Chapter 5

Coop pounded the football into the dirt after scoring the winning touchdown—and then changed direction, running straight for her, the look on his face every bit as determined as it had been when he’d stolen the ball from the fingers of the other team’s running back.

Moira rose and glanced quickly at Pansy, who was laughing too hard at her expression to be of any help. And then Moira did the only thing she could think of with a large man bearing down on her, dirt and sweat clinging to his big frame—she shrieked and ran.

Laughter erupted all around them. But she didn’t pay anyone much attention. She ran down the field, away from the loud thudding steps trailing her, until the moment he grabbed her, his arm encircling her waist to slow her down and pull her back against his chest.

She leaned away from him—not because he was dirty—but because she was too turned on. Too aware of every hard bump and hollow, especially one steadily filling ridge digging into her backside.

“Now look and see what you did,” he whispered in her ear.

She snorted. “You might have tried walking toward me like the other guys did to their significant others. I wouldn’t have panicked.”

His warm breath gusted against her cheek. “Was that what you were doing? Panicking? And there I thought this was foreplay.” He tsked and bit her earlobe.

She tilted her head to the side to let him nuzzle her neck. “Do we have an audience?”

“Didn’t think that would bother you much,” he said, his voice a deep, dark rumble.

“Doesn’t if it doesn’t bother you,” she murmured and rubbed her butt against his erection, feeling a shudder roll through his frame. “We going for beer with the gang?”

“What do you think?” he’d growled.

“Guess the only question left is…” she said, dragging it out, “…my place or yours?”

His hands closed around the notches of her hips and held her snugly against him. “I’m five minutes away,” Coop rasped.

“I’m twenty.”

“Christa left me a bed. Not much else.”

“It’s all we need. Unless…”

“I’ve got condoms. And beer.”

Her laughter caught her by surprise. “Yeah, we’ll need those, but I was going to say unless you wanted me to bring a few things…to play with.”

His cock jerked against her butt. “Really want to wait that long?”

Restraints, a blindfold… She could improvise. “No.”

He moved away, slowly releasing her.

She turned, watching as he raked a hand through his thick, dark hair. His gaze bore into hers, so hot she would have sworn she felt steam rise on her skin. “I better walk in front of you,” she said, her tight voice croaking as she looked down to check out what had prodded her so insistently.

“Wish I could give it a pull,” he said under his breath. “Fucking hard…and your fault.”

“Mine?” she said, her mouth twitching. He was stalling the moment he had to turn toward the lot, waiting for the others to drift away and leave. And she didn’t blame him. With his back turned toward his buddies, only she was aware of his predicament.

And, of course, she wasn’t about to cooperate. She bent her head to get a good look at his expanding erection. She’d bet anything if she went to her knees now, he wouldn’t give a damn. His cock was hard and pushing up against the soft gray cotton, a thick, bulbous head tenting the fabric.

“Maybe you should go back to your car,” he rumbled.

“Maybe you should adjust it or something,” she said, still staring. “Doesn’t look comfortable.”

He snorted and turned his head left and then right. She knew what he was thinking. No one at his sides. Woods beyond the grassy field. Swallowing hard, he reached down, held the waistband away with one hand, and slipped his hand inside his shorts.

His breath hissed at the contact. His hand rose in a slow, subtle motion, stroking up and down, and then he aligned his cock straight upward, done with the adjustment.

But she quickly stepped forward and peered downward, her actions hidden behind his broad frame. He sucked in a startled breath as her fingers tugged to hold his waistband outward a little more. The fat, round head of his cock peeked up from the top of his fist—red and blunt, so big around she knew exactly what he’d feel like pushing up inside her. “I want that in my mouth,” she murmured, wetting a finger and then slipping her hand inside to rim the hot, silky skin of his cock head.

“Not helping,” he gritted out.

After giving his tiny hole a caress, she withdrew her hand and leaned to glance around his body. “Everyone’s loading up or gone. They aren’t paying us any mind.” She looked up. How did she tell him she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by his public reaction to her—and that she wouldn’t mind taking it a little further? Would he be into it? Holding his hot gaze, she whispered, “Kiss me. Now. Please.”

He made a noise, something between a groan and a growl, and shot out his hands to grip her hips and pull her snugly against his erection. She rubbed against it and ground her hips as he slammed his mouth down on hers. To her delight, he slid a hand beneath her tee and roamed it up her naked back. When it slid around her front to cup her breast through her thin bra, she thrust it against his palm, inviting his caress.

He flicked her nipple, making it tingle. It tightened and hardened more when he circled over the prominence. Holding her buttock to keep her pressed hard against him, his hand still on her breast, he slipped his thigh between her legs.

The brush of thick terry against her bare inner thighs, the press of a rigid thigh against her sex, was intoxicating. Every bit as mind-blowing as the kiss he gave her. His tongue snuck between her lips and rimmed her teeth. He hardened his tongue and thrust it inside, fucking her mouth with shallow, straight plunges that told her exactly what he wanted to do to her pussy.

Good God, they had on too many clothes. She clamped her thighs around his and rode it, but it was all one big hairy tease. She jerked back her head. “Your place,” she gasped. “Your car. Somewhere we won’t get arrested.”

His knowing smirk didn’t annoy her. He’d earned the right to gloat. She’d wondered if he could do public displays, and he’d given her back something sexier than any illicit fingering she’d ever gotten from a boyfriend. He’d gotten her so hot she’d forgotten where they were. If he pulled her up, she wouldn’t care if he humped her right there.

So here she was, edgy and needy. She was so excited she was afraid she’d be a useless lay because she’d come like a rocket. And she wanted to be the best he’d ever had. She wanted him to want her even a fraction as much as she wanted him.

Watching him play with his friends, watching as he’d been hammered time and again for his inattention, and then watching those spurts of power and speed had proven he was in some damn shape. All hills and hollows and oodles of stamina. And now, she knew how hard the muscle was cloaking that tall, angular frame. She wanted everything he’d bring to bed.

When they reached the parking lot, he dragged her straight to his car. “We’ll get yours later.” All during the five-minute drive to his apartment, his hand remained on her thigh, anchoring her there, claiming her in a way. Something that kept her hot.

Moira waited silently beside Coop as he fumbled with his keys at the apartment door. Her entire body felt tight and hard, and she shivered despite the heat.

He opened the door, shoved it wide, and then stood back to allow her inside.

She stepped over the threshold. The soft bottoms of her flip-flops snicked on the floor, the sound echoing in the empty space. She glanced left into a bare living room, dark blond bamboo floors that looked dusty, and a bundle of brown packing paper sitting square in the middle of the space. “Wow. She cleaned you out.”

“Doesn’t matter.” A muscle worked at the edge of his jaw, tensing.

She stepped toward him, reaching up to soothe it, hoping the tension was for her, not that other woman. “You said she left a bed.”

His gaze flickered toward the ceiling. “There’s not any sheets or pillows.”

She arched a brow. “Baby, they’d only get in the way.” Taking a deep breath, Moira turned and lifted her T-shirt over her head. She let it fall from a fingertip as she sauntered toward the wooden staircase, Coop on her heels. She left her flip-flops at the bottom of the stairs and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. Midway up the staircase, she tossed the bra over her shoulder and smiled when she heard a slow inhalation, knowing he’d caught it and was sniffing at her perfume.

She wagged her hips, exaggerating their sway even as she undid the snap of her jeans shorts and pushed them halfway down her hips. At the top of the stairs, she paused, let them drop, and then glanced over her shoulder.

He stared back, his glance sweeping over her ass, crushing her bra in his fist. Again, his sweatpants stretched over his erection.

“Which way?” she asked.

He jerked his chin to the left.

When she turned back and strode toward the door on the left, she felt fingers scrape the waistband of her panties. The elastic stretched and then gave, and he tore them away. Naked now, she walked faster as her chest rose and fell in deep, excited swells.

She entered the bedroom. There were no curtains hanging from the brass rods. Sunlight gleamed between the slats of the blinds. She noted the bed with its bare mattress and a closet with clothes spilling onto the floor. Again, she glanced at the bed. Although the top looked pristine, it felt dirty that they’d fuck on a naked mattress. Their fluid would sink into the pale cream fabric. And he didn’t care.

How did she want this to begin? She knew she needed him. Needed to feel the stretch of him quickly because her knees were shaking and her chest and arms shivered. But she didn’t want to be in charge. She needed him to take control.

Moira crawled onto the mattress and lay down on her belly. She pulled her hair to one side and stared at Coop. He was still standing in the doorway, curling his fists at his sides. The look in his eyes was predatory, feral. He needed a bath. Sweat glistened on his exposed skin. Dirt smudged his cheeks and arms. There were bits of grass on his clothes and hair.

The sight of him made her nipples so aroused she pushed up slightly to rub her chest on the bed side-to-side as she stared back at him.

At last, he moved, taking a step inside the doorway. “Aren’t you going to show me?” Coop said, his voice silky and deep.

“Show you what?”

“What you want fucked?”

She gasped. Her pussy spasmed, tightening so suddenly cream leaked. He was so perfect. Did he know? Was it deliberate—the voice, the words, the cool glint in his eye that said he would get exactly what he wanted of her? Or was he just made this way?

Didn’t matter, forcing herself to go slowly, she came up on her knees and swung around, giving him the view he’d had of the woman they’d both watched nights before. Once there, she put her chest against the mattress and reached between her legs to spread her pussy with fingers from both hands. Had she gone a step too far? Would he be repulsed?

“What do you want fucked?” he repeated, his voice a fraction deeper, raspier.

She dipped a finger inside her entrance and sank it to the second knuckle, then sank in a second.

“Anything else you want fucked?”

She pressed her face against the mattress. “My mouth, Sir.”

“Can I touch you however I like?”

“And wherever you want,” she said, breathing deeply as she gave him permission to do as he liked.

“The first time’s for me. I find I want to be…selfish.”

“I could come fast. Don’t worry about me.”

He was silent for a moment. “When did I give you the impression you could come?”

Her head came up, and she glanced back to see his expression. Was he joking?

No. His gaze was narrow, steely. His jaw displayed an unmovable edge.

Thrilled, more fluid slipped from her vagina.

His blue eyes darkened, and he knelt on the bed, reached for her hips, and tugged them, forcing her to scoot back to the edge of the mattress. Faced forward, she tried to sink her nails into the mattress, but there was no give to grip.

A nip to the crease dividing thigh and buttock made her jump. Another, higher on her ass, made her jerk, and she inched open her knees, wanting to give him more access, dying for a bite or nip to tender places.

“I don’t want you touching yourself. I don’t want you controlling anything.”

He said this while reaching over her for her hands. He tugged them down, placing them on the separate halves of her ass, and forced them to spread her cheeks.

“I want to see what I’m going to fuck.”

Moira moaned, embarrassed to have him staring so intently at her shaved pussy and gaping hole. But it was the kind of embarrassment that she loved. He’d allow no modesty between them. He’d take exactly what he wanted of her, no prohibitions. He was going to take her ass at some point, and she did love anal sex. In fact, just the thought of him sliding that thick, long cock of his inside her there made her groin throb. Her clit was hard and slick. Prominent. He couldn’t miss the rounded red bulb of it. But when would he touch it?

His hands roamed her ass, smoothing up and over, avoiding her hands and trailing moist fingers down her crack. She squirmed, unable to keep still as he explored.

When he moved one of her hands away, he pinched that side of her outer labia, and she wriggled, sticking her ass up higher and gasping for air.

When he patted away her other hand, she didn’t complain as he pinched that side, holding both lips apart. Something solid and pointed entered her. It was also warm and wet. Lord, it was his tongue, pointed and thrusting just as he’d taken her mouth on the field. He tasted her there, sinking inside her, pinching her labia so hard they stung. But dear God, the burn was delicious.

He withdrew his tongue, rolled his whiskered cheeks and chin in her tender inner folds, and she knew she soaked his face with her arousal.

That he didn’t mind was too apparent. His deep, inward breaths were accompanied by guttural groans. And then his tongue began to devour her in broad, wet strokes. Lapping and licking, flicking toward her bulbous clit. The moment he touched it, she nearly flew—his muffled uh-uhn was the only thing that held her back. She’d be good for him. Give him everything he asked. And then maybe he’d give her what she needed.

His mouth left, and his hands fell away. “Let me look at you.”

She reached for her sex and spread her folds.

The sounds of his clothing rustling and falling made her wish she could rub her clit.

“Roll to your back.”

She crawled to the center of the mattress, straightened her knees, and rolled, sliding her legs open because he would still want to see. Her gaze swept his nude frame. She liked looking at him from this angle. Loved the direct stare. Loved the jut of his cock from his groin—so thick and upright. Made for mounting. Her gaze traveled upward, past an eight-pack she wanted to explore with fingers and tongue and nose, up to his chest. Brown silky hair cloaked his upper chest, stretched between his flat brown nipples that displayed erect, tiny points.

There were scars. Smudged skin, slick and rumpled in places. Pink and brown against the tan. Burns. On his shoulder, a forearm, the outer edge of his hand. None terribly large, but a stark reminder of the dangers of his job.

He slapped plastic against one palm, drawing her gaze. He peeled the packet open and slowly cloaked himself in thin latex.

Moira slid her heels up, bent her knees, and lifted her hips off the mattress, raising her pussy to get his attention there where she needed it most. She cupped her breasts, molding and squeezing them, as much for her own gratification, because they ached, as to tease him.

And she let him hear her intimate sounds. The needy hum and her wispy whimpers. “Please, Coop.”

“Please, what?”

Her bottom lip thrust out. “Please…Sir.”

He gave a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t need that word.”

“I do.”

His gaze squinted, nearly closed, but he gave her a nod. “Call me what you want.”

“And you can call me things, too.”

“Like?”

“Cunt. Slut.”

“You like hearing that?”

She rolled her eyes, although she wasn’t really nonchalant. She was too wired, too needy. “I like the nasty sound of them. I’m not someone who needs to be degraded, not really. I’m not damaged, Coop, just dirty.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Baby, I can do dirty.”