Page 66 of Hitting the Goal Line
I didn’t feel much pain during the game, but it has definitely hit in the last few hours and the way Blake’s hands are getting rid of the knots, feels like perfection.
“Do you want to stop?” Blake asks, shifting slightly so that he is somewhat sitting up and is able to pepper more kisses along my skin. This time pulling down the shirt that I’m wearing ever so slightly so that he can reach my collar bone and part of my chest.
“Blake,” I say, protesting but it comes out sounding more like a pant than a protest.
He pulls away just enough for me to see his icy blues starting back at me, almost embedding themselves in my mind for what feels like the first and millionth time. “That isn’t a no, Sophia. Do you want to stop? Because if you do, we will. You call the shots here, not me. Tell me to stop and I will stop kissing you. I will stop touching you. But I need you to say it. Do you want to stop?”
I think about the question for a second or two, but I don’t even have to think about it that long. I already know the answer.
“No, I don’t want to stop.” I answer him, and the way his eyes glow, has flutters moving all over my body.
“But you do want to talk about it,” he offers, his hands not moving off of my body.
I give him a nod. “We kind of have to.”
He gives me a nod in return. “We do,” he says, but then he goes silent for a bit before speaking again. “I care about you, Sophia.” He starts up again, and I’m able to see all the sincerity in his eyes. “More than you can comprehend. You’re one of the best things to ever happened to me, but I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”
“I don’t want to lose you either,” I respond, giving him the truth about how I feel for once. I don’t want to lose him, not now, not ever.
“We can have this.” He starts up again. “We can have this moment of weakness with each other and once we leave this room, we can keep it close to our hearts like we did with our first time. We can have this one moment and not let it ruin us. Just like we promised our first night together.”
I want to break hearing his words. I don’t want this to be just another night where we need each other and we shelve it right next to the night that came before it. I want us to have more than just a moment of weakness, I want us to have it all.
But from the sound of things, Blake doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t see me like I see him, no matter if his lips are moving along my skin right now. He will never love me the same way I love him. I deserve better than just a night of weakness. I deserve better than a single night of feeling loved by the one that owns my heart.
But even knowing that, even with hearing what he is saying, I still find myself nodding. Nodding that yes, we can have this. That we can have this moment of weakness.
Even if it will break me and leave him intact.
That way that Blake smiles at me is everything that I need, though. That and the way he is holding me and the way he leans back in to kiss me, is all that I need to get through this.
“We can do this,” I say between kisses, but I don’t know if it’s for me or for him.
I don’t give myself time to question my words because one minute I’m getting lost in what this man’s mouth is doing to me, the next I lose focus of absolutely everything when I feel him getting harder under me.
Since I’m straddling him, I’m in the perfect position to move my hips so that I’m able to grind myself against him. The only thing between us is the material of my panties and the material of his basketball shorts. And even then, it’s still too much material separating us.
I want to feel him and I want to feel him everywhere. I want to feel him raw and uncaring.
Feeling bold, and needy, I pull my mouth away from his and kiss down his body like he did our first time together.
“Sophia,” he says, almost in frustration, as if to tell me that he wasn’t done kissing me yet.
I don’t stop what I’m doing, though. I continue to kiss every single inch of his exposed skin and moving my way down his torso until I reach the waistband of his shorts.
“Fuck, you look so damn pretty kissing me like that,” he lets out, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.
I marvel at his words, so much so that I decide to drag my tongue along his happy trail and every single one of the ridges of his abs.
This man has the most spectacular body.
I start to push down the waistband of his shorts when one of his hands stop me.
“You don’t have to do that,” he tells me in a tone filled with so much sincerity. He said the same thing our first night together.
“I want to,” I answer, shooting him a smirk and dragging his shorts down.
“I should be making you come right now, not the other way around,” he groans when I lick him from hip to hip.
