Kayla, however, had no ulterior motives.
“You,” I said, gazing into her eyes, “wouldn’t be with me because of my spot on Michigan’s football team. You’d be with me . . . in spite of it.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she visibly struggled to find words. “Jay, I like you—”
“Good.”
“But I can’t date a guy from Michigan. My family will have me committed.”
I wasn’t fazed. “Your rivalry excuse doesn’t hold water, McCarthy. If you really care about it so much, then why do you let me do this?”
I cut off her startled breath, sealing my lips over hers. Heat seared through me. It fired down my muscles as she returned my kiss. She matched me stride-for-stride.
“Maybe I’m just using you for sex,” she whispered, only half-joking.
I couldn’t even half-ass an attempt at being offended. My body was all for this plan, and my ego was, too. Our chemistry was off the charts. What was the likelihood she’d sleep with me and then not want more?
“I don’t mind,” I said.
I took her can of beer and the TV remote, plunking them down on the weird coffee table/construction spool, and then I pulled her into my lap where I could resume kissing her.
“Do you want me to record that?” she said between kisses.
“What?” My mouth moving against hers made it difficult for her to speak.
“You were just on SportsCenter, Jay.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, my mom records it and save the tapes. My parents have got to be the last people on the planet who still use a VCR.”
Her lips were soft, and I dipped my tongue between them, seeking out hers. When I found it, my heartrate kicked up. Exhaustion from the day dried up, burned away by need. I pulled back and enjoyed how heavy her eyelids were, like my kiss had leveled her. “Where’s your roommate tonight?”
“Out,” she whispered. “He could come home whenever.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ran the tip of my nose along the curve of her neck. There was that familiar coconut scent, the one which drove me insane. Distinctly her. She was so small, but powerful. “What’s he going to do if he catches us fooling around on the couch?”
Her words were slow and seductive as she tilted her head to the side, giving me more access to her throat. “He’s not going to.”
“Are you telling me,” I skimmed my lips over her racing pulse, “to keep my hands to myself?”
“No.” She fisted my shirt, tugging me closer. “Let’s move this discussion into my bedroom.”
I let out a wicked laugh and scooped her up into my arms. My ribs were sore. My knee ached from an awkward tackle right before the half, but I didn’t care now. As long as I had the invite, I’d crawl to her bed if needed.
She climbed out of my lap, and I followed her up off the couch. She grabbed her beer, and then pointed to the corner. “Get your shit, Eighty-Eight, and come on.”
Holy fuck, she didn’t need to tell me twice.
-20-
JAY
I dropped my bag just inside her bedroom, set my beer on a shelf, and kicked the door closed behind me as she turned off the overhead light. A string of white dock lights was draped on the ceiling, and the soft lighting was fucking sexy. The gorgeous blonde in the room had a lot to do with it.
Like last time, it was impossible to keep my hands off her, and she seemed just as desperate as I was. Her hands clawed at my t-shirt, yanking it up over my head. I pulled at her top, trying to tug it down until she pushed my hands out of the way and whipped it up and off.
She wore a basic purple bra with little gold hoops at the straps, and it was the sexiest thing ever. My fingers fumbled to release my belt, but she’d turned into stone. Her gaze was pinned on my chest.
“I’m fine,” I said, when I glanced down and realized what she was looking at. A purple-yellow bruise was still fading from our home opener, just below where my pads sat. A helmet between the numbers could knock the wind clean out of you, and for an opponent playing safety, hopefully the ball too. He hadn’t, though. Ball security was something I’d improved over the last two seasons.
“You sure?” she whispered.
Her concern was sweet, but I wasn’t fragile. “Yeah.” I softened my knees and leaned back against the door, then I threaded a hand in her hair and jerked her toward me. It caused her to fall into my chest, right into my bruise. “See?”
I wasn’t rough, but her blue eyes darkened. They burned, hot for me. I slid my palm down the bare skin of her back and grabbed a handful of her jeans-covered ass. A half-moan, half-whimper came from her lips as I gripped her. Our mouths crashed together. Tongues slashed and stroked.
The wood of the door was cool against my back, and I needed the support. Kissing her was a full contact sport, and I wasn’t sure which play to call next.
A snap decision was made in my head. My hand spanned over her jeans, and I squeezed her ass. “Get these off.”
I pushed her back, and stayed leaning against the door. Did she get it? How I wanted to watch? Once more, my hands went to my belt and worked the leather end free, but I didn’t drop my gaze to my hands.
I watched her. Only her.
Kayla moved slowly. She undid the snap of her jeans and inched the zipper down, then hooked her thumbs in the waist. She barely blinked as she stared at me. One side of her jeans was shimmied down over a hip, then the other, and the way she swayed side to side as she worked them down . . . fuck. All the blood in my body raced to my dick.
She was about to see it, too, because I yanked at my pants and my underwear, pushing them down to bunch at my ankles. I stepped out and kicked them out of my way, while wrapping a fist around my cock.
Her shoulders lifted as she sucked in a deep breath. The low-cut underwear matched the bra. Little gold hoops held the strings around her hips and glinted in the soft light.
Her gaze drifted down from my eyes. It slipped over my chest and landed on my hand, following the slow strokes as I fucked my fist. She seemed almost surprised.
I was curious. “You’ve never seen a guy jerk off before?”
Kayla’s eyelids fluttered in a series of rapid blinks, as if my question had made her shy. She shook her head, and when her gaze returned to mine, I gave a lazy grin.
“Do you like watching it?”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly. I was given a nod, and my knees softened. I slid an inch down the flat door.
“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
Without me having to ask, she came to me. She stood between my feet, so the outsides of her thighs were against the insides of mine, and she twisted her hands behind her back. The bra released. The flimsy fabric and elastic was tossed aside.