“I am a little pissed off at you, though,” I admitted after a moment.
“As you should be.”
“Not for this whole mess,” I said, waving a hand as if it was on the foot of my bed. “But you’ve known for almost two weeks that you messed up, that you wanted me back, and you waited to tell me?”
“Hey,” he said, popping up long enough to lean over and grab his book off my nightstand. “It takes time to write and print a book, okay? Even one this shitty.”
I snatched it out of his hands, smiling as I flipped through. “It really is horrendous.”
“I know.”
“But you didn’t need the book to tell me how you felt,” I pointed out, peeking up at him.
“I needed a grand gesture,” he argued. “I couldn’t just show up here with my tail between my legs.”
“You could have.”
“It wouldn’t have been nearly as romantic.”
“Or public,” I said with a laugh.
“Now everyone knows you’re mine.” Clay grabbed the book out of my hands and tossed it aside before pinning me in the sheets, kissing all up and down my neck as I laughed and wriggled under the ticklish touch.
After a moment, he stopped, balancing on his elbows above me. His jade eyes scanned my own, and he swallowed, shaking his head.
“What?” I asked.
“I just… I thought I’d lost you. Forever. I thought I’d never get to be here again, holding you like this, touching you, kissing you.” His face crumpled in pain. “I was miserable without you.”
“I don’t want to talk about how many bags of Cheetos I ate.”
He smirked, brushing my hair out of my face before he gently removed my glasses and set them aside. Then, he pulled me into him, lips pressing against mine with tender warmth.
My body sparked to life under that kiss, under his massive hands as they pinned my hips beneath him, and he rolled into me. He was already growing hard beneath his briefs, and I whimpered at the feel of him, nails digging into his back.
All conversation ceased as those kisses ran deeper and deeper, until we were panting and moaning and stripping what little clothing we had put on since our first round. When we were fully bare, Clay rolled onto his back, helping me climb onto his lap.
Except then, he pulled me up higher.
“What are you doing?” I breathed.
“I want you to ride my face.”
I balked, but I didn’t have the chance to scurry away or argue against him before he yanked me up, positioning the back of my thighs against his shoulders, my pussy hovering right over his face. He slid his hands down my ribcage, gripping my ass in both palms as he pulled me to him.
And I had no choice but to hold on.
My hands flew out to find the headboard, and I gripped hard as he not only rolled his tongue against me, but used his hands on my ass to roll my hips against him, too. Back and forth, I ground against his mouth as he swirled and flicked and sucked and licked.
It was dizzying in the best way, and I was almost embarrassed at how fast I came for him, at how he stayed right there and lapped up every last second of my release. Only when I was fully sated and trembling did he carefully help me dismount, and then he rolled me over onto my stomach, kissing all along my back before he disappeared for the amount of time it took him to grab a condom.
I saw stars when he slid inside me from behind, and he hooked my hips, hiking me up to arch for him as he withdrew before plummeting inside me again. I was desperate to be close to him, so I pressed up onto my knees, one hand reaching back to hook around his neck while the other reached behind for his ass.
He groaned when I squeezed him, pulling him deeper into me as I pressed my ass back and begged for more. He trailed kisses along my neck, sucking my earlobe between his teeth as I moaned and ground against him.
“You’re mine, Giana Jones,” he growled into my ear, hand crawling over my chest until it clamped down over my throat. I arched into it, gasping in pleasure. “And I’m never letting you go.”
Our first time reconnecting when we’d come back to my apartment was fast — desperate and rabid and over before either of us had the chance to take a real breath. But this time, Clay was slow and purposeful with every thrust. Just when I thought he was ready to release, he’d pull out, kissing me long and deep as he switched us into a new position.
It was on the heels of another orgasm for me that he finally came, too, my ankles on his shoulders as he pumped out every rivulet of his release. And when he carried me into the shower, my legs too weak to move on their own, he sank down under the streaming hot water and cradled me to his chest.
“I love you,” he whispered, tilting my chin up.
“I love you,” I echoed, threading my fingers through the wet hair at the nape of his neck.
And then he kissed me, and for the first time in my life, I felt like the main character.
This was my happy ever after.
One month later
Clay
We all stared at Coach Sanders for a full twenty seconds without anyone saying a word.
And then, it was fucking chaos.
“What?!”
“You can’t leave.”
“We just lost a bowl game. And now this shit?”
“Literally just lost.”
“We’re on fire. Why would you leave?”
“We can’t do this without you!”
I just watched the calamity unfold, my heart stuck in my throat even as I attempted to swallow it down. One glance at Holden standing quiet and calm in the corner told me he was still processing, too — and likely trying to decide how a leader should react to this news.
Our head coach was leaving us.
We were on the cusp of greatness, and he was taking a job in the NFL.
I couldn’t fault him. Hell, I knew that when it came down to it, none of us could. It was a dream for almost all of us to play in the League, and nearly every college coach dreamed of the day they were invited up.
But we’d just lost the playoff bowl game against one of the top schools in the nation. We were beat up from it, down — but not out. If anything, that loss only made us want it more.
Now, we’d have a new coach to guide this pack of hungry wolves.
After the noise erupted to an unbearable level, Coach Sanders held out his hands, swallowing as he waited for us to calm down.
“I know this isn’t easy news,” he said. “And believe me when I say it wasn’t an easy choice for me, either. I have been here with you every step of the way. I’m proud of what I’ve built here — of what we have built together. And I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that it will be you holding up that championship trophy next year. It guts me that I won’t be there holding it up with you.”
My eyes watered, and I sniffed, internally cursing as I hid my face from the team.
“You don’t need me.”
There were several shouts of disagreement, but Coach held up his hands again.
“You don’t. You can do this — whether it’s with me or another coach or on your own. You’re strong. You’re diligent. You’re dedicated. And you’re talented.” He nodded, looking each of us in the eye. “Never forget that. Never stop fighting. And never forget that even across the country, I’m in your corner, and I believe in you.”