fingers as he moaned into my mouth. We were loud. Frantic. Sloppy and passionate. He cupped my breast as I spread my legs wider to grind against his thigh.
My lady button was preening like a motherfucking peacock. She was used to attention of the vibrating variety, and it was nice to feel something alive and warm—and not battery operated.
“Wow, uh, you’re really good at this,” I sighed lamely as he moved to pepper kisses along my jaw and nip at my neck. “Like, so good.” He pressed harder against my pussy.
“Stop talking, Solver," he said, chuckling. "Get out of your head for five minutes.”
Get out of my head? I could get out of my head. I was cool as a cat.
A cat in heat.
A starving cat in heat that wouldn’t stop meowing.
I trailed my fingers lower and rested them on the edge of his waistband. Oakley stiffened. He was stiff everywhere. Oh my God, was that a hammer in his pants? It felt lethal against my stomach. A weapon of mass destruction. One-eyed concrete member of fucking doom.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he moaned before devouring my lips once more. His warning was meant to taunt me, but it served as a stark reminder that this would never...finish.
Oh fuck, I was two seconds away from cupping my client’s junk.
I pulled away breathlessly. “We should stop.”
Oakley didn’t pressure me. He pulled away after a lingering look and nodded. Just like that. I set a boundary, and he didn’t argue, didn’t protest or try to make me feel bad for ending our steamy make out session. It was something I’d never experienced.
I instantly missed the warm pressure of Oakley’s body pressed against mine, but this was how it had to be. I couldn’t fail. I couldn’t fuck this up. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the sensation of Oakley’s fully erect cock against my thigh. I took a breath and smoothed out my clothes and hair, even though it was so dark nobody would be able to see the wrinkles in my shirt or the faint redness on my face from Oakley’s stubble.
“Umm, after you, fearless leader,” I tried to say confidently.
“Fearless leader. I like that,” he chided playfully—not even a hint of frustration in his voice. He put his hand on the small of my back to guide me back onto the path. Such a simple gesture made me feel so fucking safe. I wasn’t even scared of the ghosts. Just kidding, I was totally still scared of the ghosts. But, at least with Oakley here, they might go for him first.
As we made it back onto the path, we could hear Heath and Kyle still frantically looking for me, and it made us both laugh.
“What the fuck, man, where did she go?” Heath yelled.
“How am I supposed to know? You pussies left me back there!” I heard another voice that had to be Ryan’s shout. Good. I’m glad they found Ryan. I felt kind of bad for him all by himself out there.
“So what happens now?” I asked Oakley. “I mean, is the game over? Did I win? Did they lose? Do the freshmen lose and have to dress up like Queen B and put on a show in the quad?”
“Whoa, slow down! For someone who didn’t even want to be here, you suddenly care an awful lot,” Oakley teased. “No, the game is not over yet. You cannot win, you’re a ball. They haven’t lost because the game isn’t over yet. And why would they have to dress up like Beyoncé?”
Damn. I really wanted to win. I also really wanted my own private Beyoncé concert.
“Time out is over, and since you so easily lost the fucking ball,” Oakley began while giving the guys a pointed stare, “you all get to carry her the rest of the way. And by my calculations, you have about four miles left. Don’t lose the ball. Protect it at all costs. Always be looking to score.”
That last line made me choke on a snicker. We almost scored in the woods just now.
I dared any of them to groan about carrying me. Now was not the time for fat jokes. “Yes, sir,” Heath replied, quickly followed by the others, no complaint in sight. Damn. This team was a cult.
Oakley turned to me with a smirk barely visible in the night sky. “See you in the end zone, Solver.”
16
It took the guys a little less than an hour to get to the finish line. Between