-fastening them. “I mean, that’s great, but I don’t think this counts as appropriate behavior, though.”

Riley doesn’t answer me, and when I glance up at him, he’s looking at me with narrowed eyes.

“You said you wanted it.”

And I did.

Good God, how I wanted it.

But now that it’s over, I don’t know whether it should happen again. Whether it
can.

Even if we were as discreet as possible, I can’t believe Murray, and therefore my father, wouldn’t find out.

And that’s if Riley even
wants
to do it again.

He said he does, but I don’t know if that’s because he’s just waiting to fuck me for real.

I swallow.

“Look, Riley, you know what the situation is,” I say. “What I want doesn’t really come into it.”

Riley shakes his head, before he drops the towel on the floor.

“Is that right?” he asks, and his tone is a little bitter, a little mocking. “So you’ll just keep on being a virgin until daddy says you can give it up to the right man?”

I flush angrily.

“You have no right to say something like that to me,” I tell him. “That’s
my
choice. Not anyone else’s. Certainly not yours.”

Riley exhales, running a hand through the hair on the back of his head.

When he looks at me again, his eyes are piercing.  

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he tells me. “Stop hiding behind the pretense that this is just a
professional
arrangement. You know it’s not like that anymore, if it ever was to begin with.”

I just stare at him. What’s he suggesting? That this is a
relationship
? Somehow, I can’t believe it. Riley Knox has never been in a relationship in his life.

And neither have I.

The thought sends fear slicing through me as I realize just how far in over my head I have gotten, and how quickly.

“Maybe you should go,” I say to him. “It’s not right, and I don’t really want to talk about this right now.”

Or ever
, I add in my head, though I know enough not to say it out loud.

“Fine.” Riley’s voice is low and even. “You keep telling yourself that.”

Then he turns, and disappears out my bedroom door.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

RILEY

You really blew that one, Knox. Well done. Well fucking done.

I knew I shouldn’t have said what I said about Ava not losing her v-card without her father’s say-so, but in the moment she had me so angry that the words just came out.

Angry, and nervous.

I shove the thought away. As if I’d be nervous around a girl. Me! All I have to do is raise my eyebrow at any girl and I can have her. She’ll follow me back to my room without so much as a second thought.

I can’t explain why I feel the way I do around Ava. She drives me crazy, and yet….

The image of her bent over her desk, her jeans and panties down around her thighs and her fingers buried in her pussy jumps into my mind again.

Like it’s ever really left it.

Like I haven’t been thinking about it every second of every day since I left her house in a huff.

Like I haven’t jerked off to it what seems like hundreds of times over the last three days.

And now, after all that, I’ve received a summons from Coach Jackson to see him in his office.

There’s a knot of tension the size of a basketball in my stomach as I walk across campus to the athletics center. There’s a hundred reasons why Coach might’ve called me into his office, but really only one right after I’ve violated the major rule of this arrangement with the Westwoods: don’t lay a finger on Ava.

Some part of me can’t quite believe she would’ve told anyone what happened, but another is almost certain that I’m on my way to get chewed out to hell and back, and fuck knows what else besides. Maybe Orson Westwood is going to have me thrown in jail for violating his precious virginal daughter, or something.

I wouldn’t put it past him.

The real kick in the nuts is that I definitely
would
have put it past Ava.

I don’t know why, considering she’s made it pretty clear she doesn’t want things to continue between us.

At least, that’s what she
says.

But she’s the one who can’t keep her eyes off the front of my pants every time we meet; she’s the one who flashed me in the car; she’s the one who jerked me off until I came the other day. The one who willingly bent over and fingered herself while I watched.

And it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

I don’t really believe she’d say something. I definitely don’t think she’d want to get me into trouble.

But maybe if what I said about her not popping her cherry without her father’s permission got her angry enough….

Without really noticing it, I’ve walked all the way into the athletics center and to the door of Coach Jackson’s office.

Moment of truth, I guess.

I raise my hand and knock on the door. After a moment, Coach Jackson calls out, telling me to come in.

He’s sitting at his desk when I enter, looking down at some sheets of paper. I take a seat without being invited to, crossing my legs and trying to look calm.

Coach doesn’t look up for a moment or two, before he sighs and lays whatever he’s looking at aside.

“Coach Thompson tells me you haven’t been concentrating in training lately. Anything I should know about?”

I blink, before slowly shaking my head. “Not really. I guess I’m just not with it,” I say cautiously. Whatever reason he called me in here, I’m not going to serve my head up on a plate to him.

“Well, get with it. Thompson says you’re wasting his time and everybody else’s. If you have something you need to get out of your system, you need to see the counselor and then get your performance back to where it needs to be. Eyes are on you this year, Knox. You can’t afford this.”

“I will, Coach. Sorry.” I mean it. I know I haven’t been performing well in training lately. It’s one of the many other things that, secondary to Ava, have been bothering me lately.

“Was there something else?” I ask, after Coach Jackson doesn’t say anything for a moment.

He sits back in his chair, running a hand over his face.

Here it comes.

“How’re things going with the… situation we discussed?”

He doesn’t have to elaborate. I know he’s talking about Ava. If he knows what happened, he’s playing it cool.

“Fine,” I say. I’m not going to give him any more than that.

“Is that what’s been occupying your mind?”

“No,” I say, a little too quickly. “It’s fine. I get to go eat at some fancy places, hang out with a girl. It’s no big deal.”

Coach looks at me, his eyes piercing.

“Because if it
is
what’s been affecting you, I can put a stop to it. I get it’s a stressful and unusual situation. If you want out, I can tell Murray Wilson, and that’ll be it.”

I feel my mouth dry up. A few weeks ago, I would’ve jumped at Coach’s offer. Hell yes, get me away from Ava Westwood and this whole fucked up scenario. It’s the last thing I fucking need when it’s off season and I should be out partying.

But now….

I
want
to say yes. I
should
say yes. Ava’s confusing as hell, and walking away now would show her I don’t need her mouthy shit, begging me for the D one minute, and then showing me the door the next.

I don’t even understand my own boner for this girl. Sure, she’s hot, but she has to be the single most infuriating person I’ve ever met.

“Knox?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say, trying to get my thoughts back into the present. “I, uh, I don’t know. It’s kind of cool, I guess.”

I don’t know how to answer the question.

Too quick to say I want to keep doing it, and Coach may suspect something.

But maybe that’s just my own guilty conscience.

Too slow, and I’ll have to admit to myself that despite everything, I don’t want to have an excuse to stop seeing Ava.

At least, not just yet.

“All right.” Coach is watching me carefully, but he seems to accept my answer. “You let me know if things change, though.”

I just nod.

I can’t quite believe what I’ve just done — thrown away a perfectly good chance to get out of this whole ridiculous situation.

Of course, I could just tell Coach I’ve changed my mind; actually I
do
think this is causing me way too much stress, and I want to stop.

But I don’t. I just sit there, waiting to see if he has anything else to say.

And feel relieved he doesn’t seem to know about what happened with Ava.

She didn’t tell.

I’ve been so caught up in wondering what to do that the thought only now just occurs to me. If Coach is sitting here asking me about how I’m feeling and whether I want to go on with it, it means Ava didn’t say a word about what happened between us. Otherwise I’m pretty sure my balls would be stapled to my forehead by now.

I don’t know why I should feel grateful. She wanted it too — she was just as much to blame as I was.

But for some reason, I do.

“Well, if you’re sticking with it — and I have to say I’m pleased with your decision — I have some news.”

I stay quiet, watching him, trying to figure out if this is the good kind of news, or the bad.

“Murray Wilson thinks it’s time to step things up a little with Ava — do something that might get a little wider coverage.”

“Like what?” I ask, suspicious. ‘Wider coverage’ sounds like it could involve some significant effort on my part.

“He wants the two of you to attend a fundraising event together. It’ll be black tie. You’ll need a tux.”

“I don’t own a tux,” is my automatic response. “Why the hell would I own a tux?”

“Just listen for a second, Riley,” Coach says, sounding irritated. “The fundraiser is for Heartwave — it’s a kids with cancer charity. There’ll be some big names there, and I want to make sure you’re not going to make an ass out of yourself. Remember that an open bar is
not
a reason to get wasted.”

I’m mildly insulted Coach would think about me like that… but then again, when have I ever given him a reason not to?

“All right,” I grumble. “No getting trashed at the black tie event. I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

“No inappropriate topics of conversation. That includes sex, politics, and your opinions on either. Stick to something you know, like sports.”

“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “Anytime you want to stop treating me like I’m five years old, that would be great.”

“Don’t give me any of your mouthy shit, Knox,” Coach says, his voice warning. “I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t know from experience that I have to. Don’t think your little almost-fight with Bryce Lennox didn’t go unnoticed, either.”

I stiffen in my chair. Would Reid or Omar have told Coach about that? I doubt it, though — and one of the things I’ve come to understand over the years is that Coach Jackson has eyes and ears everywhere, that can see around corners and into lockers and even things that haven’t actually happened yet.

“Yes, Coach,” I say, careful to keep my voice respectful this time.

“Good. As for the tux, take this.” He slides a pre-paid credit card across the table at me. “That’s got enough on it that you can rent one for the evening. I’ll give you the address of a good place that’ll have something suitable.”

I take the credit card, already beginning to wish I’d bugged out of this while I had the chance. This all seems like a lot of trouble.

But….

But Ava will be there.

Looking hot as hell in a full-length gown, no doubt.

And if she hasn’t told anyone about what we did, and hasn’t refused to attend the event with me….

… That must mean she wants to see me again.

I grin.

“Sure thing, Coach."