If I Could - B. Celeste Page 0,65

lean back with anticipation. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” I admit, groaning when my shorts and briefs are pulled halfway down my thighs until my dick stands to attention face-level with him.

I’m not sure what I expect as his answer, but all I get is “Good,” before his lips are on me.

The loud, drawn-out noise escaping my lips is involuntary as his mouth glides over my cock, filling his mouth with me. His tongue drags along the bottom, tasting me, sucking, and I all I can do is shake my head back and forth along the cool tile behind me and press my lips closed to keep quiet.

There’s no denying he’s mastered giving head because he deep throats like a pro, applying just the right pressure, in the perfect fucking places, and I’m gone. His lips slide up and down, his free hand rolling my balls in his hand, tugging them gently, before repeating the motion and making me thrust forward until he works past his gag to swallow me deeper.

“Not going to last much longer,” I warn him, feeling the familiar tingle of arousal shoot up my spine as a hand goes to his hair and threads into his thick locks as he bobs up and down between my thighs faster, making the kind of wet, slurping noises that send me overboard. I try to warn him I’m about to come, but he simply holds onto my quivering thighs tightly and continues sucking me off until I shoot down his throat, a satisfied noise radiating from him as he swallows every drop before pulling away slowly. He kisses the head of my cock again before I draw him up to standing and tug him into me.

He cradles the back of my head and neck as I rest my forehead against his shoulder, catching my breath. There are so many things I want to tell him as he strokes my hair, but words don’t seem like enough right now. When I look him in the eyes, his seem to mirror the same glaze mine do, one hand going to my face as he strokes my sore bottom lip. “I know,” he tells me softly, meeting me halfway for a soft, sensual kiss that drags out.

We taste each other slowly, the tanginess of me on his tongue sending waves of arousal back down to my softening dick. I hold onto him like my life depends on it, my fingertips digging into one of his biceps like if I let go, that’s it, and I can’t help but let out a choked sound as he hugs me closer as the emotion takes over.

Lawrence repeats, “I know,” stroking the back of my head, and somehow that makes everything better.

Chapter Fifteen

Ren

Scout: You have nothing to worry about.

Easy for you to say, is what I want to text back but don’t get a chance to before there are two quick raps at the door. Red stands next to Tommy, my offensive linemen nudging him forward and making my lips waver slightly before I collect myself. For someone who wants people to think he’s intimidating, he doesn’t hide his nerves well.

“Glad you showed up,” I greet him honestly, having read his stats from his previous team. I’m more than impressed with what I saw. He wasn’t just the running back for their football team, he was undoubtedly the star. From what I could gather, if his father hadn’t been injured and needed to move off base, he probably would have still been there getting scouted by college reps.

Anthony Red Bowen is only 17, but he has the potential to be the next Barry Sanders if he wants to be. He’s got the skill, the build, and the determination to train hard and get picked up by some of the best colleges in the country. Not being part of the Wildcats would be a disservice to him if his goals involved pro ball.

He refuses to sit when I gesture toward the seat I dragged in only ten minutes earlier to prepare for this. Tommy must have left us to it because I don’t see him lurking in the hall, and I appreciate the privacy. “Let me ask you something. You’re good at the game, there’s no doubt about it, but do you like it?”

His face scrunches from where he leans against one of the empty shelves. “That seems like a stupid question.”

“Is it though?” Challenge coats my tone as I lean back in my chair. “I