Welcome to Sunday Snog. I'm going to tease you this week but then send you off for more... here's a few from Scored my sexy soccer novel.
“I can just imagine you,” he said, tweaking my nipple through silk. “Lying on the bed, legs spread, that buzzing shaft penetrating your sweetness, getting you off, making you pant and sweat.” He paused. “Did you think of me?”
“Tell me,” he whispered, “Please, I want to know.”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
I felt his body tense and his shoulders hitched, like he was pulling in a deep breath. “And did you say my name?” He switched his attentions to the opposite breast.
“Yes, over and over.”
He fluttered his eyes shut and let out a long deep sigh. “Oh, fuck, that mental image of you is so hot,” he muttered.
“Lewis Tate,” I said in a scolding whisper. “You’re a bad boy picturing such things in a holy place.”
His eyes pinged open and his gaze trapped mine. For a split second I thought he might grin. He didn’t. “Tell me you’re not thinking them too.”
“Yes, I am, but—”
“But the difference is you’re not going to have zipper marks permanently imprinted on your genitals.” He shifted on the seat. “Fuck, you make me so hard.” He shook his head and muttered, “So hard it hurts.”
That knowledge thrilled me utterly. “Is that so?” I ran my hand down over his chest, his abdomen, then settled it on the solid wedge of flesh at his groin that was pushing and straining against the denim.
“That’s not helping.” He moaned. His face twisted and his eyes screwed up tight.
“I know what will, though.”
Fuck. Had I really just said that? Double fuck. Had I really just thought that? I had, and it seemed I was the biggest sinner of the lot because I didn’t care. I wanted to act on my impulse. In fact, I wasn’t sure anything could stop me. Not now the need, the desire, had flooded my brain like a tsunami.
I tugged at the button on his jeans, freeing it with a quick flick of my wrist.
“Nicky,” he said, parting his lips on a pant. “What are you doing?” He opened his eyes. They were dark and smoky, their normally crystal-clear depths clouded with lust.
“I’m going to help you out with that zipper problem.” As I spoke I tugged down the zip on his jeans. The flesh beneath burst forward, the cotton of his briefs not as efficient at containing his cock as the denim had been.
“Ah, fuck, really, here?” He hissed in a breath as I cupped his shaft through cotton.
I glanced around. “We seem to be alone.”
“But anyone could walk in—”
I kissed him, cut off his words, the same way he had me earlier. “I somehow don’t think it will take long.” I sought the waistband of his boxers and delved inside. Bulging, heated flesh strained forward and I gripped it eagerly. Ecstatic to finally have his cock in my hand. “Now just let me down there,” I said, nodding between his knees and finding myself admiring the proud, scarlet shaft filling my palm. The head was wide and shiny and blushed with arousal.
He didn’t speak, just spread his thighs and let me maneuver myself between him and the pew in front. “Keep look out,” I said, finding a prayer cushion for my knees and settling into the softness.
“I’ll try.” His cheeks were flushed, his jaw tensed.
You can read all of Scored by purchasing from Amazon, though if you want to enjoy it chapter by chapter I'm uploading a new section every 2 days to Wattpad (accounts are free to open).
Love sexy players - check out my Scored Pinterest board!