The Player and the Bet: An Enemies-to-Lovers College Sports Romance Page 12

  I still have a job to do. I need to keep Mace out of trouble. But he isn’t going to let it go. Even though he kind of started it by joking around with the guy about watching, he’s not going to let him get away with calling me a slut.

  I hear the driver stutter as he tries to get out of the situation. Mace is glaring at him like he wants to rip his head off. Mace is usually so happy and easygoing, but when he gets angry, it’s scary as hell.

  “I-I-I didn’t mean h-her.”

  “Who did you mean? If you were talking about me, that’s not going to turn out much better for you,” Mace growls in a low, deadly voice.

  “N-no. Not you. I-I… not sl-slut.” He’s stuttering so badly in fear it’s impossible to even understand what he’s saying.

  “Mace, it’s okay. Just let it go,” I say and put my hand on his arm.

  I don’t like that this guy called me a slut any more than Mace does, but I want to diffuse this situation so we can just get back to our hotel and leave this ugly thing behind us.

  Mace is so furious all his muscles are flexed. He’s like a dangerous, wild predator ready to strike. It feels like I’m touching granite when I place my hand on his bicep.

  “No, it’s not okay,” he says, then to the driver, “Pull over.”

  The guy shakes his head. He’s clearly terrified and doesn’t want to escalate this any further. He’s practically blubbering, and I’m kind of disgusted. He feels he can call me a slut and get away with it because I’m just a girl, but then turns into a coward when someone bigger than him tries to put him in his place.

  “Pull the fuck over. I’m going to kick your ass,” Mace growls. “Now!”

  The guy jumps and jerks the wheel with shaking hands. We glide across two lanes of traffic, and I reach out and hold on to the door for dear life as cars blare their horns at us. We narrowly miss crashing but make it to the curb, which he bumps against and pulls to a jarring stop.

  I jump out of the car and run over to the sidewalk. I practically kiss the ground because I’m so happy to have made it out of that alive. Mace gets out too, but he goes around the opposite side, to the driver’s door.

  “Get out,” Mace barks.

  He throws the door open and grabs the driver by the front of his shirt. He starts dragging him out of the car.

  “So you can call girls sluts, but you’re too much of a pussy to fight like a man?” Mace growls.

  The driver desperately grips onto the steering wheel to stop himself from being dragged out by the angry quarterback. The driver slams his foot down on the gas pedal. I gasp as the car lurches forward with Mace and the driver still wrestling half in and half out.

  The car swerves into traffic, and horns blare angrily. Someone is going to get hurt. I can’t watch—but I also can’t look away.

  Somehow the driver manages to get out of Mace’s grasp and he speeds away. The car weaves badly for a few meters before straightening out and the driver’s door slams shut.

  Mace is left standing in the street watching as the taxi speeds out of sight. I can tell by his body language he wants to chase after it, but luckily the traffic isn’t heavy so the taxi is moving too fast for him to catch up. Actually, on second thought, he could probably catch the car. I’ve seen how fast he can move while at football practice. The guy is like a cheetah on the field.

  His gray coat flaps out behind him in the cool November breeze. A car honks loudly as it’s forced to stop to avoid hitting him. The driver is freaking out, and Mace holds his hand up to acknowledge him, then walks over to me and out of the road. The car quickly speeds into the spot Mace was less than a second ago.

  He comes to stand over me, and I don’t know what to say. His fresh grass and cedar scent cuts through the smell of car exhaust and trash from a nearby dumpster. I just want to bury my face in his shirt and breathe in that fresh, manly smell. I must really be going crazy. New York City seems to have a weird effect on me. It’s like I’ve been a different person ever since we got here.

  It sinks in that Mace almost got in a fistfight with someone for calling me a slut. I can’t believe he did that. I don’t know what to say, so I just mumble, “Thanks.”

  He’s still riled up and shaking his head angrily.

  “I hate that. I hate when people shame girls for liking sex. There’s nothing wrong with it—actually, it’s fucking awesome when a woman owns her sexuality, and I hate when anyone tries to make them feel bad about that.”

  I look up at him like I’m seeing him for the first time. The muscles in his strong, clenched jaw are bulging and he looks so pissed off. I never believed he’d be capable of something like this.

  Without thinking, I stand up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He’s a lot taller than me—even when I’m on tiptoes—so I have to kind of drag him down to me.

  Our lips collide.

  23

  Sadie

  Initially, he’s distracted by the fight but forgets about it almost instantly and kisses me back with such intensity it steals my breath away and makes my knees weak.

  He wraps his arms around my back and pulls me close. His large hands almost immediately slip down to my ass. Usually I’d be more self-conscious about making out this hard in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, but right now it feels too good to care.

  Our tongues battle and our hands grab at each other desperately. He bites my lower lip and I let out a loud moan. I quickly slam my lips together to keep any other sounds inside. He seems to sense what I’m thinking, about how public this is, and drags me roughly into a nearby alley.

  I barely get a break before he’s pushing me against the rough bricks and kissing me so hard they dig into my back. I barely feel the pain because all I can concentrate on is how good he’s making my body feel. He kisses me like he can’t get enough, like it’ll never be enough, like he wants to consume every part of me, mind, body and soul.

  His hand slips down to my thigh and he grabs it possessively before moving upwards. He suddenly cups my pussy through my jeans and we both gasp. When he shifts against me, his large bulge presses against my hip and I can feel how unbelievably hard he is.

  “I want to bury my cock in this hot little pussy,” he growls and gives a small squeeze.

  I can’t believe this is happening. How the hell did we get here? We started the day off as enemies, and now we’re practically fucking in a seedy alley.

  But at the moment, I’m too turned on to care. And like he just said, there’s nothing wrong with a girl enjoying her sexuality. Mace may be an asshole most of the time, but he’s really, really hot. And despite any rational logic, somehow he wants me too.

  Besides, I don’t think I could stop this even if I wanted to, because with the way he’s kissing me, combined with the movement of his talented hand, I’m pretty close to coming.

  This doesn’t have to mean anything. We can go back to being enemies right after. It’s just sex. I’m just going to use him for his body—his really, really good body—and then we can pretend like it never happened. It’ll just be that one crazy night in New York when we both got caught up in the magic of the city, and nothing else.

  I cry out against his lips as my knees buckle. He presses me harder into the brick wall and it scrapes against my back, probably leaving scratches in the leather of my jacket. I start to see stars behind my closed eyes. I’m so close to the edge.

  Suddenly, he’s gone, and I practically fall to the dirty pavement without him holding me up. I open my eyes and look around in surprise.

  “What the hel—” I ask, but he cuts me off.

  “Come on.”

  He grabs my hand and drags me along behind him. We walk down the busy sidewalk, him in front and me trying to keep up with my much shorter legs. My panties are so soaked it’s making walking very uncomfortable, and my body is still buzzing from my almost orgasm. I was so close. Just a couple more movements from his rough hand, and I would have fallen over the cliff’s edge.

  Why�
�d he stop? I tug on his hand to get him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen and keeps speeding somewhere with purpose. Slowly, through the pleasure haze that’s fogging my brain, I realize we’re heading back to the hotel. I then pick up my pace.

  We burst through the lobby and head straight for the elevator. Mace doesn’t even acknowledge the front desk clerk who greets us. It’s Megan again. I wave sheepishly and she gives me a knowing, almost jealous, look.

  The second the elevator doors close, he’s on me again, pressing me into the wall and kissing me so desperately it steals my breath away and leaves me shaking like a pile of jelly.

  I vaguely hear the ding when the elevator arrives at our floor and suddenly Mace’s body is gone again, and then I’m being pulled through the fancy hotel hallway. He practically kicks open the door to our room and grabs me roughly.

  He pulls me against him and lifts me up so all I can do is wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me inside. I feel his rock-hard bulge rub against my soaking heat and I moan. There are only a couple of thin layers of clothing separating him from being inside me. And I want it. Right now, it’s what I want most in the world.

  He slams the door closed with his foot. I lean down and lick the tanned skin of his neck. He makes a grunting noise deep in his chest and the sound shoots straight to my core.

  “You’re so fucking hot. Do you know that? You make me so hard,” he growls in my ear. “I want to fuck your sexy body into the mattress.”

  The word “yesss” slips out of my mouth as a moan. He strides over to the bed and throws me down onto it. Immediately he’s on top of me, pressing me into the soft mattress like he did during the Halloween party.

  He kisses down my neck then bites lightly, making me shiver.

  “I’m going to make you come all over my cock.”

  His words produce another desperate moan from my lips. I want it so badly.

  He lifts up my shirt and unceremoniously pulls down one of the cups of my black bra, exposing my breast. He leans back and sucks in air as he looks down. Normally I’d be slightly self-conscious under this intense scrutiny, but right now he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.

  In the next instant, my back arches like I’ve been electrocuted when he bends down and runs his tongue roughly over my hard nipple. I cry out and grab his large head, running my fingers into his thick, dark hair.

  He reaches over to pull down the other cup and now both of my breasts are out, exposed to the cool air of the hotel room and to Mace’s talented, warm tongue. He takes the other nipple in his mouth and I’m practically gasping in pleasure.

  I feel his hands slip down and start to take off my pants. Yes. Yes. Yes. I shift my hips upwards to help him and then he drags them off my body. I’m left naked from the waist down and wearing only my bra and T-shirt, which are both pulled aside so my tits are out.

  Mace looks at my curvy body with so much lust in his eyes he looks drugged.

  “Fuck, I want to eat you alive,” he breathes out.

  He’s still fully dressed, and it’s not fair. I want to see all of that body he’s been giving me peeks of since we first met. I sit up to try to get closer to him.

  “Don’t move,” he commands.

  I freeze.

  He lowers his head slowly, and then I fall back on the bed because my arms give out when he sticks out his tongue and licks my dripping slit.

  He growls deep in his chest. “You taste so good.”

  He takes another taste and I cry out. Pleasure rushes through my body like a tsunami.

  I can’t believe that Mace Law, superstar quarterback, King of Winterford University, the guy every girl wants, is between my legs right now. And I can’t believe how badly I want this, but I do. I want him.

  I reach out and grab his head, pulling him up to me. We kiss and I can taste myself on his lips. It makes this feel even naughtier.

  He positions himself at my entrance, but he’s still wearing his pants. He rubs his hard cock against me. Why is he still teasing me? I clearly want it. So what is he waiting for?

  I reach down and rub my hand along his length. He shudders and gasps against my lips. I undo his button and yank down his zipper with a shaking hand.

  His big cock springs out of his pants and rests in my palm, so large and heavy. I wrap my fingers around it, but they can barely hold it. I don’t know how I’m going to fit all of this inside me.

  I stroke a couple of times, and I don’t know how it’s possible, but he grows even harder. There’s a drop of pre-cum on the tip, which I brush with my thumb.

  All of a sudden, he pulls back abruptly.

  We stare at each other, and I see the lust in his dark eyes. They are so glazed I can tell he’s barely holding himself back from fucking me with everything he has. But there’s something else there, too. Conflict?

  “I can’t do this,” he says in a hoarse voice.

  “What?” I ask in confusion.

  His face is a storm of lust and pain. He pulls away from me and stands up.

  He won’t look at me as he does up his zipper and straightens his clothes. I slowly sit up, feeling suddenly cold and self-conscious of my nakedness.

  In the next moment, he’s out the door. He slams it behind him without a word, leaving me alone in our fancy hotel room.

  What the hell just happened?

  I pull down my shirt to cover myself. I’m no longer turned on. I just feel cold and confused.

  He was so into it. I know he was. There’s no way you could fake that kind of passion. Maybe he just finally came to his senses and realized it was Sadie Edwards, the loser of Winterford, he was about to fuck. The girl with the nickname of “Toilet Paper”. The girl who comes from the trailer park. The girl who would never in a million years be good enough, or hot enough, for him.

  I walk to my suitcase on the other side of the room and quickly change into my pajamas. I feel so numb. It’s a jarring experience to go from insanely turned on one second to completely alone and rejected in the next.

  I climb under the covers of the bed farthest from the door. This whole place feels strangely hostile and uninviting now. I just want to go home and be in my own bed.

  When we entered the room, the bedside lights were the only lights on. I lean over and switch one of them off but leave the other on so if Mace comes back in the middle of the night he won’t wake me up. I don’t want to interact with him any more than I have to. But he probably won’t come back tonight anyway. He’ll probably get his own room.

  It takes me a long time to fall asleep. I’m too worked up, confused and hurt. I feel like such a fool. Eventually, gratefully, I drift off to sleep so I no longer have to think about what happened tonight.

  24

  Mace

  I couldn’t do it. And I don’t understand what the hell just happened.

  It all happened so quickly—but then at the same time it wasn’t quick at all. It’s never taken me this long to get a girl into bed. This must be a new record for me. But I always succeed in the end.

  I got Sadie into bed, naked and spread open in front of me like a slice of curvy heaven. Her pale skin looked so creamy in the bedside lights. Who would have guessed that under those rocker clothes she’d have such an incredible body?

  Her pouty, kiss-swollen lips were open and practically begging for me to slip my cock between them. And her big tits pouring out of her bra was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen, but what was more sexy was her eyes. Those green orbs, which are usually narrowed at me in annoyance, were staring at me with such desire it was intoxicating.

  I was so hard for her. I’ve never felt anything like it. At that moment, I wanted her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else in my life.

  I shake my head in disbelief. Her? Sadie Edwards. TP. The girl who hates my guts. The girl who annoys me more than anyone else in the entire world. The girl who thinks she’s better than me because she wasn’t born rich. The one who would rather study than party. He
r??

  I storm out of the hotel and cross the street. There’s still a lot of traffic, because it’s New York, but it’s beginning to die down for the night. I dodge the cars whizzing passed and head under the dark canopy of trees in Central Park.

  I need to get away from her and collect my thoughts—which isn’t like me at all. I’m usually an act-first-and-think-about-the-consequences-never kind of guy. What is she doing to me?

  I walk along the dark paths. There’s hardly anyone else in the park at this hour except for the freaks and weirdos, but I’m not too worried about them. They’d be idiots to try to fight me. I’m well over six feet and pure muscle from my time on the football field.

  I don’t understand why I couldn’t do it. Why I couldn’t fuck her. She wanted it—that much was very obvious. And I wanted it too. I wanted it so badly my balls are aching right now with my unspent release. I wanted to bury my cock up to the hilt in her soft, wet flesh. I wanted to lose myself in her heat and pound her into oblivion.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  Something didn’t feel right. Is it that stupid bet? But that’s the whole point of this trip. The whole point of bringing her here is to wine and dine and fuck her. Show her a good time in the city—then show her an even better time in bed. I was going to win the bet, then move on to finally completing my favor for the Org and getting her to drop out.

  It’s just sex, so why am I being such a fucking girl about it? We both wanted it, so who cares why I was doing it. Who cares that she’s just a bet. She’s treated me like shit ever since we first met, so she deserves to be used and tossed aside.

  What is she doing to me?

  I spend the rest of the night walking around the city. My feet take me down empty streets and passed tall buildings full of people peacefully sleeping.

  As the gray dawn starts to creep into the sky, I can’t avoid it any longer. I need to go back to her. I’m no less confused than I was when I left the hotel, but I turn and head back.