Page 52 of The Way We Collide

Hendrix

My eyes open, and the luscious smell of blueberries has me rolling out of the queen-sized bed in Haddy’s room.

I was really enjoying the movie last night, but training camp is kicking my ass. As starting tight end, I’m on the field half the game or more, which means I have to be able to go the distance. Which means my training is brutal.

I start the morning with two hours of squats, hanging presses, leg presses, and an assortment of other strength-training exercises, including weight lifting.

From there, I move to footwork drills and running. We spend a few hours working on catching and blocking before breaking for lunch, then I’m back at it with special teams training.

My muscles are sore as I stand, but it’ll pass. I’ll whip back into shape in no time.

Haddy’s crib is empty, and I pull on my T-shirt and joggers before stopping off in the hall bathroom to get rid of my morning wood and drain the vein. From there, I continue to the kitchen to find the source of this mouth-watering aroma.

The closer I get, I hear the inviting sound of cooking mixed with the even more inviting sound of Raven singing. She’s got a really great voice, and she’s singing some perky tune about the morning and loving Baltimore.

When I reach the kitchen entrance, I stop in my tracks, smiling as I take in the sight. Raven’s dark hair is styled in a messy bun on top of her head, and she’s wearing a soft-cotton, long-sleeved flowery shirt. She has on matching shorts with a little ruffle around the legs, and she’s doing a skippy dance on bare feet with her toenails painted bright red.

Haddy is in her baby chair watching her and chewing on a blue ring that has the head of an elephant on one end. She rocks in her seat to the music, making baby noises as her mother cooks.

It’s really cute until Raven dances over to the cabinet, reaching overhead for the plates and those shorts rise higher on her shapely thighs. Then it changes to something else.

My eyes drift to her round ass, and I lick my lips remembering her on her hands and knees looking back at me with hooded lids as I fucked her from behind.

Once again, my dick is hard, and there’s no way I can hide it in these thin pants. She spins around, and I quickly step to the side, hiding behind the wall so I can calm down.

“Hendrix, hey—good morning!” She smiles, putting the plate on the counter beside the stove before returning to pick up a medium-sized bowl. “I went to that grocery store site again…Erehwon? They had these blueberries, and gah! They’re so good!”

Thankfully, she’s too preoccupied by her cooking to notice me clearing my throat and running my hand down my cock while I think of cold showers, poopy diapers, cat vomit.

That did it.

“Do they?” I’m somewhat back to normal when I enter the room.

“Yes!” She sets the bowl down and skips over to me, holding a round, deep-purple fruit between two fingers. “They’reperfectly firm, and they’re like little blueberry explosions in your mouth. Try one.”

She holds it up, and our eyes meet. I lean forward, using my lips to pull it from her fingertips into my mouth. As I graze her fingers, her lips part. Her eyes widen, and she exhales a softOh!

Heat swirls in the air around us, and my semi is back. She quickly blinks down, turning and returning to the stove.

“I, um… ordered some for us, and I’m making blueberry pancakes.” I watch her shoulders shimmy as she quickly flips the three round cakes in the pan. “California’s mild climate allows the berries to mature longer, which makes the flavor richer.”

“You don’t say.” I walk over to the coffee machine and slip a pod in the slot. “It smells delicious.”

“These are for you.” She glances at me, giving me a cautious smile. “They say you’re supposed to throw away the first pancake, but I never do that.”

“Why would you?” I press the button, crossing my arms as I lean against the counter, facing her.

Her eyes drift over my chest and shoulders before she quickly returns her attention to the stove. She did that when I got home yesterday, running her eyes all over my arms and legs before becoming very focused on Haddy.

It makes me wonder how committed she really is to this abstinence rule. I’m sure she remembers how good we are together. It’s been almost two years, but I remember every detail, including her on my lap, throwing her head back and riding me like a pony at the fair.

Shit. I’ve got to stop thinking about these things. Turning away, I adjust my fly as I conjure images of maggots… nose hair… saggy old-man butt…

My jaw is tight, but I’ve got to kill this erection.

“It’s supposed to be the sacrificial pancake.” She continues talking, not seeming to notice my struggle. “Like you use it to test the pan or make sure the batter’s right. I think it’s a waste of a good pancake.”

My coffee’s ready, and I take the mug out, returning to where she’s standing. She quickly scoops three pancakes onto the plate and holds it out to me.

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