Page 68 of Faking Summer
I didn't break eye contact, holding her stare as I stepped past her. My jaw tightened as I tipped my head toward the Blue Devils’ locker room. "Come."
She didn't move, stuck to the spot she was standing, either from defiance or desire, couldn't tell which. "Make me wait, and it'll be worse for you," I warned, as I adjusted my watch.
twenty-nine
Caroline
Reese disappeared into the locker room. That man made me feel every emotion known to humankind. Anger at his audacity, excitement, nerves, and heat—oh, an unbearable heat that flushed my skin and ran through my blood with anticipation.
In any rational state, my mind would talk me out of following after him, but any trace of rationality had packed its bags and hopped the last train out of town ages ago. My heart was pounding at the thought of what he wanted to do in there. God only knew. But my feet? Oh, they’d already made the decision for me, dragging me straight ahead.
I paused at the locker room entrance as the heavy door closed behind me. Fidgeting with the delicate necklace around my neck, I stepped into the dimly lit space. Reese leaned against the wall, his hypnotic eyes locked onto mine. "Take your pants off," he commanded.
"What?" The word slipped out as I took in the large locker room that surrounded me. Reese didn’t move, his athletic build casually waiting with expectation.
"Last time," he began, his voice low and steady, "I let you call theshots." His hand lifted, as he drew a circle in the air. "But here, I run the show." The corner of his mouth tugged into a dangerous grin. "So, I'm going to repeat myself one more time. Take off your pants."
Before I could fully process it, I was slipping my shoes off, guided by an impulse that was both rebellious and out of my control. I tugged off my leggings, and they pooled at my feet. I stood there in my dark green panties, suddenly exposed, but Reese's gaze—it memorized, it praised, it undressed every layer of my soul. The way he looked: eyes dark, lips caught between his teeth, raw hunger in every inch of him… I knew then that my resistance was long gone, just like my self-control at a pizza buffet.
"Good girl," he finally said as he closed the distance between us. His lips found the line of my jaw, blazing a gentle trail of kisses down to my neck.
"Sit," he ordered, his voice a low growl between kisses. His finger pointed firmly at the wooden bench in the center of the room.
"What if someone comes in?"
"I come in this time every day, no one usually comes in for a while," he said.
He pulled off his black hoodie, giving me a brief glimpse of his rippling abs, which glistened as his shirt rode up. Then, with casual ease, he tossed the hoodie near his locker. He closed the space between us, then leaned over me, his mouth crashing down on mine. He bit my lower lip, then soothed it with his tongue before he continued. The confidence in everything he did was just as much a part of him as the sharpness of his jaw or the green of his eyes.
He dropped to his knees, his face mere inches from my waist. His warm breath tickled my skin as he dragged soft kisses along my stomach, making me shiver in anticipation. He traced the outline of the tattoo on my hip with his tongue, following it down to my thighs with agonizing slowness. I bit back a whimper as I felt his fingers graze the waistband of my panties, before he slid them off, making me more impatient by the second. His hands were rough and possessive as he yanked my thighs apart, exposing everything.
“I’ve been waiting too damn long to taste you again, and I’m fucking starving,” he said. His eyes met mine for a brief second before he lowered himself between my thighs and lifted my legs over his shoulders.
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t tease—just went in, relentless and unstoppable. His mouth was hot and wet against my pussy, his tongue lapping at me like he’d only come here today for this—like he had been starved on the street for years. Every flick, every suck, every sinful swirl drove me deeper as he worked me over, his stubble scraping against my sensitive skin. Every flick of his tongue sent a lightning bolt of pleasure coursing through my body.
“Oh, god,’ I said, arching my back, moaning as he slipped two fingers inside me, curling them in a way that made me see stars.
“You like that, baby?” he whispered against my skin before continuing.
“Yes.” I moaned, “God, yes.”
I was already close, so fucking close. My hips grinded against his face, my fingers gripping the bench. I knew he could feel my body tensing, but just as I was about to tip over the edge, he pulled back. “Hold up. I need you to start being honest with me."
I whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of me, denying me the release that was so tantalizingly close. I sighed in frustration, still reeling. "Yes," I gasped, "I’ll tell you whatever you want to know."
He chuckled darkly. "That’s a good start. Now tell me what you want."
"You," I breathed out, barely able to speak. I wanted him more than anything—his touch, his taste, his body against mine. "I want you. I’m on the pill, and I know we’re both clean, so just do it without a condom. I want to feel you."
“How do you know I’m clean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“I may have snooped on your paperwork in the office,” I tried to say as innocently as I could.
He didn’t waste a second. He grabbed me, lifting me off the bench like I weighed nothing, and flipping me onto myknees. My ass was up in the air, my pussy dripping as I heard the sound of him pulling down his pants, then freeing his cock as he said, “You’re more naughty than I thought you were.”
I moaned, burying my face in the crook of my arm as he teased my entrance with his cock before sliding inside me with one relentless thrust. He felt so good—so hard and thick and perfect.
"Fuck, I missed you," I cried out. The stretch of him was almost too much, but he didn’t stop.
