Tackle (Bad Boy Billionaire Sports Romance)

My thumb reaches her mouth. She doesn't stop me when I touch her bottom lip. "Colton," she whispers.

"I want to spread your legs," I continue as she stands there unmoving, her eyes lightly closed and her face upturned to me. The image of her on her knees, my fantasy the other day, flashes into my head — and I have to shut it down. "I want to pull you down to the edge of the chair and touch my tongue to your wetness — slowly at first, just to taste your sweetness. Then I want to bury my face in you, licking your clit and fucking you with my tongue until you come with my head between your legs. I want to taste you as you come on my face."

"I..." she starts, but then she takes my thumb into her mouth, just the edge of it. Her eyes fly open as if the movement surprised even her — except that she moans.

It's soft, barely audible, but I hear it.

She fucking moaned.

I pull her to me forcefully, one hand at the nape of her neck, the other on the edge of her waist, and kiss her. I kiss the hell out of this girl. I kiss her like I've never kissed a girl before, like I know I'll never kiss a girl again.

Her tongue meets mine like it was made for me, a puzzle that fits. I should be scared as fuck at the thought of that, except I'm not. I'm too on fire to think about anything else except the fact that I'm kissing the hottest girl I've ever met. And she's kissing me back, her body melting against mine, moaning into my mouth. I pull her against my body, her hips grinding into my hardness. She grips me back, her body tightening on me as she feels my cock pressing against her.

When I finally pull my lips away, she doesn't step back. She stays where she is, her body flush against mine. Her breath is short and her lips are swollen red, the mark I've left on her.

"Colton, I... we..." Her voice trails off and she doesn't finish what she's going to say. We shouldn't do this. We're breaking the rules.

I know that's what she's going to say.

"I don't give a fuck about the rules, Cassie," I growl. "I want you."

"Do you always get everything you want?"

I reach for the first button on her shirt, the one that I've wanted to undo since the first time I saw her in one of these stupid, prim-and-proper shirts. And I really mean to just undo it. Like a civilized person. Except something happens when I touch it and the button just flies off, landing on the floor with a ping.

So I finish it. I pull open her shirt like a goddamn caveman, buttons scattering.

"Always," I answer, my hand cupping her breast. I slide a finger inside her bra, and she grinds her hips against me like a reflex, something she can't control. A whimper escapes her lips as her nipple hardens to my touch.

I want to see her nipples. I don't think I've ever wanted to see anything so bad in my life.

"Colton, this totally against the rules," she whispers as I unhook her bra.

"You sure?" I ask, palming her breast with one hand as I hold her against me with the other. My cock is throbbing its approval.

"No," she confesses, her voice breathy.

I bend down and flick my tongue lightly over her nipple. Her hands come to my head, and she grips me tightly against her breast. I cover her with my mouth, my tongue swirling around in circles as her breath gets shorter and shorter.

Hell, I think she might come just from this.

"No?" I ask, when I come up for breath.

She shakes her head and looks at me, her chest rising and falling quickly. "I could lose everything," she whispers. "I... don't want to lose everything."

I'm not sure whether she's talking about the tutoring position or her virginity. My cock presses against my zipper, so hard that I think it's going to explode, but then I look at her, standing here with her breath short and her shirt torn open, and I think about the fact that she's a virgin. In that split second, guilt washes over me.

I don't fuck virgins. I fuck girls who have lots of experience, girls who are just up for a good time. Casual sex is my game. I've craved Cassie since I first saw her. I already know that if I taste her once, I'm going to want more.

I only hesitate for a second, but she clears her throat, pulling the strap of her bra up onto her shoulder. "I…" she starts, her voice faltering. "This… um. I can't do this."

She hooks her bra and slides back into her shirt, holding the front closed with one hand.

"Your shirt," I say. "Shit. Hang on." I dig through my bag and grab a spare t-shirt. "I keep a change of clothes just in case."

"Just in case you rip off a girl's shirt?" she asks, taking it from me.

"Funny," I say. "That's the first time I've torn the buttons off a girl's shirt."

"Somehow, I doubt that," she mutters softly. "I'm going to look like I'm doing the walk of shame out of here. This t-shirt is huge."

The t-shirt hangs on her, far too large to fit her. Shit, I like the way she looks wearing it. I can see her lying on my bed in it.