Page 123 of Tag

I’d seen her body in bikinis and a few times in nothing but a T-shirt and boy shorts.

It was nothing like seeing her tonight.

My head pressed against the cold, unforgiving slate of the shower wall, the water scalding my skin like liquid fire.

My hand was already wrapped around my cock, my fingers tightening, my palm slick with pre-cum as I stroked myself with a desperation that bordered on madness. The steam curled around me, thick and suffocating, as I let my imagination run wild.

I pictured her.

Stripping her bare, peeling her clothes off like I was unwrapping the most precious gift. Her skin would be soft, so fucking soft, like silk dipped in honey. I’d spread her out across my bed, her body trembling with anticipation. I’d worship every inch of her, every curve, every fucking dip and swell that she didn’t even realize drove me to the brink of insanity. I wanted to bite her. Suck her. Lick her. Claim her. Leave marks on her skin that she’d stare at in the mirror the next morning, her thighs still shaking from how hard I’d made her come. Again. And again. And fucking again.

My hand moved faster, rougher, my grip tightening as I imagined her lips—those full, perfect lips—wrapped around my dick. Her eyes would lock onto mine with that perfect mix ofshyness and defiance that made me want to ruin her all over again. Her cheeks would flush, her long, silky hair cascading down like a dark waterfall, framing her beautiful face as she let me shatter her composure, piece by fucking piece. I could almost hear it, the sound she’d make when I pushed her over the edge. A symphony of breathless gasps and whispered pleas, her voice breaking as she begged me for more. She’d moan my name, an invocation, a fucking prayer, as I split her open and showed her what it truly meant to belong to me.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my voice catching as the release tore through me, leaving white streaks across the tile before the water could rinse it all away.

It wasn’t enough.

I wanted more. I wanted her. I wanted to feel her tight pussy clenching around me as I fucked her raw, her nails digging into my back as she screamed my name. I wanted to taste her on my tongue, her juices dripping down my chin as I devoured her like a starving man. I wanted to pin her down, her wrists trapped above her head, as I pounded into her with a ferocity that left her breathless and begging for mercy.

The water was still scalding my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat coursing through my veins. My cock was already hardening again, throbbing with a need that only she could satisfy. I leaned back against the wall, heart pounding in my chest. This wasn’t just a fantasy. It was a promise. When I finally had her beneath me, I wouldn’t stop until she was screaming my name so loudly the neighbors called the cops.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply for a few minutes. The only outlets I had outside of this were football, the gym, and a handful of violent urges I couldn’t always indulge. I grabbed the cedar and sandalwood body wash—her favorite—and lathered slowly, dragging it across my skin like it might wash away everything still clinging to me. Then I rinsed off andturned the water off. I stepped out into a fog of steam, reaching for my towel. I wiped a streak across the glass and stared at my reflection.

I looked more like myself again, for now.

I brushed my teeth slowly and forced my thoughts to stay in the room, not drifting back to her. I dropped the brush into its holder after I clamped the mint cap on, then I reached for the dish by the sink. I slid the first barbell back where it belonged.

Then the second.

Each piercing, every scar, every drop of ink—I made a vow with all of them. I couldn’t forget marked moments, even when I wanted to. I still had one more to go for each. A little more ink wouldn’t hurt, especially if it was for her. I had a few tattoos. Some meant more than others, but none were random. I hadn’t turned myself into a doodle board. The symbol behind my ear was for family and legacy. The Latin on my ribs was for the oath I took. Inked close to the center of my chest—SFV.

All three letters of her name.

It was etched into an infinity symbol, with the date of the promise we made when we were kids. Just below that hung my half of the heart necklace, strung on a blackened chain I never took off. I kept it tucked under my jersey when out on the field, considering the pendant a good luck charm.

I pumped some lotion into my palm and worked it into my arms, chest, and shoulders. When I finished, I let the towel fall to the floor and climbed into bed. The sheets were cool and clean, smelling like detergent and me. No other body had touched them, but mine.

I grabbed my cell and tapped out a quick text.

Goodnight, Sass.

I set the phone face down on the nightstand, exhaled slowly, and let myself sink deeper into the mattress.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SANJANA

For the second time that week, the relentless chime of my phone jolted me awake. I groaned, blindly reaching toward the nightstand, fingers walking across the surface until they brushed over the screen. I dragged the phone off and cracked one eye open.

“What the hell?”

Seventy-four messages?

I opened the other eye. No, this wasn’t a text, but a group chat I was added to with seventy-four participants. Did I even know that many people? I blinked against the light, trying to make sense of the mess. The name of the thread glared back at me in bold caps:

TEO

Right at the top was a pinned message from a four-digit number, different than the one I kept blocking.

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