Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

DANE

T wo steps inside her apartment, I jerk off her pants. The button bounces on the faux hardwood floor. I snap the clasp of her bra, and she snakes her arms out of it, and it falls between us.

"Grans needs to hem this. It's too long." My voice is dark and full of need.

She bunches it up in her hands and twists the fabric, pulling until it's knotted just below the apex of her thighs. I take her finger and spin her around like we're dancing. My heart races as I slam her chest against mine, feeling the strong connection while I hum the song we'll sing together at our own wedding. With every step and sway, a chemical reaction takes place.

There's a hunger in her eyes, and I know she sees the same in mine. I pin her against the wall, kissing her, while shoving her panties down her legs, then bending down to slip her feet through. I pick up the little bit of lace and smell her sweet scent. "Damn, Lettie, part of me wants to take it slow, and the other part wants to ruin your pussy for anyone else."

My fingers graze her center, then I turn her around with her hands on the wall, looking at her ass.

"Ruin me," she says, already breathless, and she pushes her ass out so that my jersey shows the round crescents of her butt welcoming me home.

"Fuck, baby, I thought you were gonna want missionary all the time. And even then I wouldn't trade you for any other fucking girl on the planet. My beautiful girlfriend who likes it dirty."

"I'm waiting." She takes one hand and lifts the jersey onto the small of her back.

My hands move quickly from back to front, lathering my hand in her juices. I finger her from the back with one hand and reach around to work her clit with my other hand. She comes in minutes.

I sit her spread eagle on the couch and dare her to move. Does Lettie listen? No. She pulls the fabric of the jersey up, showing her boobs, and works her nipple with one hand as her fingers travel slowly to her bare center. I swallow the chuckle as I think about the morning text whether to shave or not. Got my answer.

Stripping myself, I drop to my knees, and I say, "I'll crawl for that."

"That's really not my cup of tea. I love my man, strong, possessive, and your tongue will do the trick."

"I've n ever been as hungry as I am now." I drop to my knees and make her come again. She gushes on my tongue and then as we kiss, she moans enjoying the taste of my tongue. Picking up her limp body I ask, "Ruined yet?

"Almost," she says with heavy lids.

I carry her to her bedroom and lay her sideways. It's tall enough that I can bend my knees while standing on the floor. Rolling the tip of my head over her hot dripping center, I nudge into her. She feels so fucking good, and it's been too long since I've been engulfed by her silken muscles.

I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her up at the angle I need. And I get lost inside her. Thrusting harder and faster, she pants. I groan.

"You love it this way, don't ya, baby?"

"Yes," she says with a seductive whisper.

"You love my dick pounding you from behind, don't ya?"

"Yes."

I grab her hips and push down as I take our bodies in opposite directions, so we slam back together. Our skin slaps. Her curled hair frizzes, and I push it off her neck, stopping momentarily to kiss the wet hairs curling at her hairline.

"I love you," she cries. Her body begs me as she tenses, and I speed up, reaching around and pinching her nipple between my fingers as she whimpers my name. The floodgates open as she gushes so much, my own orgasm rips through my chest, and I spill into her, unable to stop.

"Complete ly ruined," she says, still out of breath.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

We fall asleep without cleaning up. When the sun comes up, I send her a text, take a shower, and make her breakfast. And when she's in the shower, I change her sheets.

All week, it becomes harder to find time together. She comes to The Stable, and we practice singing for an hour, but then I'm late to an autograph signing. On Thursday, I miss study hall so we can sing down at McShane's. It's closed during the day, but they're letting me use it, so we have microphones and a stage. I don't get in trouble for missing the mandatory study hall, but I receive a D on my test.

Then I'm late for lunch with Dad because I want to see Lettie at least once that day. He gives me a lecture about my responsibilities, and it looks like Lettie is distracting me. He asks me to take a step back with my relationship with Lettie.

I feel sick. I can't go back to being just best friends with Lettie. How can he think that's possible?

Of course, I refuse, but promise I'll figure out how to juggle it all.

Then he says, "You and Daisy are going to be on stage with her dad and me next week at a small fundraiser at the Opera House. I'm appointing him my chief of staff."

I drop my h ead to prevent him from seeing my eye roll. I scoot my chair back and walk out on my dad.

I make it to practice in the nick of time. How? Because Nick gets everything out of my locker and pushes me out of the locker room as I'm still putting on my shoes.

I'm wearing myself thin, but I don't know how to stop or what to change. I barely see Lettie as it is. Diamond Mine is back, and she's training about thirty minutes from campus. Jasper has her working on perfecting her three stride turns into the next jump. The biometrics from the sports analyst are paying dividends.

Saturday comes, and I don't even get to see Lettie before our first game of the season. At least she's coming with Mom and Dad. But I also get tickets for Brooke, Reed, and Caleb about ten rows up in lower arena. I use my favors with the Blue Coats, the people who usher people to their seats, so they can come court-side during warmups.

They come down, joining my parents and Lettie. Caleb takes my finger. "Do you want to shoot?" I ask.

He shakes his head aggressively, so I give him a ball, then carry him to the goal, and he throws it in the basket. My teammates give him fist bumps, and I take him back to Reed. "Thanks, man. Now I'll have to add basketball to the list."

I hug Brooke, my mom, and my dad who wears a scowl on his face. I guess he's still pissed I walked out on him. Ignoring it, I enclose Lettie in my arms. "I'm sorry this week has been crazy. Our schedules… we'll find more time together."

"It's f ine. Eye on the prize, Dane the Great."

I lean down. "You are the prize," I utter over the shell of her ear. "See you after the game." She gives me an air kiss. I assume because she's wearing lipstick. And now that I think about it, she's been wearing makeup all week in the limited time I've seen her.

The team we play is much better than the exhibition game. We have to play together and get on the same page. I hit eight three pointers, a school record.

After the game, Lettie says she's not feeling well and wants to go home. So, I tuck her into bed and drive to the drugstore to get some of that pink stuff, Sprite, and crackers. When I get back, she looks like she's been crying.

Wiping the hair away from her face, I ask, "Does it hurt that bad?"

Her body heaves like she's going to throw up.

"I'm staying. I'll call Coach." At first, she says, no, but I continue, "Under no circumstances am I leaving you tonight. None." She doesn't have the energy to argue with me.

I braid her hair, keeping it off her neck, and blow cool air over her skin, so that she's not hot. If she vomits, it won't get in her hair.

"Is that better?" I ask.

She moves her head up and down with her hand between her cheek and the pillow. I get up and turn on the air conditioning. Fall weather in Kentucky can be anything from eighties to fifties. It was in the seventies today, bu t when I'm sick, being hot makes me feel nauseated.

I change her into a yellow cami and slip into bed beside her, lightly rubbing her back until she falls asleep, wondering how I can get out of things this week so I can take care of her.