Page 42 of The Pass Protection
Hands leave my hair as she reaches for the hem of her shirt and tugs it over her head. She reaches behind her back and frees her breasts from her black bra. The straps slide down her arms before finding a spot on the floor beside her shirt. Within minutes, she’s sitting on the edge of the counter wearing only a scrap of lace.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” She blushes slightly before she spreads her legs wider, giving me the perfect view of her lace-covered pussy. My mouth waters at the anticipation of what’s to come. Slipping my thumbs beneath the material, I work the lace down her legs before it finds the same destination as the rest of her clothes.
Sitting back on my legs, I take a moment to soak in Bret in all of her flawless, naked glory. This is the first time I’m getting a chance to look at her in the light. Black ink pops against her tan skin. The metal piercings contrast against her pink, erect nipples. Indents on her stomach showcase the abs she works hard to maintain. But next to her bare pussy is black ink that has me pausing.
With my finger, I graze the words that are tattooed below her panty line near her hip bone. “Lucky you.”
A devilish smile paints her face. “You can thank Olivia for that.”
I quirk a brow waiting for more, but she shrugs one shoulder. That explanation is good enough for me. I’m not really in the mood to talk right now anyway, as my cock twitches in my pants, reminding me what I’m in the middle of.
Leaning forward, my lips kiss her soft skin. I lightly trace my tongue over the ink as I make my way down her body. Goose bumps are left on the trail that I make as I place open-mouth kisses across her thighs and right above her pussy. Her legs widen, and her head falls back as she lets out a moan. I pull her closer to the edge and drape her legs over my shoulders. Fingers weave their way into my hair, guiding me to her center.
“Take what you need from me,” I mumble the words against her flesh.
Bret rides my face seeking friction against my stubble as I continue finger fucking her. With every pump and every flick, she’s closer to falling over the edge. Watching Bret come apart might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
I want so desperately to be inside her. To feel her pussy grip my cock as she explodes around me. But now isn’t the time.
My mouth finds her clit as she palms her breasts and pinches her nipples. I flick my tongue against her while I stroke my fingers deep inside her.
“Oh god, I’m going to come.” The raspy words only spur me on.
Pumping harder, I twist my fingers while I bite down on her sensitive bud. “I’m coming, I’m coming. I’m—” Bret’s voice trails off as she fights the scream as her orgasm rips through her. With my free hand, I cover her mouth to help muffle her screams. Her hips grind against my hand as she rides the euphoric wave.
When I’m certain she isn’t going to give us away, I remove my hand from her mouth as I remove my fingers inside her wet heat. Her comedrips down my hand, and my cock aches to be touched by her. But he’ll have to wait.
Bret’s naked chest heaves as pink blotches coat her flawless skin. With droopy eyes and a lopsided smile, Bret pulls me to her. “That mouth of yours.”
Placing a kiss on her lips, she licks the seam of my mouth. The taste of her coating her tongue, and she hums in appreciation.
“Rebel, we’ve gotta get out of here. People are going to start to wonder where we disappeared to.”
“It’s a big party. We could easily find a bedroom and lock ourselves in it for the next hour, and no one would know we were missing.”
Resting my forehead against hers, I leave a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “As much as I love that idea, the only bedroom I’m locking you in is either yours or mine. Preferably mine so I can smell you every time I fall asleep.”
“Then take me home, Crew Riggsby.”
Crew: Good morning, Rebel! Hope you have a good day!
As I walk through the bustling campus on this early Tuesday morning, black coffee in hand, I make my way to the brick business building where my sports management classes are held.
Sports management is a unique field of study for women, but it’s one I’m very passionate about. In high school, there was an imbalance between the boys’ and girls’ programs. We weren’t given the same access to weight training equipment and gym time. Even our game schedule was never to opponents that matched our skill level. While I understand there is a difference between boys and girls, I want the opportunity to showcase that women deserve the same opportunities as men.
There’s a vibrant energy floating around campus this morning—chatter and laughter bubbles around me as I take the cobblestone sidewalks. The air around the quad almost feels lighter. Is there something going on I don’t know about? Or is this what normal people feel? The type of people whose past hasn’t been haunted, who don’t travel with a dark cloud floating above their head. I feel my face mirroring theirs with each head nod and tight-lipped smile.
It’s been a month since I moved to Texas. Slowly, over each day, the walls I’ve constructed are crumbling. The relationships I’m forming feel genuine. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong. Arizona was a stepping stone for fake friendships, aside from Olivia, but these friendships feel real. They don’t feel forced just because I’m the coach’s daughter or their friend’s sister. I feel like I actually matter to them.
Crew is a big part of that, but I refuse to let him be the only reason for my shift. Feelings are hard to fight, especially when they are as strong as they are between us, but at the end of the day, I’m still here to learn about myself. I refuse to let myself fall into the same pattern I did in Arizona, where I let a guy control me to the point he shaped who I was.
This morning, when I woke up, the boys were long gone for their early morning practice. A text from Crew was waiting for me. It was such a minor gesture, but it brightened my morning instantly. I’m a total simp for a good morning text. In our quiet apartment, I could sit with myself for a more extended meditation session than I usually would. I took the time to focus on my goals and really talk to my inner self. Savasana didn’t feel as heavy as it usually would. In fact, everything about this morning felt lighter.
Olivia was right. I needed a fresh start surrounded by family.
Climbing the few steps at the front of the business building, I push my way through the glass doors. The inside completely contrasts with the exterior, which I love. Central Texas is an old campus. It’s been around for over a hundred years, but when they remodeled all of the buildings, they incorporated a modern feel to the interior while keeping the older charm of brick on the exterior.
Students mill around the open space of the lobby, where a stock market ticker runs on the wall. I pass a group of guys dressed inbusiness attire—dress pants and button-up shirts. I’ve heard some classes require students to dress as if they were showing up in an office. I think it’s great practice, but I’m glad my classes don’t require that. We have the rest of our lives to dress professionally.
