22122110jkttd202323

TUTORING THE DELINQUENT

JESSA KANE

CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

Teddy

On the way to my new tutor’s dorm room, I want to punch a hole in the hallway wall.

It’s like this all the time now. The relentless anger slithers inside of me like oily snakes. I’ve worked myself to the bone on the football field in an attempt to exhaust the roiling emotions inside of me, but nothing ever gives.

There’s a bowling ball sitting on my chest, pressing down, down, so hard that I can’t breathe sometimes and the only thing that relieves it for even a moment is destruction.

Breaking shit. Acting out as my college counselor calls it.

She can call it whatever she wants—it feels good.

Rebelling is the only thing that helps melt the resentment lately.

On my way past a room of students, they look up from their phones and gasp.

“Is that Teddy Xavier?”

Yeah, it’s me, assholes. Take a good look.

During my first three years of school, I would have waved and flashed them a smile that’s going to earn me millions of

dollars in endorsement deals one day, when I’ve been drafted to the NFL. But now? I give them the finger and keep walking, the constant roaring in my ears growing louder. I already hate this fucking tutor. Iris Stirling. She’s going to be smug as hell, I bet. She’s the only thing standing between me and the championship game next week. If I don’t pass my Western Civilization test, I don’t play. I’m already skating on thin ice after getting picked up by the cops for being drunk and disorderly in public. Breaking into a few cars, just because I could. Because I needed to distract myself from the pain.

So I’m sure Iris Stirling—what a stupid name—is getting o on a major power trip right now, telling all of her friends that she has Teddy Xavier by the short and curlies. As long as she helps me pass the history course, she can brag all she wants—I just need to be on the field.

Lately, being on the gridiron has been less about football and more about the temporary relief I get from the constant anger when I’m tackled hard. But that’s another story.

I stop in front of her closed dorm room door and wrap my hands around the jamb. She’s in there, chattering away on the phone, and I have to resist the urge to kick in the door, splinter it right there on the hinges. Just to set the tone. I’m going to let her teach me the shit I need to know to pass the test and play in the championship game, but that’s where it ends. I’m not her shortcut to popularity or claim to fame.

God, I hate her already. I hate everyone.

Especially him. For leaving. For checking out early.

What the hell is the point of this anymore?

Breathing through the wave of emptiness that passes through me, I bang a fist on the door, ready to finally meet this chick. Iris. Apparently she’s the campus genius. Too bad she sounds like a basic idiot from this side of the door.

And when she opens that door and we come face to face, I’m relieved to be right. Already I can’t stand her. She looks like every other fucking cheerleader or co-ed who follows me around campus with dreams of babies and a mansion in their heads. Fuck that. I want nothing to do with any of them, especially since the funeral. I had hundreds of them during my first three years at the university and I can’t recall a single face, so what would be the point, anyway?

My scowl doesn’t stop her from twisting hair around her finger and giggling. “I can’t believe it. Mr. Teddy Xavier himself in my dorm room.”

“Yeah, Iris,” I grit, bitterly, wishing I had a fifth of whiskey in my hand. “Lucky you.”

“Oh, I’m not Iris,” she laughs, as if it was a wild assumption. “Iris is my roommate.” She cups a hand around her mouth and whispers, “Poor you.”

Irritated that this girl, who is apparently not the campus genius, has wasted a full minute of my life, I duck beneath the door frame and enter the room, my stride pausing when I see the other occupant. She’s sitting on a twin bed with her head bowed, curtains of messy blonde hair hiding her face.

Her green cardigan is old and thin, buttoned up to her chin, knees pressed together in her leggings. There’s a Western Civilization book in her lap and she appears to be holding on to it for dear life.

“Iris,” I say, my voice a hell of a lot softer than when I addressed the other chick…and I have no idea why. “Are you Iris?”

She nods, her knuckles turning white around the textbook. Is she scared of something? I wouldn’t blame her.

She looks like she could be picked up and carried away by a gust of wind.

“I’m Teddy Xavier.” I duck down a little, trying to see her face, frowning when she only hides it further. “Obviously

you remember we have a tutoring appointment since you’re holding the book. Are you…?” I really don’t understand the weird discomfort in my chest. Di erent from the everpresent anger. More like concern or anticipation. I don’t know. “Is everything okay?”

She nods again. Says nothing.

Frowning, I look around the dorm room. The girl who answered the door is back to sitting on her bed and she’s taking sneaky pictures of me, as if I wouldn’t notice. I’m sure they’ll be all over Twitter and TikTok by tomorrow morning, but I can’t find it in me to give a shit.

No, what draws my attention, instead, is the way the dorm room is divided.

Iris has been limited to the island of her tiny bed, while this girl’s stu is everywhere. She’s taking up ninety percent of the room with her Taylor Swift posters and furniture and clothes. It’s obvious where her section of the room ends and Iris’s begins, because my tutor’s portion is bare and sparse and small. Too small for a person to breathe in, let alone live.

“Hey,” I bark, jerking my chin at the cheerleader-type.

“Is this all your shit?”

The phone drops into her lap and she goes from flirty to belligerent in about two point five seconds. “She said I could have most of the space.”

“Did you say that?” I ask Iris.

Several ticks of silence go by.

Then she looks up at me, the blonde hair falling back to her shoulders. And my stomach takes a dramatic dive, the way it does when a roller coaster plumets from a great height. Why can’t I fucking breathe? I actually lurch for the wall to stabilize myself, but I don’t—I won’t take my gaze o of her. Jesus. Jesus.

She’s so solemnly beautiful with her big, serious eyes.

What fucking color is that? Purple? Some undiscovered shade

of blue? Her mouth is unpainted and soft and wide. And I don’t know how I can tell she rarely uses it to speak, but I do.

I just know. I just know everything she’s thinking in a single instant, almost like we’re using telepathy.

“No, she didn’t,” I growl at the other girl, without taking my attention from Iris. “She didn’t say you could take up the whole room. Have it fixed by tomorrow or I’ll do it for you.” I point at the door. “Right now? You can leave.”

“Leave?” she screeches, shooting to her feet. “This is my room—” “Cool story. Find another one.”

It takes her a minute to gather up her things and stomp out of the dorm room, slamming the door behind her. During that minute, I can’t look away from the quiet little genius sitting in front of me, shivering as if she’s scared. Of me? Oh God, I don’t know why, but I absolutely cannot have that. My whole life is about intimidating other people, that’s how I’ve been an All-American two years running. But if this fairy is afraid of me, I think it might tear me open like a knife through a sack of flour.

“It’s okay,” I say, gently as possible.

Her chest starts to rise and fall quickly.

“Should I not have made her leave? Are you scared to be alone with me?” When she only continues to watch me like a timid rabbit, I have no idea what comes over me. I have no idea, but I kneel. I kneel down and slowly remove my jacket, tossing it on the floor, holding up my hands. Showing her I’m huge and strong, but I’m just a man? I have no idea. I have no idea what’s happening at all, but my heart is going to burst out of my body any second now. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Iris.”

“I’m not afraid,” she whispers.

My world grinds to a halt. That voice. That voice. Every syllable out of her mouth is like a warm washcloth being

dragged across the grime inside of me, wiping me clear.

Cleansing me. I have to dig my fingers into the back of my neck to prevent myself from crawling forward and burying my face in her lap. “Why are you shaking?”

“You stood up for me.” Her tone is totally incredulous. “I didn’t expect it.”

“You needed me to, right?” I look around at the possessions encroaching on her space and I want to throw it all through the glass window. “Right, Iris?”

Slowly, reluctantly, she nods. “Thank you.”

My throat is too dry to swallow. “What else do you need?”

I sound like a complete idiot. My voice is hoarse, I’m practically growling at this girl to give me another mission to complete for her. What is going on here? Yes, she’s gorgeous—though most of her beauty is hidden behind hair and oversized clothes. She’s obviously sweet, too, with an angelic voice. Apparently she’s smart as a whip. All of those things make her impressive, but nothing explains my intense reaction to her. No, it’s coming from somewhere deeper. Jesus, it’s coming from my fucking soul. The soul that is about to leave my body if I don’t touch her. If I don’t establish that she’s mine.

Suddenly, I’m feverish and aching and burning with that need.

To make her mine.

“Should w-we get started?” Iris asks, her cheeks flushed.

Probably because I’m staring at her like a wolf who has just crossed paths with a lamb.

Hands trembling, she opens the textbook in her lap and blinks at me. “Teddy?” She wets her wide mouth and my dick leaps in response. “Do you mind me asking…” She tucks some hair behind her ear, cheeks coloring. “It’s none of my business, but I overheard my roommate saying you got in trouble for v-vandalism. Among other things. And the dean

told me you’ve always been a good student, but you’re having trouble now.” Her delicate throat works with a swallow. “Did something happen?”

“Yes.” I haven’t spoken to anyone about this. Not the therapists arranged by my coaches. Not my mother or friends. No one. But as soon as this girl asks me to open up, everything spills out of me like water from a dam. “My father died. He…fell asleep behind the wheel.” Frustration wells inside of me. “What the fuck? Why the hell did he do that? A ten-minute drive from the o ce to home. I don’t…I don’t get it.”

There’s no pity in her expression. Only quiet understanding. “You’re mad at him.”

“Yes.” But that’s when I realize, the anger inside me has gone silent for the first time in months—and I go toward her like a thirsty man goes toward a well.

CHAPTER TWO

Iris

How am I supposed to concentrate on the development of human civilization in Ancient Greece when this man is looming in front of me? Why won’t he sit down? He started to take a place beside me on the thin mattress, but made a sound and started pacing with clenched fists.

Yes, I really should have Googled him prior to this tutoring session. Or actually watched one of the division one football games on television. At least that way I would have been prepared for the god—speaking of Ancient Greece— that walked into my room. He’s well over six foot five, bronzed and…thick. Everywhere. So muscular that his jeans and grey, long-sleeved T-shirt are struggling not to burst at the seams. His physique would have been enough to render him a distraction, but he had to be handsome on top of being strong, didn’t he? His dark hair is windblown, eyes light brown, stubble gracing his jaw.

A man. A grown man.

The campus hero who will not play in the championship game unless I can get him to pass Western Civilization. That

pressure has been weighing down on my shoulders since the dean asked me for the favor. Of course I said yes. I’m lucky just to be here. Lucky to be attending a university without paying a single dime. Tutoring the quarterback is the least I can do in exchange for my good fortune. So many people will never get this opportunity.

“Do you want to sit down?” I ask, opening the textbook and smoothing out the sheet tucked in between the pages.

My notes for our first session.

When he hesitates, raking a hand through his hair, something humiliating occurs to me. What if he thinks I’m…

I’m hitting on him? Asking him to sit on my bed? What was I thinking?

I shoot to my feet, fumbling the textbook in my hands.

“I-I’m sorry. I should have asked you to meet me in the library.”

“No, it’s fine.” He’s staring at me with that strange intensity again. Like he’s restraining himself. From what?

“It’s fine, I’m just…I’m trying to calm down first.”

Calm down?

Confused, I lower myself back down to the mattress, noting that his jaw looks ready to pop free of its hinge.

“You’re not this mad over my roommate, are you?”

“I’m not mad.” He tugs on the ends of his hair. “I’m always mad, Iris. Just not right now.”

The textbook sits forgotten in my lap, his tortured energy holding me in thrall.

He stops pacing and shakes his head. “I’m not putting any more of that on you.” I start to tell him it’s okay. This larger-than-life man must have a million friends who would gladly lend him a shoulder to lean on or a listening ear, but if he wants to confide in me, a stranger, I would listen. Of course I would. But he speaks before I can make the o er.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

I have to slap a hand over my mouth to mu e the laugh.

“What?” He frowns, fingers curling into his palms. “You do, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t. I’ve never…” Why would I volunteer something so embarrassing? The beginning of my sentence dangles there between us, until I have no choice but to complete it. “I’ve never even been on a date.” Fire engulfs my cheeks and I flip clumsily through the textbook.

“Shouldn’t we be s-studying?”

“Yeah. We probably should be.” He plants his hands on his knees and leans down until our faces are even. “So. No boyfriend, Iris?”

Why is he asking? Maybe I’m such an anomaly in his world of television cameras and touchdowns, he’s fascinated by my celibate lifestyle. I shake my head.

His eyelids grow heavy with relief, his shoulders relaxing.

“Saves me some time,” he mutters, straightening. Looking around the room. “I have an apartment o campus. You’ll have a lot more space there.” This time when he looks at me, his eyes seem a lot darker. “We will.”

“Oh.” I stand up again, holding the open textbook to my chest. That’s when I notice how fast my heart is beating. And my knees are sort of wobbly. Because of Teddy Xavier? I’ve never had this kind of reaction to anything or anyone before.

Why does the first time have to be with a nationally admired quarterback? “You want us to study at your apartment, instead?”

A line moves in his cheek and for a moment, he looks almost amused. But only for a moment. Then he’s deadly serious. “I’m going to need a lot of tutoring, Iris. Day and night. For years. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“No,” I whisper, honestly. This happens a lot. I was raised in a quiet orphanage by a nun named Sister Mary Donovan

who’d taken a vow of silence. I’m not great at interacting with people, let alone very tall, very good-looking men who smell like fresh rain. “I’m sorry.”

He swallows. “Don’t apologize. It’s me. I’m going too fast, doing this all wrong. Jesus, you fucking fluster me, honey.

You know that?” His laughter is strained. “Let’s take this slower, okay?”

I don’t know what else do but nod, sitting back down on the bed. As a matter of fact, I’ve stood up and sat down so many times since he arrived, I might as well be in mass. I duck my chin into my chest to suppress a laugh—and that’s when Teddy drops down beside me. Hard. All of his weight lands on the spot to my left and I go flying, catapulted straight into the air.

“Iris!”

He catches me in mid-air and jerks me down into his lap protectively.

Now, my mouth is right below his. His eyes search mine with a lot more worry than the situation warrants. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m—” I break o on a moan when his hand lifts to cradle the side of my face. His palm touches my bare skin and…and every nerve ending in my body screams in delight. Screams.

Powerful enough to shatter glass. Or me, rather. I’m shattering, shaking. Moaning again.

Mentally, I know I’m embarrassing myself.

I know that.

But physically, I can’t stop rubbing my cheek into his palm, barely capable of keeping my eyes open, the rush of sensations is so large. Consuming.

“I’m s-sorry,” I stammer. “I’m just not used to…I haven’t been touched by anyone. I can’t remember the last

time. Sister might have given me a hug on my fifteenth birthday…”

Teddy’s breath accelerates, his dark brows slashing together. “I don’t understand. You haven’t been touched at all since you were fifteen?” His thumb brushes my cheekbone and I go limp with a sob, but his strong arms tighten and hold me up easily. “Ah honey. What about your parents?”

My brain is so muddled by the warmth of his hand, the tingles his touch spreads all the way to my belly, I can barely explain. “I was put up for adoption when I was eleven. They needed someone to help out at the monastery and I was adopted. By the church.”

He processes that with a deep look of concentration, his rough knuckle trailing along the curve of my jaw, down the side of my neck, making me gasp. “How did you end up here? You’re a freshman, right? You have to be. I would have seen you. Known you were here…somehow.”

I’m trying to grasp what he’s saying to me, but his knuckle is in the hollow of my throat now, then it’s traveling lower. Looking me in the eye, Teddy pops open the buttons of my cardigan, one by one. But when he starts to spread it open, I regain my senses and grab his wrist to stop him. “II’m not wearing anything underneath this.”

“That’s okay, Iris. That’s good. From now on, I’m the one who gets to look. I’m the only one who is allowed.

Understood?” I nod, barely cognizant of what I’m agreeing to, only that looking into this man’s eyes while he’s touching me feels infinitely right. Like it was inevitable long before he walked through the door tonight. “If my hand feels good on your face, think of how nice it’ll feel on your tits, honey.”

Tits.

I’ve never heard that word out loud before.

Some of the language around campus is “salty” as Sister would call it in those rare times she wasn’t living in silence, but I’ve yet to hear any sexual references being tossed around. To be fair, I normally put my head down and power walk between classes, because I’m so overwhelmed by the size of the university. The multitude of people. It’s so much bigger and busier than anywhere I’ve ever seen or been. It’s safer to stick to my books and assignments. “I…I don’t know.”

Something hard is pressing to my bottom. I wiggle around on the large object, trying to discern its exact shape. When Teddy grits his teeth and curses, it dawns on me. It’s his hard penis. He’s…aroused? I’ve read about male sexual response in my health class, though I admit I skimmed a little, it made my private parts feel uncomfortably warm. “Is that permission, Iris?” he pants. “Is that tight ass telling me yes, Teddy, play with my tits?”

The temperature in the room is a million degrees, right?

What was I thinking, wearing a sweater? Sure, it’s a cold fall night, but I’m in flames. And I have that odd, melting sensation between my thighs again, about a hundred times worse than when I read about male arousal in health class.

Because this is real. This man is real and he’s erect for me, for some strange reason. I’m scrawny and quiet and unpolished. I can’t possibly be what he’s used to.

Still, his touch feels so startlingly amazing, I find myself whispering, “Yes.” In a split second, the textbook has been knocked onto the floor and my back is being pressed to the mattress. His eyes are glittering, hands unsteady as he shoves open the sides of my cardigan. “Holy…fuck.” He drops his face down between my breasts, making a sound that’s a cross between an inhale and a snarl. “Ah, honey. They’re so fucking pretty. Going to come just looking at them. Sweet Jesus.”

I don’t know when it happens because I’m reeling from his words, from the pleasure they give me, but both of my wrists are in his left hand and pinned over my head, his tongue licking up and over one of my nipples, sti ening it instantly, painfully, his right hand squeezing the opposite mound in a possessive grip.

And…I implode. I lose the ability to think. The region between my legs, which I’ve never explored or spared a lot of thought for, gathers up so forcefully it makes me whimper, then scream, my legs thrashing…and I…is this an orgasm? I see nothing. I feel only ripple after wave after torrent of pleasure burn through my belly, my femininity, my back arching up o the bed, wrists straining in his grip. All the while, he looks down at me in pained awe. Lustful shock.

“Teddy.”

“Good girl. Call for me,” he rasps, still teasing my nipples with his fingers, prolonging the roil of harsh tugs and mighty twists beneath my belly button. Release. It’s neverending and it’s so deep, so wild, so necessary. “Call for your man.”

My man. Yes. In that moment, I commit blasphemy.

Because I pray to him. I pray to this man, recognizing him as my new savior. The one whose touch holds me in such a deep thrall that I can’t reason or breathe. “…thy kingdom come…thy will be done…”

I’m halfway through the Our Father, having replaced God’s name with Teddy’s. Sister would be so disappointed in me. She’d wring her hands and lock me in the confessional.

As long as this man visits me there, I don’t care. I don’t care.

I don’t care.

I must lose consciousness for a moment.

Or an hour. The passage of time has no meaning anymore.

My legs are still shaking.

I turn my head and watch Teddy pack my things into the suitcase that I keep under my bed. It doesn’t take him long, because I don’t own much. When he’s finished, he picks me up like a child and I wrap my legs around his waist, bury my face in his neck and let him carry me out of the dorm full of gaping students, the wheels of my suitcase squeaking behind us.

“Let’s go home, honey.”

CHAPTER THREE

Teddy

When I wake up, she’s gone.

It’s like having a claw hammer buried in my skull.

I dive out of bed with a bellow, clutching at the sheets like I’m going to find her hidden in there. Where the hell did she go? Where the fuck did she go?

The anger has returned with a vengeance in her absence.

I scratch at my chest until blood shows up in angry welts.

When she was in my arms, the snakes were kept at bay. Now she’s gone and they’re bigger, more vicious.

“Iris!”

I rampage through my apartment, knocking trophies o shelves. Pictures of me with the university president, the governor. People who mean nothing to me.

There’s just her now. There’s only her.

Just before I reach the kitchen, I stumble to a stop in front of a picture of my father. Standing beside me as confetti rains down, the marching band behind us, batons raised.

Gone. The only other person to ever mean anything to me.

Gone. The snake fangs dig into my stomach with more force

and I almost go down on my knees. Need her. I need her here now.

Do I even have her phone number?

My laughter doesn’t hold a single note of amusement. I brought her here to live with me last night and I don’t even have her phone number. Just an email address. I slide down the wall and bury my face in my hands, trying to breathe through the chaos in my head. Think. Think.

It’s not an easy feat. Thinking. I haven’t gotten my cock into her yet and every cell in my body is blisteringly aware of that fact. When we walked through my door last night, she was clinging to me, so trusting, her angelic face softened in sleep and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t spread her legs open in my bed and fuck her the way I need to. Rough and fast.

She had an orgasm from a couple licks of her nipples.

Sex with this girl is going to be phenomenal. I’m salivating for it. I’m planning the next fifty positions I’m going to take her tight little body in. And there will be fifty more after that. Fifty more, fifty more, fifty more until the end of time, because she’s mine. She’s the antidote to the ugliness growing inside of me, so where the hell has she gone?

Surging back to my feet, I tear at my hair, frustration burning up my esophagus— But then I see the note.

There is a paper with words on it taped to my refrigerator.

I don’t breathe until it’s in my hands. Until I’ve read the daintily written script.

Good morning. I have political science at 8:20. Hope I see you later. -Iris “Hope I see you later?” I growl. “You hope?”

Political science. I have no idea which building. Which lecture hall. There are barely any clues to go on here and I want to find her. Immediately.

I slap the note back onto the refrigerator so we can have a very serious discussion about it later. Preferably when she’s stu ed full of my cock, not a stitch of clothing on that body of hers. And I’ll inform her in no uncertain terms that there is no hope involved. There are no maybes in this relationship.

She’s going to see me later every day for the rest of her life.

Not even bothering to attempt to calm myself down, I find my phone on the counter and dial administration, asking for the dean by his first name. The man wears my jersey number on the sideline at games, so the secretary doesn’t hesitate to put me straight through.

“Teddy,” he answers, immediately. “How did the tutoring session go with Ms. Stirling? If you don’t like her, we can find you someone else—” I interrupt him with a hoarse laugh. “That won’t be happening. She’s perfect.”

Understatement.

She quiets the demons inside of me. She grounds me, makes me feel like more than a wounded beast. She’s soft and horny and…I think she’s a little broken, like me. If she can help me glue together the shit show I’ve made of my life, I can do the same for her. I will. She’ll never go another day without being touched and treasured.

Need my hands on her now.

He chuckles happily. “That’s wonderful to hear. Only our best and brightest tutor for the star quarterback. We can’t have you missing the championship game over one failed class.”

That comment shoots a spear into my stomach and without turning around, I can feel that picture of me and my dad staring me in the back. If he knew I was not only failing a class, but that I’d gotten arrested for vandalism, he would be appalled. He isn’t here anymore, though, is he? He checked out and now I’m supposed to continue on as if

everything is normal. As if the outcome of a fucking football game matters.

Right now, in this moment, there is only one thing that matters and every second that passes without her is unacceptable. I won’t be able to think straight until she’s back in my arms. “I need a favor,” I say, cooling my hot forehead on the stainless steel of the refrigerator. “I need a copy of Iris Stirling’s class schedule.”

A beat of silence passes, the dean beginning to stutter. “I can’t just…that’s private information, Teddy. If she wants you to have it, can’t she just give it to you?” He laughs.

“There isn’t a girl on campus that wouldn’t be thrilled to have you so interested—” “She’s not other girls.” My temper is rising, hot and sharp. Uncontrollable. I want to pick up the refrigerator and throw it across the room. A clammy layer of sweat has formed on my back. I’m a mess and she’s my lifeline. I want the calm back. “I don’t even think she has a phone, so I can’t text and ask where her class this morning is located. Send me the schedule.”

“Ah. Huh.” He’s still uncomfortable. There are rules against this kind of thing because of stalking. And yeah, he’s probably right not to give me her schedule, because I will absolutely be stalking Iris. Crazy, considering females have never been more than a temporary diversion to me. Not this one, though. Not this one. “You’re putting me in a tough position here, Teddy,” says the dean, his leather chair groaning down the line. “It’s unethical.”

“So is my o -campus apartment paid for by the university. Technically, wasn’t that considered a gift, so I’d come play football here?”

He coughs. A few more seconds go by. When I hear the tapping of keys, my fist that was preparing to bash in the

cabinet door relaxes. “I’ll send it from a private email. Please keep this between us.”

“Yeah. It’s our secret,” I say, hanging up.

What’s not going to be a secret? The fact that Iris is mine.

I’m going to make that infinitely clear this morning.

CHAPTER FOUR

Iris

I’m in the front row of my political science class, head bowed forward so I can create a little world of my own inside the safety of my hair. It shields me from the rest of the class and stops me from getting too overwhelmed by the sheer number of people surrounding me. If I think about it too much, my stomach will pitch and I won’t be able to concentrate on a single word the professor is saying. Although this morning, it’s di cult to concentrate no matter what, isn’t it?

What happened last night?

Humiliation is a rotating ball of fire in my belly. I can’t believe…so many things.

Where do I start?

One, after doing some Googling while waiting for class to start, I found out how weird it is to orgasm so quickly—and without any stimulation between my legs. I’m a freak. A total freak. The star of the football team breathed on me and I basically acted like I was possessed.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, I fell asleep.

He brought me home for sex, obviously. He’s a virile athlete and he was erect—I felt it—and I was too exhausted from being touched, from the rush of exhilaration and pleasure, to even keep my eyes open. God, he must have been disappointed. He brought home a dud. A dud given to bouts of narcolepsy.

My face is crawling with fire ants. I sink lower into my seat. Tug down my skirt to cover my knees, because I can tell they’re pink, as well. I’m flushed everywhere. Not only from the memory of him looking at my breasts. Licking them. No, the memory of him holding me as I slept is enough to make me achy and restless. I’ve never been held before. Not like that. Not so tightly, every inch of me fitted to hard male muscle. Not to mention that big, sti part of him that was wedged between my butt cheeks when I woke up.

Did he really want to put it inside of me?

Like, all of it?

I’m ripped from my ongoing worries when everyone around me breaks into hoots and whistles and applause.

What’s going on?

I glance up and find my political science professor looking reluctantly amused, his gaze fastened to the entrance.

Carefully, I push aside some of my hair so I can figure out what is causing the commotion.

My breath is swiped clean out of my lungs when I see Teddy leaning against the wall, just inside the door of my lecture hall. Arms crossed, stance cocky. He looks like the cover of those Sports Illustrated magazines I see sometimes at the drugstore. Everyone is going wild, pounding their desks and chanting his name, reciting some football cheer I’ve never heard. He salutes the admiring crowd and they go absolutely wild. Girls are screaming and fanning themselves.

A group of guys are trying to start a wave. But Teddy…

His attention is zeroed in on me.

I attempt to breathe, but I can’t. My nipples bead inside my big, loose button-down shirt—a hand-me-down from one of the smaller priests at the monastery. Fists pound the desks behind me, matching the rapid beats of my heart.

Oh God. What if he’s here to make fun of me? To all of these people?

I’m the girl who he carried across campus last night, completely comatose. He brought me home expecting something and I slept like the dead, instead of giving it to him. On top of that, I had the nerve to leave him a note. Hope I see you later. He probably thinks I’m pitiful. Pathetic. He— “Mr. Xavier,” calls the professor, signaling for the class to quiet down. “To what do we owe the honor of your illustrious presence?”

He wets his bottom lip, those eyes never leaving me once.

“Just here to pick up my girl,” he explains in that deep, rich voice. “We have plans.”

Every head in the lecture hall swivels in my direction, whispers and full-on cries of denial rising up around me. In the matter of a split second, I’m the center of attention.

People are speculating on my name, they’re judging my attire and asking where I came from. I sink lower into my chair, my chin buried in my chest. This has to be a nightmare. This can’t be real. He’s definitely joking about me being his girl. He probably already wheeled the suitcase back to my dorm and washed his sheets clean of my scent.

A brand new pair of black Nike running shoes appear in front of me.

The lecture hall is dead silent now.

“Ready to go, honey?”

There goes the whispering again.

“Uh, Mr. Xavier,” ventures my professor. “We’re in the middle of a lecture…”

Teddy ignores the man, holding his hand out to me. When I say that my body gravitates toward him like the ocean to the shore, it’s no exaggeration. Especially when I finally look up through my curtains of hair and his intensity sinks into me, hot and deep, and my pulse becomes cannon fire in my ears. My savior. It’s what my heart and body and mind, maybe even my soul, insisted on calling him last night. I’m right back there now, getting lost in the burn of his light brown eyes, the blatant hunger etched into every line of his handsome face.

“Iris,” he says.

I’m standing before I realize what I’m doing, my small hand locked inside his much larger one. He picks up my books in the opposite hand and guides me out of the classroom to a renewed chorus of hoots and whistles. My face burns at the attention and I have the impulse to bury my face in his shoulder. As if Teddy can read my mind, he hauls me into his side, using his body to shield me from attention.

But it’s too late for that, isn’t it? I’ve just walked out of class twenty minutes early with the campus hero. Farewell anonymity.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, once we’re in the empty hallway. “Is s-something wrong?”

“Yes,” he says without missing a beat, that square jaw grinding. “You left my bed, honey. That’s a huge problem.”

My back is flattened against the wall, his hard body pressing me there. Tight.

The books he’s holding are dropped to the ground and he moans, dipping his hips and rocking them into mine, a long, shaky male exhale releasing into my neck.

“Woke up so motherfucking hard for you, Iris,” he groans. “God.” More heat blasts my cheeks. “I know. I know…you probably…I didn’t mean to disappoint you like that. I—”

His gaze pins me sharply. “Disappoint me?”

“Well I went home with you and that’s kind of an, um… unspoken understanding that we’re going t-to have…to have…”

He’s nodding. “That we’re going to fuck.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “And then I passed out like an idiot after…after giving you the impression we would do…more. I bet that’s never happened to you before.”

“We’re never going to talk about what I did before you.

That shit doesn’t matter.” Suddenly, he looks nervous, his throat muscles shifting in a pattern. “Does it? You don’t think less of me because I…” Regret is visibly eating him alive. “I didn’t know you were out there, in the world. But now I do. Now the thought of anyone but you makes me sick.”

I don’t have a chance to answer him—or marvel over the fact that he doesn’t seem the least bit disappointed, at least not in anyone but himself—because he’s picking me up and carrying me across the hall to another room. A lecture hall.

This one is empty.

Teddy kicks the door shut behind us, carries me to the front of the room and settles me on the professor’s desk.

Then he plants his hands on either side of me, bracing himself, breathing hard. Erratically. “Teddy—” “Punch me in the face.”

“What?”

“Punch me. Hard. Make me su er for what I did before you.”

“No! No.” I launch myself o the desk, wrapping my arms around his neck. Holding tight. He makes a hoarse animal sound and crushes me to his body, breathing hard into my neck. “I don’t want to hit you. I’m not upset. You don’t have any obligation to me—”

“Yes, I fucking do,” he growls. “What aren’t you understanding? I brought you home last night to live with me. You are my girlfriend now. You…” He sort of deflates, stumbling forward with me, my butt hitting the surface of the desk again, and then he’s gathering me close, so close, his hips making a home between my splayed thighs. “The second I saw you sitting in there, so sweet in the front row, the anger went away. You take it all away. I will die to be obligated to you. Do you get what I’m saying?”

How can I not?

He’s holding nothing back.

This is…happening. It’s real. But of course I’m having a hard time understanding why. Why this modern-day god wants me. Needs me. I’m meek where he’s demanding. I’m small while he’s huge. I’m private while he’s public. It shouldn’t make sense and yet, it’s there. I feel the inescapable nature of this relationship, too. This inevitability between us. The gravity. My body is clamoring, pulse pounding, heart in my throat. His mouth on my neck is tightening my womanhood and I’m gasping, yanking him toward me, too, desperate to feel as much of him as possible.

What is this? Obsession?

“You get it now. You get it.”

“Yes.” My mouth is open against his cheek. I’m dazed, barely aware of where we are. Our surroundings. What day it is. “Yes, I get it.”

A shudder goes through him. “You’re going to tell me every single thing about you. All right? Everything. Every like and dislike. Everything that scares you or makes you happy. I want to know about them.” He jerks me to the edge of the desk. “But right now, I need to make you come. Can’t concentrate. Not until you’re sitting in a puddle on this desk.”

“A p-puddle?”

“Fuck yes.” He’s slowly pushing the skirt up my thighs.

“I know you’re a virgin, honey. There’s a lot I’ll be showing and explaining to you. But number one, number goddamn one, is that your pussy makes a mess when I’m around. A creamy little mess.”

His palms on my bare thighs make me tremble. Head falling back, I send a whimper of his name toward the high ceiling. “T-Teddy.”

“I’m here. I’m right here.” He leaves the hem of my skirt where it barely hides my panties. And then his hands slide back down my thighs to clutch my knees, gently easing them open. Leaning back to peer between my legs and letting out a rocky exhale over what he sees. What panties did I wear today? Gray cotton? “All it takes is my skin on yours, huh?

And you’re drenched. I love that and I hate it. Love it because you’re responding to me, getting ready for pleasure. But I hate knowing how bad you’ve needed touching. Years of it.

My girl. Su ering.” His eyes darken. “That makes me a little insane, you know that?”

From somewhere inside me comes a wave of bravery.

Confidence. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me like I’m his last meal. Whatever the reason, I lean back on the desk and inch my legs open a little wider. “M-maybe you should make up for l-lost time.”

He pu s a breath, looking momentarily dazed before the lust sweeps in and he drops to his knees, his tongue snaking out to wet that chiseled lower lip. “Christ. Did you just innocently ask me to lick your pussy, honey?” He bites the inside of my knee with a snarl. “That was so fucking hot. I’m never going to be the same. I might…fuck. I might come in my pants—hold on.”

His huge body shakes for several moments, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Is he really…could he really climax so easily?

And what he said…about licking…is that real?

I should have done a lot more Googling this morning.

“I-I…no. I didn’t even know you could put your mouth there.” His head lifts, eyes pinning me to the desk, my skin swamped with heat once again. Flushed is my new default. “I just thought you would want to put your…your…”

“My cock?”

Fire ants. Everywhere. “There. Yes.” “So that thing you did, opening your legs wider to show me your drenched little cunt, was an invitation to fuck you?”

“Isn’t that what men and women do together?”

“I’m tempted to say yes. The answer is yes. But you’re a virgin, Iris. You’re my girlfriend and it would hurt this way.”

He blows out a sudden breath, looking almost dizzy. “And if you think it makes me insane to think of you lonely without so much as a hug for years, you don’t want to know what happens in my brain when I think of you hurt. I could commit murder.”

“You’d never hurt me,” I say, with absolute conviction, my heart wedging painfully into my throat, my flesh throbbing, aching for his touch. There. Where no one has ever touched me, but instinctively I understand that he owns it. He owns me there. Right or wrong, it’s fact.

“No. No. I’d never hurt you.” He kisses his way up my inner thighs, right and left, his fingers twisting in the sides of my panties and tugging down, encouraging me without words to lift my hips and let them come o . Let my…my boyfriend shed my panties. “Iris,” he rasps, seemingly in awe of what he has uncovered.

“Yes?” “Your pussy…”

I hold my breath and wait.

“I just finished telling you I’d never hurt you, but…” His warm breath travels over my soaked womanhood and that

alone is almost enough to push me to the edge. “But honey, I might. I might hurt it sometimes. Just a little. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep from…” The rest is gritted through his teeth. “Christ, I’m going to pound that sweet fucking thing.”

My thighs try to shoot together from the sheer force of my orgasm. The hands I’m using to prop myself up slide sideways and I almost fall, but manage to catch myself on my elbows while the monstrous pleasure undulates through me, ripping the breath out of my lungs and constricting those low intimate muscles. And the pulsing, the pulsing, it won’t stop. “Teddy!”

“Jesus Christ.” He grips my hips, presses my legs open with his broad shoulders and buries his mouth against my spasming flesh. “You’re a miracle. My miracle.” His tongue parts my sex in one long savoring drag. “Sweet. Sweet girl, Iris. Come for your man. However you want, whenever you want. As long as I’m here to lick it up.”

“Oh my…oh my…” I whimper, my fingers finding purchase in his hair. Holding him closer. Scooting to the very, very edge of the desk and writhing, lifting, so I can feel more of his tongue. I’m blind. I’m shaking. I can’t believe how good it feels. God oh God oh God. “Teddy. More.”

His licks turn frantic.

Desperate.

He uses his fingers to spread me open and he flattens that tongue against me again, again, again, making me gasp and sweat and sob, another powder keg of sensations preparing to detonate inside of me. And this time, I know how incredible it will be. I trust Teddy is there to catch me, so I race toward it, screaming behind my teeth when he tucks his tongue just inside of me and rotates the tip quickly, quickly, waking up nerve endings I didn’t even know existed.

“I want to fuck you,” he grates against my femininity.

Lapping, lapping.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.” Any way to feel closer to him. My boyfriend. My savior.

“No, you can’t. You can’t.” He seems to be arguing with himself. Then to me, he says, “I’m saving such a fat nut for you, honey. It’s going to look like someone spilled a gallon of milk on this virgin pussy when I finally get into it.”

With that, he closes his lips around this place, this spot he’s been licking that feels so incredible and he gives it a raspberry, suctioning lightly, and my back arches involuntarily, another, more powerful tidal wave of pleasure pulling me down into a whirlpool of blind sensation, my sex tightening and releasing, releasing wetness, my secret muscles screaming with relief and shock. “Teddy,” I whine, voice jagged, high pitched, fingers yanking on the ends of his hair while lust makes me its prisoner. And then I finally collapse, limp on the desk, once again boneless in his presence, just like last night.

He wraps me in his powerful arms, picks me up and sits down in the professor’s chair, rocking me in his lap. I feel his hardness beneath my bottom and I want to ease that pain. I don’t know how I’m so positive there is pain involved.

Maybe it’s the rigidity of his muscles or the way he’s still breathing hard. But I want to be his antidote. My gut, my soul, my mind are telling me he’s my responsibility. I’m his and he’s mine.

Somewhere in the room, there is something buzzing. A phone?

Teddy seems to know who is calling and why, because he sighs into my hair. “It’s probably my coach. I’m late for practice.”

I nod, starting to sit up.

He pulls me back into his embrace, tighter than before.

“No.” “No?”

“No leaving me. No sneaking out of our bed in the morning. Just no.” He kisses a path from my shoulder blade up to my ear. “I’ve never felt anything like this, didn’t even know I could, so try and be patient with me. I’m possessive as fuck over you. I know what it means to be abusive, Iris, and Jesus, everything I want from you fits that bill.”

Concern sweeps into my chest, battling with joy. I don’t understand these conflicting emotions. What is wrong with me? How is this happening so fast? Yesterday the most important part of my life was an education. Now he’s blocking out the sun. Demanding every ounce of my attention. “What do you want from me…that’s abusive?”

“For one, I just interrupted your class and carried you out of there without permission. Did it last night, too. I’m controlling you. I’m taking up all of your air and I…like it.

Love it. I want to be the center of your universe because you’re the center of mine.” He breaks o , shuddering.

“Goddammit, I need to fuck you so bad. I want that cherry dripping down my cock. My thoughts are sick when you’re so innocent. Young, too. Eighteen.”

“You’re only four years older than me, right?” I breathe, threading my fingers through his hair. Driven to comfort him, even as he details his “abusive” behavior. The fact that he doesn’t want to stop. Warning me that it will escalate.

Why is excitement fluttering in every cell of my body? I need to get control of this. Of myself and him, before this gets carried away. “You can’t take me out of classes anymore, Teddy. You have to let me learn.”

Soulful eyes lift to mine, perturbed and slightly dangerous. “There are men in your classes, Iris.” His chest rises and falls faster. “Sitting close enough to smell you. I can’t stand it.” Thoughts churn behind his light brown gaze.

“I’ll let you go to classes if I can spray you in my cologne in

the mornings. And you wear my jacket. All day, no taking it o .”

My mouth drops open. “It’s going to be like wearing a tent.”

He grins. “Exactly.”

I hu a breath, looking down at my oversized shirt. “I guess it won’t be that di erent from what I usually wear.”

“I love the way you dress.” He presses his tongue to the base of my neck, right on top of the pulse. “I love every damn thing about you, honey. Tonight at home, I’ll kiss every single one.” When his phone begins buzzing again, he curses, thinks for a second. “Yup. You’re coming to practice with me.”

“What?” I blink, trying to scramble o his lap, but he easily keeps hold of me. He stands up and urges my legs around his waist, gaze darkening when I continue to struggle. It takes me several seconds to realize I’m wiggling all over his erection. “I have to go back to class.”

“You’re a genius. You’ll catch up in no time.” He coaxes me into a kiss, giving me a pleading look that I have to admit is extremely persuasive. Is this beautiful man really my boyfriend now? “Come watch me play football? I need you where I can see you. Still haven’t recovered from waking up alone. Still waiting for an apology for that, by the way.”

“Keep waiting,” I tease him.

He rolls his hips, groaning. “Honey, believe me. If I can wait until tonight for this tight pussy, I can wait for an apology.” His hands find my bottom beneath my skirt, kneading each bun with relish. “And I can think of a lot of ways to get it out of you.”

Playfulness comes naturally with him, I find. A side of me I’ve never been able to explore. “Maybe I can negotiate your cologne rule in the same ways.”

“That is non-negotiable, honey.” He narrows his eyes at me, a smile playing around his beautiful mouth. “But I want to hear more about your tactics.”

I purse my lips, trying not to look as shy as I feel. “I’ll need some time with Google first.”

“Fuck Google.” He grips my bottom hard, walks me toward the door. “I’m your search engine, honey, and I run all night.” Before I can respond to that boast, he bites my neck. “You stay where I can see you during practice, understand?”

I should probably kick him. Or say no, at the very least.

But I’d be lying to myself if I pretended his possessiveness didn’t excite me. If I pretended it didn’t feel right and inevitable. If I pretended it didn’t make need course through me like a wild river.

“Yes, Teddy,” I murmur, laying my head on his shoulder and letting him carry me away.

CHAPTER FIVE

Teddy

Bringing Iris to practice was a mistake. A huge one.

That much becomes obvious the second we arrive.

I’ve never had a girlfriend before, so I didn’t recognize the error in judgment I made until now, when it’s too late.

When every single one of my teammates is gawking at her from the field. All of the groupies that watch from the stands zero in on her like vultures. I have the urge to pick her up again and leave. Take her home, lock the door and block out the world.

I’ve put her under a microscope.

Everyone is curious about her now. I’ve barged into her class and declared her my girlfriend. News has probably already traveled about that. And now I’ve towed her along to the football field, her delicate little hand trembling in mine because of all the staring. I’m such an asshole. I didn’t even stop to consider how terrifying this would be for her. For a hundred men, including players and sta and physical therapists, to be openly speculating about her.

“Iris…” I pivot at the edge of the field, blocking her from everyone’s view. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think this through. I’ll bring you home.”

She steels herself. “No, it’s okay. Once you’re out on the field, they’ll s-stop staring.”

I frown. “Why?” “Because their attention is for you.”

“No, it’s not, Iris. They’re looking at you.”

She blinks. “Why?” “Why?” I take her face in my hands. Is she serious?

“Because you’re fucking gorgeous, that’s why. And damn, honey, you’re glowing from the head I gave you.”

Her puzzlement shows. “No one ever stared at me before.”

“You were hiding. But now…” Dread churns in my stomach. “Now, I’ve made them all aware of you. I didn’t consider what I was doing.”

Glancing back over my shoulder, I curse myself to hell. In the space of an hour, I’ve made everyone on this campus aware that Iris is a commodity. I know what they’re thinking.

She must be something special, something hot, if the NFLbound quarterback has taken himself o the market—and they want to know more. Fuck that. She’s mine and mine alone.

God, I want to go back in time and…

And what?

There’s no way to make this situation better. I’m a nationally ranked collegiate athlete with a barrage of recent troubles. Yet I’m still being scouted for next season’s NFL draft. All eyes are on me, all the time. And now they’re on her, too. I can’t escape the limelight and neither can she. I didn’t give her a choice, did I? I can’t. There’s only one option and it’s being together, so I guess I have to get used to this?

One of the player’s girlfriends approaches cautiously.

I’ve met her before but can’t remember her name.

“Uh, Teddy?” The girlfriend’s gaze is fastened on my hands. My fingers are buried in Iris’s hair and I’m holding her face to my chest. When did I start breathing so hard? “Do you want to introduce me to your…friend?”

“Girlfriend,” I correct, hoarsely. I can’t help claiming her.

Mine, mine, mine.

“Girlfriend. Wow.” Her interest grows. “Well, I’m watching practice from the stands. She can come sit with me and the others while you’re on the field, if you want.”

I scrutinize the girl, trying to figure out if she’s being friendly or if she has an ulterior motive. Of course she does.

She wants to be the first to meet Iris, the girl who locked down Teddy Xavier for life. But since I can’t leave Iris alone without worrying, this girl might be the lesser of two evils.

“Yeah.” I kiss Iris’s forehead, absorbing her scent. Her warmth. The goodness she permeates me with. “That okay with you, honey?”

“Yes.” She smiles up at me, brighter than sunshine. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

No. No, she’s going to disappear or fall and get hurt or get swallowed up by a sinkhole. A million other possibilities bombard me at once. She’s so fragile. She’s not going to be safe anywhere but in my arms. But I’m on thin ice with the team as it is, since my status for the championship game is questionable, due to my failing grade in Western Civilization.

“Later, it’ll just be you and me,” I whisper against her mouth, unable to resist kissing her. A long, slow indulging of her sweet mouth, turned on by the way she gasps when our tongues lick together. “Later.”

Her eyes are a little dazed as they search mine. “I was thinking…”

I tilt her face up, eager to hear what she’s going to say.

“Yeah?”

“There’s a place o campus where I go sometimes. To study. To block out the noise.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I could bring you there after practice.”

In that moment, something occurs to me. Something incredible. I’ve claimed Iris without even asking if I’m what she wants. Maybe I was afraid to ask. But this? Her wanting to share her secrets with me? It’s proof our relationship isn’t one-sided. She wants me back. Thank God. The dread in my stomach dissipates and I can breathe again. “I’ll go anywhere you go. Anywhere.”

“Same,” she says, going up on her toes to kiss my chin shyly. “Anywhere.”

There’s a fucking grapefruit in my throat when she walks away to join the other girl. “Keep her where I can see her,” I bark, already missing the feel of her skin in my hands.

Iris

One of the girls in nice. Mindy. She’s the one who o ered to keep me company while Teddy is practicing. The rest of them scan me like I’m a barcode and decide, apparently, that I need some work. “Oh my God, that skirt,” says one of them —a pretty, raven-haired girl with a dozen hoops in one of her ears. “Are you wearing it that long on purpose?”

Mindy smacks her in the shoulder. “Shut up, Krissy.

Leave her alone.” Her lips tilt up in a smile. “You’re risking the wrath of Teddy Xavier. He’s extremely protective of her.”

“How did you manage to reel that one in?” asks Krissy.

“He’s got a reputation for being ice cold with women. Barely gives them the time of day. Unless he needs to blow o steam, of course, then he just grabs whoever is available—” “Krissy,” Mindy says through her teeth.

My stomach lines itself with lead. I have the urge to leave.

Run. But I suck it up and stay put. I’m not going to let the comments bother me. Of course Teddy was with other women before we met. He admitted as much. And he’s the star quarterback of a division one football team. No one could expect him to live like one of the priests back at the monastery. Not to mention, he feels guilty enough about his actions that he wanted me to punch him in the face. “It’s okay,” I assure Mindy, smiling at her. “Really.”

They fall into a conversation about one of the female professors who was caught with a male student in the parking lot. After hours. They talk about lipstick brands and their plans for the upcoming weekend. Mostly, I watch Teddy. I’ve seen football played on the small television the priests watched at the monastery before, but never paid too close of attention. But Teddy…my boyfriend…he’s extraordinary. I find myself holding my breath when he has the ball, tucking it into his large hands—hands that are so gentle, yet so commanding with me—and fires it o , spiraling it perfectly down the field into the waiting hands of another player.

He turns his head toward the stands after every drill, every play, though I can’t see his eyes from this distance, shaded as they are by his helmet. My palms begin to sweat every time he glances in my direction, a low thrum starting between my thighs. My blood hums, nipples erect. The more I register his sinewy arms and the lines, bulges and musculature outlined in his white football pants, the more I can hear my breaths, loud and shallow in my head.

Wow. He’s really good. Male grace and fearlessness in every movement. At one point, he removes his helmet and dark, sweaty hair lands in a mess around his intense face, his cheekbones colored with exertion and my mouth goes dry as a desert. Is that how he’ll look while we’re…in bed together?

I want to fuck you.

He said that to me in the classroom. In those moments, the possibility seemed very real. Imminent. Teddy on top of me. Inside me. But now, watching this big, strong god avoid tackles and leap over bodies on the field, I cannot imagine him and I together like that. I cannot. He’s like Achilles in battle, ripped from the pages of my Greek mythology text.

I’m, like, a random servant girl in the background. It doesn’t make sense.

And now he’s frowning at me from the sidelines.

Someone is calling his name—a coach—and he turns reluctantly. Puts his helmet back on. That’s when I realize one of the girls is prodding my arm. Krissy, right? Based on her exasperation, she’s been trying to break through my Teddy stupor for quite a while.

“Sorry.” I resist the urge to hide behind my fall of hair. “I got lost in thought.”

Krissy laughs. “Look at that blush, girls. Anyone want to guess what she’s thinking about?” They break into moaning sounds and obscene gestures with their fingers. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess that you’re fantasizing about your boyfriend.”

I shift on the metal seat, hands wrestling in my lap. Isn’t this how girlfriends talk to each other? If I ever want to make friends or at least be accepted, I need to stop being so scandalized. “Guilty as charged,” I mutter, making them laugh.

Most of them, anyway. Krissy isn’t laughing. She looks almost calculating. “Yes, but is he fantasizing about you?”

She squints down at my clothing. “You might be leaving a little too much to the imagination for that.”

“Krissy…” Mindy says in a warning tone. “Leave her alone. I’m telling you, he’s—” “I’m just trying to help her out.” She crooks a finger at me. “Come here. Let’s do something with this outfit. It’s not totally beyond saving. And I have some makeup in my bag.”

My instinct is to say no. I may have grown up sheltered, but I’m not stupid. It’s easy to see Krissy doesn’t have my best interest in mind. But if I’m going to be around these girls a lot, if I’m going to fit in and not be a social outcast, I have to try a little. Make an e ort. And maybe…maybe there is a part of me that wants the help. No one has ever aided me in picking out clothes or putting on makeup or styling my hair. I grew up without a mother. What I had was a distracted guardian—and I was grateful for her. But now? My lack of polish is so glaring compared to these girls. Not to mention, people are going to compare me to Teddy. They’re going to wonder what the hell he’s doing with a girl who barely brushes her hair and wears clothes meant for a man. Maybe a little makeover wouldn’t kill me?

I swallow hard and slide toward Krissy on the metal bench. “Okay…”

Teddy

“Damn. Who is the hot girl in the stands?”

“Haven’t seen her before. Fuck. Those legs are begging to be clamped around my head.”

They shove each other. “After me, bro.”

I don’t even glance up from the playbook. This is normal bullshit from my teammates. They’re always going on and on about women, their bodies. I don’t have the heart to break it to them that all of their groupies look the same. They can’t hold a candle to my Iris. Jesus, I want her. I want her so bad, but I’ve got another half hour of practice until she takes me to her secret place. I’m dying to see it. Dying to know everything about her— “Oh shit, dude. That’s Xavier’s girl.”

“What?” He sounds nervous. “No…she…that’s not how she looked earlier.”

My chin snaps up, something sharp and ugly winding down my throat and wrapping around my vocal cords.

Xavier’s girl. Iris. They’re talking about my Iris? I didn’t even have to say a word when I stepped on the field. It went unspoken that she is o fucking limits. So why are they talking about her? I’m going to break the neck of whoever spoke about her legs out loud.

A roar is building in my chest when I finally spot her— and everything goes silent around me, as if all signs of life have been sucked out of the air. When the noise returns, I’m midway through that bellow. I’ve ripped the helmet o my head and thrown it at the water table, knocking over rows of green paper Gatorade cups.

Iris is watching me approach, wide eyed and shell shocked, but I can’t calm myself down to reassure her. “Who did this?”

I jump the fence separating the field and the stands, my cleats loud on the stairway leading up. Up to her. Where she waits with her skirt rolled up, her flat belly exposed, hair twisted up on top of her head, lips fire-engine red. I’m getting hard even though I hate what they’ve done to her.

There’s no way to stop my cock from reacting to so much of

her skin being exposed, because it’s too succulent, too sweet, too mine. Mine.

Sweet Jesus, those tits.

Whoever did this has taken her out of the giant, buttondown shirt, where I preferred her, and left her in an undershirt that they’ve knotted beneath her breasts. Despite how pissed o I must look, I watch her little nipples bead under the thin material and my balls swell out of my protective cup. Shit. Shit. I’m drawing so much attention to her right now and I shouldn’t be. My teammates are already taking notice of how absolutely gone I am for Iris. These are the most competitive men in the world. They always want the best. They’re always trying to win it for themselves. Not this time.

Not happening.

I have to find a way to fend them o .

She’s only for me. She’s mine to keep.

When I reach Iris, I pull her up against me, looking down into her face. Goddammit, she was already so fucking beautiful, I could barely stand it. But they’ve made her hot and sexy on top of it. Now I’m insane. I’m going insane.

“Give me back her clothes,” I growl, roughly unrolling her skirt, hiding her lithe thighs as quickly as possible. “Who did this to her? She was already perfect. Who did this?”

“I…I just…we were just having some fun,” squeaks some idiot to my left.

I spare her a brief glance, just long enough to discern who is talking. Who is responsible.

I gesture to one of the security guards that has followed me into the stands. “Get her out of here.” I jerk my chin at the idiot. “She doesn’t come back.”

They usher her out of the stands, no questions asked, while she sputters. That’s the kind of power I have around here. That’s the kind of power I’ll have wherever I’m going.

But it’s becoming painfully obvious that I can’t stop people from recognizing that I’ve found the greatest treasure of my life. I can’t stop people from noticing her. Wanting her.

“You’ve overreacting,” she whispers as I untie her hair, arranging it in waves around her shoulders, hiding her delicious neck. Even her ears are tempting. Christ. “You can’t just have her banned from the stadium. She was only trying to help.”

“There is nothing to help,” I rasp. “Where is her shirt?”

Someone puts in my hands and I wrap it around her shoulders, buttoning it with as much e ciency as I can muster when I’m burning alive. Needing her underneath me.

Needing everyone to stop looking at what’s mine. Now. “There’s nothing to help,” Iris says, repeating me. “How can you say that?”

“Because I have eyes, Iris.”

“Then why can’t you see how di erent we are?”

My fingers pause on the final button. “What are you talking about?” She presses her lips together and shakes her head, so I prompt her again, desperate to know what’s going on in her mind. It seems bad. I don’t like it. I take her by the shoulders. “Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You should see yourself down there. You’re amazing,” she breathes for my ears alone. “I just thought…I don’t know. It’s stupid. I just thought you might want someone who matches you a little more?”

I must be dense, because I’m completely lost. “I’m in football pads and a helmet. You’re half naked in lipstick. We don’t match for shit, honey.”

She rolls her eyes at me. Goddamn, it’s sexy. “You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t.” I squeeze her hips in my hands, her exasperation with me really revving my engine. “Did I mention how badly I want to fuck you?”

Pink stains her cheeks and I groan. “Y-yes.”

My cock swells more, the damn cup cutting into my aching junk. “Don’t blush and stutter. You’re making it worse.”

“I-I…I…” This time, my groan is directed at the sky.

“Practice is over!” I shout over my shoulder—and that’s when I notice that, sure enough, everybody in the stadium is watching us. Every. Single. Person. They’ve stopped what they’re doing to witness my jealousy, my possessiveness of Iris. And my teammates are so curious about her now, they’re all but licking their chops.

I have to do something about this.

I can’t have them sni ng around her. I’ll lose my fucking mind.

Forget vandalism, I’ll commit homicide.

“Can you wait here for me here while I wrap things up with my coaches? They need some reassurance that I’m going to pass Western Civilization and suit up for the championship.”

“You are going to pass,” she murmurs, face tilted up to mine in the sunshine. Too beautiful for words. “I’m going to make sure of it. After watching you play…it would be a crime to keep you from this sport, Teddy. You were born to play it.”

My throat aches. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For the first time since my father died, I don’t feel so alone in this stadium.

I kiss her once. Turn to leave, then come back for one more, deeper this time. Then a third, because she’s getting into it, opening her mouth wide for me. Letting me taste every sweet corner. Finally, a whistle is blown and I manage to tear myself away. But now I’m on a mission. Keep other men away from my Iris at all costs. Derail their interest—

and God, do they have interest. Despite the fact that I’ve covered her up, they’re all still staring at her when I reach the field. A manacle clamps around my throat, panic making me sweat.

“Where did you find her?” one of them asks.

“That’s his tutor,” supplies another. “She’s helping him pass Western Civ.” “Yeah,” I say, my voice ragged. I know what I have to do, but the words slice my throat like blades on their way out.

“She’s at the top of her class. Squeaky clean. She’s going to make me look good to pro scouts. Settled down and all that.

That’s all it is.”

“You sure about that?” asks one of my receivers. “You looked pretty into her.”

“What can I say? I’m a hell of an actor.” I hate myself in this moment. Hate. But I’ll hate it more if someone steals her away from me. She’s the only peace in this world. If she wasn’t mine, I wouldn’t want to live anymore. I’ve never coveted anything or anyone a day in my life. I don’t know how else to handle this but to throw them o the scent.

“She’s just your average nerd. Nothing special. But right now, boring is good for my image. Especially after the arrest.”

“Right.”

They all go back to what they were doing, talking about porn and shoving each other around. All I want to do is melt into the ground. How could I lie like that? I don’t deserve Iris.

Make it up to her.

Make her happy. Protect her. In private, make sure she knows how exciting and unique and perfect and incredible she is. Love her.

Like I have a choice?

I’m already obsessed, sick with a ection, riddled with love for this girl. And I know she sees it on my face a few minutes later when I stumble back into the stands and draw her into my arms, moving my mouth in a silent apology above her head.

“Take me to your place, honey.”

Take me out of here. Away from my lies.

And please, please, never let her find out about them.

CHAPTER SIX

Iris

The closer we get to the cove, the more self-conscious I’m becoming.

Maybe the spot is only magical to me.

Maybe this star athlete will take one look at my little crescent of sand with a view of the ocean and shrug. But he’s holding my left hand as he drives, kissing my wrist, my knuckles, my palm, his eyelids heavy with lust—and somehow I know it’s going to be all right. That he’ll enjoy it as much as I do…especially because we’ll be together.

I wet my lips. “Turn here,” I say, gesturing to the winding hidden path leading down to the base of the cli , and Teddy steers his truck in that direction.

Though now, he’s sitting up straighter, his brows knitting together. “Iris, please don’t tell me you’ve been coming here by yourself.”

Who else would I come with? “Why?” “Why?” The truck goes over a bump and he curses, shoving a handful of fingers through his freshly showered hair. “You’ve been walking down this path alone? It’s barely

wide enough for my truck.” He glowers at the road ahead.

“You could have gotten run over.”

“But I didn’t.”

“It’s too secluded out here. Please don’t come here without me again, okay?” He pulls to a stop at the end of the path, the sound of the ocean filling the cab of the truck.

Immediately, he unbuckles my seatbelt and drags me across the console into his lap, his big quarterback hand framing my jaw. “Stop trying to get my girlfriend killed, huh?”

“I can’t promise anything,” I tease him.

“You can’t promise anything? Nothing at all?”

Primly, I shake my head and try to wiggle o his lap.

He keeps me there with a powerful arm around my waist.

“Promise you’ll never let those girls give you another makeover…” His hand slides up beneath my skirt to cup my sex. “…and I’ll eat your pussy again.”

A hot shiver goes through me. “You won’t d-do it again unless I promise?”

After a hesitation, he shakes his head. Once.

“That’s too bad,” I murmur against his lips, moaning lightly. “It felt so good.”

His breath releases in a mighty shudder. “You calling my blu , honey?” He tickles my ribs and I yelp, squirming on his lap. “You know how much I loved having my tongue in that pretty little thing, don’t you?” He laughs, deep and pained. “You’re already using your pussy against me and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He massages me through my panties, visibly trying to get a hold of himself and failing.

“Iris?”

“Uh-huh?” I whimper.

“You’re going to be making a lot of promises before the night is over. To me.” His middle fingers push through the cotton against my entrance and I jolt, thighs clamping together around his wrist. “Enjoy your last few precious

minutes as a virgin. I’m ready to sell my soul to get my cock in here.”

I search for my resolve, my willpower, and remember my plan. “You don’t have to sell your soul to have me.” I work my butt slowly in his lap until his teeth are clenched. “You just have to pass Western Civilization.”

He lurches upright, eyes scrambling over my face.

“You’re not saying…” His breaths are starting to come faster. “Honey, no. Don’t do this to me. The test isn’t for two days.”

Guilt tries to weaken my resolve, but I don’t let it. This has been my plan since this afternoon and I’m doing the best thing for Teddy. “I saw you play today,” I say, unable to keep the emotion out of my voice. “You’re incredible. Even though I know next to nothing about football, I know greatness when I see it. If I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure you play, make sure everyone gets to witness your talent, I would never forgive myself.”

He looks past me, nostrils flaring. He hesitates. “What if the championship doesn’t mean anything without him there? What if he’s the reason I’ve done so well?” Silence passes. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say more. “We built this supposed career together. He was there every step of the way, coaching me, running drills with me and making decisions. And now he’s just gone in a flash and I’m supposed to keep going? I don’t know how to do this without him.”

“Yes, you do.” My heart demands that I cradle his head to my shoulder and tell him everything is going to be okay, but my mind won’t let me. Not for this man. He’s a god and he needs something stronger. I won’t fail him. Not when he’s looking down at me with such naked vulnerability. “He might have given you the tools to be great, but you’ve become an expert at using them. It’s a horrible, horrible

tragedy that he won’t be there to witness your success, Teddy. But you earned it. You. And you’ll honor him every time you step on the field. You’ll be the warrior he knew you were.” I push my fingers through his thick hair. “And who’s to say he’s not somewhere watching?”

A brief, raw sound leaves him and he closes his eyes.

“How does football make you feel?” I ask him.

It takes him a moment to answer. “Capable. Competitive.

Strong. Powerful.”

“That’s how you make it look. Those qualities are not in your head—they’re real. He didn’t hold them for you, he helped you cultivate them. Now, you have them for life.” I turn a little in his lap, stretching up to press our forehead together. “So you’re going to go out and do amazing things with that power and drive, Teddy. As soon as you pass this test.”

“See, this is going to be a problem,” he murmurs, eyes still closed.

“What?”

“This. You keep getting more and more amazing, honey, and I’m…I’m not sure how much more I can handle.” The breath he lets out is choked and shaky. “Feels like my chest is going to burst when I’m around you.”

My heart beats in a blur. “Sounds like you’re trying to get out of studying.”

His laughter booms in the truck’s interior, his eyes opening finally to study me with such warmth, I go slightly limp. Slowly, his smile fades and he turns serious. “I knew the second I saw you that I’d been given a gift. You’re what I need to carry on, Iris. You make everything matter again.”

He renews his grip between my legs. “Two more days until you give this up, huh?”

I nod sympathetically.

“Can we negotiate?” he asks, raising a brow.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Your experience gives you the upper hand.”

He winces at my mention of his past. “I’m ready for that punch in the face, honey. Any time you want to give it. I welcome it.”

“Never.” I kiss him mouth softly. “I could never hurt you.”

He snorts. “Tell that to my cock.” I don’t get a chance to respond to that. “I hereby declare negotiations open. But first, I’ve got an important order of business. Condoms.” His pupils expand like ink blots. “I don’t want to use them. I want…I need you bareback. So tomorrow, I’ll go the doctor and make sure I’m safe for you. Okay, honey?”

My mind is racing. “Should I go to the doctor, too? To get on birth control?”

His jaw flexes. “No.” “No?” He doesn’t have to explain what he means. No, his intentions are right there in his expression. In eyes that are almost predatory. Eager. “I have the means to take care of you, Iris. And a baby. This time next year, I’ll have been drafted. I’ll provide for you. Our family.”

“But I want to get an education.”

His forehead nudges mine. “But I want you pregnant as fuck.”

Is he serious right now? “Well you’ll have to wait.”

He rips my skirt o . Tears the material straight down the middle, his chest rising and falling with dramatic inhales and exhales. His fist twists in the front of my panties and I wait for him to tear those o , too. “You like making me wait, don’t you?”

“No.” I’m like a bunny cornered by a wolf, except I have no fear that he’ll hurt me. None whatsoever. “It’s just part of life. Even for football gods.”

“We’ll discuss it further.” With a visible e ort, he releases my panties, then begins to drag the very tip of his knuckle up and down my inner thighs. “No cherry until I pass the test. All right, Iris. Fine. What can I have while I wait? If you think I can keep my hands o you completely for forty-eight hours, you don’t fully understand how fully fucking insane I am over you.”

I don’t have an answer ready. What can he have while he waits? Something tells me kissing won’t be enough. Unless… can I put my mouth on his private parts, the way he put them on mine?

“That blush is killing me, honey. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…I could kiss you.”

He swallows, zeroing in on my mouth. “Yeah.”

“In places?”

His body stills. “Places.”

“Any place you want?” My face is red. I have no business discussing sexual gratification. I’m way, way out of my depth. “Maybe every time you get a right answer while we’re studying, I’ll kiss you. On the location of your request.”

“Topless.”

“What?”

“You have to kiss me on a location of my request.” That appendage between his legs is so sti now, I’m practically elevating o his lap. “With those ripe, freshman titties out.”

“Won’t that distract you from studying?”

“Maybe. I better take my shirt o , too, just to be safe.”

Whatever is about to come out of my mouth dissolves into gibberish. Teddy with his shirt o . I can only imagine how utterly golden and glorious he is. And he must be reading my mind, because a cocky smile is spreading on his face.

“Someone wants a better look at her boyfriend,” he murmurs, his hips rocking subtly beneath me. Subtly, but still enough to make us both shudder. “Iris, you are the first

and last woman in this world who is allowed to undress me any time she wants. I’m your man first, football player second. That’s how it’s always going to be.”

We swoop toward one another’s mouths, some unspoken push from fate making us collide. He works his tongue into my mouth, stroking me hungrily, the steering wheel digging into my side. Teddy takes my hand and shoves it up beneath his shirt, groaning into my mouth when I begin to trace his muscles, his nipples, the unbelievable brawn of him. And if I keep at this, we’re never going to crack open a textbook. I have a responsibility to Teddy, to the school…and on some level, his father, to make sure he passes that test. I can’t wait.

With a gasp, I break away, evading him when he comes after me for another wild kiss. “I’ll meet you on the beach,” I blurt, throwing myself o his lap and out of the car. I open the rear cab of the truck and retrieve my textbook and notes, heading for my usual spot in the cove. A moment later, Teddy follows behind me with a blanket and a predatory expression on his face that tells me this is going to be a study session like no other.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Teddy

Of all the atrocious shit I’ve done since my father died— vandalizing cars, getting into drunken brawls—the thoughts I’m having right now are by far the worst.

I stand above Iris while she spreads the blanket out on the sand. Her skirt is in tatters in my car, so she’s wearing nothing but panties and a button-down shirt. And not a single one of the buttons are fastened, thanks to some work from my deft fingers back in the truck. So she’s on her knees, arranging the blanket and her tits are dangling there like forbidden fruit. My dick is sti er than sin in my briefs, there is no one around for miles and I can’t help it. I can’t help but think about how easily I could make her mine right now.

I wouldn’t have to use force. She’s addicted to skin on skin contact with me. It makes her hot. A few minutes of making out with our shirts o and she’d be screaming for me to put it in. I’m a bastard. I’m a terrible man for considering it. One flick up my wrist and she’d be on her back. She might try and push me o , briefly, but she’s too

horny to fight me for long. She’d let me kiss her. I’d hump her through those threadbare panties and she’d start to crave the real thing. The way I do.

No, crave isn’t the right word for how badly I want Iris.

I’m being eaten alive.

She stretches out to smooth a corner of the blanket and the shirt rides up to the small of her back, displaying her ass.

Those two tight buns that I’d crawl across a thousand miles of broken glass to sink my teeth into. I’m used to getting what I want, when I want it. And I’ve never wanted anything more than her heart, her body, her commitment to me.

Never. Nothing else even comes close. So the waiting, the torture, is something of an honor. The lust burns, but I fucking love it. It belongs to Iris. It’s for her, so it’s right.

I’m the man who gets to be with her. That’s worth the pain.

But that doesn’t mean I’m a saint.

I have to find a way to get some relief. Something.

Anything. Or I’m worried I won’t make it through the next two days without impressing my will upon her. And that would disrespect her thoughtfulness, her determination to make me a better man and football player. Can’t do that to my future wife. I won’t. I can be the good man she thinks I am.

Can’t I? I swallow the rock in my throat and close my eyes, breathing deep. Don’t think about how tight her pussy is going to be. Yeah right. Every other thought in my head consists of exactly that. How she’ll stretch and clench and whimper and claw.

Relief. I need it. Some measure of it. Somehow.

Already disgusted with myself, I whip o my shirt and toss it into the sand, kneeling down beside Iris on the blanket. She’s in the process of finding the right page of her

notes, so it takes her a moment to look up. But when she does, her double-take almost makes me laugh. Or groan. Or both. Her balance wanes and she starts to pitch sideways, so I reach out and steady her. “You all right, Iris?”

“What, me? Yes.” She’s staring at my abs, so I flex them and listen to her intake of breath. “I just…I just…”

“You just what, honey?”

“Didn’t expect you to be shirtless.”

“Isn’t that what we agreed on?”

“Yes, but during the kissing parts only.”

The kissing parts. Oh my God, she’s so fucking cute. How am I not tackling her onto the blanket right now? “You want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No!” Her cheeks darken. “I mean, n-no.”

I nod with mock seriousness. “You should probably take yours o , too. Just so I don’t feel self-conscious.”

She smirks adorably. “Nice try. You don’t even know the meaning of self-conscious. Not when you’ve got all of this…”

She wiggles her fingers near my chest. “Going on.”

“Is that a compliment, Iris?” I wrap my hands around her waist and drag her toward me. “Ah, honey. You should see me with my pants o .”

I expect a snarky retort, but she chews her lip instead.

“I’m nervous about sex, Teddy.”

My heart drops to my stomach, cold prickles of sweat popping up and down my spine. Oh, this girl of mine. I don’t like her anything but happy. I hate it. Was I really contemplating using her need for skin-on-skin contact against her? Christ, I’m such a bastard. “You don’t have to be nervous, Iris. When we have sex for the first time, I’m going to go nice and slow. I’m going to make sure your pussy is wet enough to fit me. We’re going to find out what you like so I can give it to you every day for the rest of your life.”

Curious blue eyes search mine. “What do you like?”

“I like you, Iris.” Just like every other time I remember my empty, meaningless track record with women before her, a pit forms in the center of my stomach. “Please, I don’t want to think about when you weren’t around.” Nausea roils in my belly and I yank her closer, the magic of her presence keeping the distress at bay. “When we make love, it’s going to be my first time, too. All right?”

“Make love?” she repeats dazedly into my neck.

“That’s what I said.” I can’t stop my hands from creeping up underneath the tail of her button-down shirt, delving down the back of her panties to massage her ass cheeks.

“You think it’s crazy to love you after one day, honey? You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I’m coming dangerously close to revealing what an absolute fanatic I am for her. Maybe I have already, somewhat, but she doesn’t know how deep this obsession runs. I’m not sure I even know yet. I don’t want to show Iris too much intensity and scare her away, though. So I harness every iota of my willpower and ease her out of my embrace. “We better get studying,” I rasp.

“Y-yes,” she responds, shaking herself.

My hands curl into fists to keep from reaching for her as she picks up the textbook and her notes, settling both in her lap. “We should start with Ancient Greece and Hellenistic Civilization…”

For the next hour, Iris tutors me. And I memorize every single word. There is no way to forget a single thing that passes through her beautiful lips. The sun sets around her in pinks and golds as she goes through her notes, so intelligent and studious, my heart is in my throat the whole fucking time. I don’t forget for a single second that we have a deal, either. For every answer I get correct, she’s going to kiss me somewhere on my body. She’s going to do it topless, too.

Jesus, if every man was lucky enough to study this way, there wouldn’t be a single failed test for the rest of time.

Jealousy tightens my gut. She’s never tutoring anyone else but me. I hadn’t even considered the possibility until now, but I don’t like it and it’s not happening.

“Medieval history doesn’t seem to agree with you,” she muses. “You’re scowling.”

“Am I the first guy you’ve tutored?”

She nods. Calmly. As if I didn’t just shout that question at her.

Relief rushes through me so swiftly, I get dizzy. “You can tutor other females if you absolutely have to, but I’m still coming with you.”

“Sure.” She giggles—making a significant dent in my irritation. “That won’t be distracting at all.”

“Distracting how?”

“The entire time I’ve been going through my notes, you’ve looked like…I don’t know. Like you’re ready to pounce on me.”

“I am.”

She tilts her head, exasperated, and it’s almost as hot as the eye rolling. “Have you paid attention to a single word I’d said?”

“Every fucking line, honey. Quiz me.” I beat my chest with a fist. “Let’s do this.”

“Very well, we’ll start easy. Who fought in the Peloponnesian War?” “Athens and Sparta. Kiss my neck.” I crook my finger, beckoning her closer. There has been way too much space between us for way too long. “Might as well stay right here in front of me, because I’m getting them all right.”

“You’re so confident.”

“Your mouth is on the line, Iris.” Slowly, I tip my head to the right, watching her gaze slip to my neck and heat. “Kiss it. Take your time. We never decided the kisses had to be quick.”

She sets down her book, notes, rising up on her knees and coming toward me, the breeze almost blowing open her unbuttoned shirt. Just enough to see the center curves of her tits. My cock has been solid as fuck this entire time, but my balls start to hum and clench now, needing to spend.

Wanting to do it inside of her. All over her. For her.

When Iris reaches me, she chews her bottom lip a moment, then slowly peels o the dress shirt, putting her in a thin pair of panties and nothing else. And my sweet lord, those tits. Perky fucking peaches. I want to worship and defile them. I want to put them in expensive bras encrusted with diamonds—and just watch me, I will. I’ll spoil her so rotten, every day will seem like Christmas for her.

Her delicate hands perch on my shoulders and I make a hoarse, involuntary sound, my dick stretching in my briefs. I hold my breath as she leans in and presses her lips to the area beneath my ear. Kissing me. Inhaling me shyly. Losing her breath against me when her hips meet mine. She feels what she’s done. What she’ll always do to this cock.

“Next question, Iris,” I grit out, my hands shaking with the need to crush her hips closer, where I can grind out some relief. “I need to earn another kiss.”

“Right.” She wets her lips, still so close to my neck, it’s the best kind of torture. “Which battle ended the war and how?”

“The Battle of Aegospotami. It ended in the destruction of Athens’ fleet of ships.”

I’m not going to lie, when she cuts me an impressed glance, I almost ejaculate then and there. Who knew I would like to please my tutor so much? “You were listening,” she says.

“I’ll never forget a single word you say.” My fingers climb the nape of her neck, sliding into her hair to cradle the back of her head. “Kiss my mouth now.”

There’s an eager quality to her expression now. She’s a horny girl. Fuck the football field, the best moments of my life are going to be spent making her come. I live for her. It’s killing me not to pin her down on the blanket right now and thrust home. The pain in my stomach is nearly unbearable, but the way her nipples drag up my pecs? The way her mouth meets mine from below in a feather-light kiss, slow, slow, slow, makes the torture worth it. She’s so motherfucking sweet.

“You kiss your man with tongue, Iris.”

She makes a halting sound. “You’re too tall. I can’t reach.”

That’s when I realize she’s straining in her kneeling position, head tipped all the way back, hands using my shoulders for leverage, just so our lips can meet. “Aw, you’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you?” I tickle her ribs, swoop down for a hard kiss, then drop down onto the blanket, rolling over onto my back, stacking my hands behind my head. “Does this make is easier for you?”

Every single minute I’ve spent running and lifting weights has been worth it, because she squirms, breathing hard, trying to look out at the ocean, instead of my torso, and failing. Her eyes return to me every single time. “Um…” “Come give me my kiss with tongue,” I say, sitting up only long enough to pull her down on top of me, arranging her thighs on either side of my hips and groaning, hands twisting in the blanket at the firm, warm press of her pussy.

“Didn’t I earn it, Iris?”

“Yes,” she whispers, leaning down, her blonde hair falling all around her.

And then fuck—finally—I’ve got her in nothing but panties on top of me, kissing my mouth, the innocent delves of her tongue making me crazy. Pressing my luck, I trail my fingertips down her bare back and sink both greedy hands

into her panties, getting a tight hold on that ass, making her breath stutter against mine.

“Teddy…”

Before she can scold me for flouting the rules, I say, “Next question.”

I can tell by looking into her glassy eyes that she can’t remember a damn thing we were supposed to be studying.

Her distraction might have something to do with my middle finger parting the crease of her ass, sneaking a few pets of her virgin asshole.

Her breath pu s out against my lips. “Who…who was Charlemagne?”

“Charlemagne.” My own thoughts are hazy of anything except for Iris, but I push through the dirty lust in order to land my next kiss. “Uh…also known as Charles the Great.

King of Franks. United Western and Central Europe.”

“Yes,” she exhales, face full of pleasure.

A groan slips out between my teeth. “Goddamn, I like you being proud of me.”

“I am,” she whispers, working her hips in a figure eight.

“So proud.”

“Iris,” I pant. “Honey, don’t stop.”

“Where do you want your next kiss?”

I’m tempted to ask for another one on my mouth because I’m addicted to the taste of her. Her breath, her texture, her everything. But my balls have never been this heavy, this miserable. They’re weighed down with seed for Iris. I’m going to die if I don’t let o some of this pressure.

Reluctantly, I slide my hands out of her panties and away from that hot, little pucker. And I reach between us to unfasten my jeans. “Ask me another question, honey. I should have to answer more than one right to get a kiss on my cock.”

“On…o-on your…”

My zipper comes down and I shout behind my teeth, the loss of that denim prison allowing it to swell thicker. “Give me the question, honey.”

Still, she says nothing—and I’m an idiot, because I realize she’s looking down between our bodies and seeing my dick for the first time. I barely catch her in time when she tries to scramble o of me. But my reflexes have been honed from a million hours of football, so I roll with her, flipping our positions and pinning her beneath me.

“Don’t be scared of it,” I say soothingly against her mouth. At least I try to be soothing. My reassurance sounds more like a growl, because yeah, all that’s keeping me from her cherry now is a pair of panties that I could rip o with zero e ort. And she’s so smooth and sweet and fragrant beneath me. Wide eyed, virginal, and confused about why she’s in heat and nervous at the same time. “I’m not making you take it tonight. It’s just a kiss.”

“Is it supposed to be that big?” she whispers.

“No, your man is just blessed.” I drop my mouth to her ear, kissing it, tracing the smooth shell with the tip of my tongue. “Trust me when I say that little cunt is going to welcome me like warm fucking butter. I won’t let it hurt, Iris. I won’t. You trust me?”

She nods. No hesitation.

My breath escapes in a rush, my chest feeling like it’s stuck in a trash compactor. “You’ve just given me the greatest honor of my life, you know that?”

“I trust you,” she says again. Slowly, our foreheads touching, I let my hips drop into the cradle of hers, and this time, her eyes spark with wonder. Excitement. “I-I can’t think of a question…”

I roll my hips, dragging my cock along the seam of her thinly covered pussy. “Why? Am I distracting you?”

She giggles. Sighs. Moans. “Um…th-the capital of the Byzantine Empire.”

My dick throbs harder, as if sensing victory.

“Constantinople.”

Her smile flutters. She’s dazed. Gasping. “You’re definitely going to pass the test.”

“All I care about is passing yours.”

“What would that entail?”

“Hearing you say you’ll never leave me. Hearing you say I’m the first and last man who ever kisses this mouth.” I capture her lips in a hard kiss, then slide down, licking a path all the way to her belly button. Then I start dropping bites on her hips, her thighs, her belly, and she sucks in a breath over every single one, squirming on the blanket.

“Hearing you say I’m the only one who’ll ever make you come. The only man you’ll ever open your legs for. Say it or I swear to God, I don’t know what I’ll do. Kill every man on this planet until I’m the only one left and you don’t have a choice. I would. Without you, I’d go insane enough to do it.”

“You’re the only one,” she whimpers, because I’m growling this vow against her cunt. My vision is sparking, throat on fire, but her words calm me slightly. And then a little more when she says, “You’re the only man I see.” Her fingers slide into my hair, nails scraping my scalp to soothe me. “Don’t you want your kiss?”

“God, yes,” I say hoarsely, my teeth still bared against her mound. My body is screaming at me to fuck her. “I’m just worried I’ll take it a little too hard if I do it now. I’m not good…once I let the jealousy in, I go fucking nuts, honey.

You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she agrees, biting her lip. Her cheeks are rosy. Jesus, she’s so sexy and guileless. “I want to kiss it, Teddy.” Her eyelids grow heavy, like she’s fantasizing. “I want to know what it tastes like.”

Yeah. There’s simply no holding back after that. I’ve never needed an orgasm so bad in my life and I’m kicking o my jeans and briefs before I realize what I’m doing. And then I’m straddling her thighs, walking forward on my knees with my cock in my hand, jacking it roughly, letting her watch, letting her see what happens to me, thanks to her utter perfection. She lies there like a virgin sacrifice, her mouth open in awe, eyes tracing the lines of my shaft. She’s breathing hard, those plump little tits rising and falling fast —and when she licks her lips, there’s no more waiting.

I’m looming right above her neck, still kneeling, but I fall forward over her face now, catching myself with my left hand on the blanket above her head. I’m straddling her beautiful face and it’s almost too much to bear without immediately beginning to spurt. Forcing my balls to hold on to their contents, I dip my hips, guiding my cock to her mouth, biting my lip so hard, I can taste blood. “Kiss it, honey. My perfect angel. Give me a kiss. Just a little one’s all I need.”

And that’s not a lie.

When she presses her gorgeous lips to the crown of my dick, I let out a guttural groan and nearly spend myself all over her face. But I’m a greedy man when it comes to Iris, aren’t I? I’m determined to claim all of her first times as fast as possible. To claim her. Totally and completely. So I can’t help nudging her lips again, my breath racing in and out of my lungs. “Kiss it how you kiss my mouth. Use that pretty little tongue.”

Eager eyes on me, she opens her lips like the pearly gates and welcomes me inside. A sheen glazes the blue of her irises almost immediately, because yeah, I’m a well-endowed motherfucker and she’s small everywhere, all the way to her throat.

“French kiss it,” I pant, sweat popping up on my forehead, my chest. “Pretend it’s my tongue. What would you do with it?’

God help me, my girl does what she’s told.

She wraps her tongue around the top third of my cock and treats it like my tongue, stroking it in a kissing rhythm, working me in and out of her mouth. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d say it’s the hottest thing I’ll ever see in my life, but we have decades together and I can’t say for sure, but Jesus, Jesus Christ, she’s taking more of me now. She’s sucking me down to her throat like it’s a sweltering hot day and my dick is full of lemonade. And then her hand cups my balls, reverently, and a choked sound leaves me, echoing in the cove. Her thumb traces the seam of my balls and then— “Fuck!”

My balls are in her mouth. In her curious virgin mouth.

And my fucking legs are shaking.

I watch down the length of my body as she goes to town on my sac, sucking the entirety of them past her lips, moaning brokenly, her hand working my cock in fast strokes. My God. Oh my God. She has no business being so goddamn good at this.

“I’m going to come,” I growl, barely able to hold myself up. “I’ve got maybe ten seconds in me. You’re so good, angel. Honey. You’re so fucking good.”

That’s when she sinks her fingernails into my ass, pulling me closer—and the tip of my dick smashes against the back of her throat. My vision goes black and I roar, fucking her mouth for everything I’m worth. Humping like a dog.

There’s no stopping me. I’m a wild animal. There’s a lightning flash of worry that I’m hurting her, ruining everything, but she’s clutching my ass cheeks like life preservers, grinding me against her face.

“I’m going to make you my wife,” I slur, grunting, hips moving like pistons. “Going to put a diamond on that fucking finger. You’re mine. This mouth is MINE.” Relief doesn’t arrive like it normally does, in a slow wave.

No, it’s a monsoon. I shout her name at the top of my lungs, my muscles seizing up, balls twisting in my stomach and it goes on forever, forever, just blast after blast of fiery liquid pounding up my cock and spilling into her mouth, down her sweet, giving throat and she takes as much as she can. She takes so much, but when she makes the slightest choking sound, alarm bells go o in my head—my girl trusts me and I won’t violate that. I’ve already gone way too far too fast.

“Iris,” I say raggedly, the last ounce of semen draining from my tip. Shuddering, covered in sweat, I pull her into my arms, rocking back and forth like a madman. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was so fucking rough. I didn’t—” “I loved it,” she breathes, her own breath labored. Eyes bright. “I can’t b-believe I can…”

I tilt her chin up, on the edge of my seat. “What, honey?”

“I can’t believe I have to power to d-do that to you.”

Am I dreaming? Or is she really this much of a miracle?

Desperate to give her the same pleasure she just gifted me with, my index and middle finger find the front of her panties, rubbing her clit through the now drenched material of her panties. “That’s right, honey. You rule me. And now you know. You rule my body and I rule this hot young cunt.

Come for your man now. I know you need it.”

She nods, glazed eyes finding mine. She sobs, chest heaving faster and faster until she begins to writhe and strain in my arms. Knowing the skin-on-skin contact will push her over the edge, I sink my fingers into her panties, between the folds of her sex and rub faster, faster, propelling her into a moaning and twisting fit, her eyes never leaving mine.

“I love you,” I say through my teeth when she climaxes, her moisture coating my fingers and spilling all the way down to my wrist, her lavender scent wafting up and making me salivate. “I love you, Iris.”

“I love you, too,” she gasps back, letting me pull her down onto the blanket and hold her like the world is ending.

It’s not, though, I tell myself. It’s only starting. I have her now.

The sweet way she curls into me and dozes o is almost enough to make me forget what I said back at the field to my teammates. How I lied. How I put that terrible filth into the universe. But I’ll protect her from finding out how far I’ll go to keep other men away.

I won’t let it touch her.

I’d quite literally kill myself if I hurt Iris.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Iris

The next day and a half are blissfully…intense.

After our study session at the cove, Teddy drove us home.

We ordered takeout from the Chinese restaurant down the street from the apartment and we studied some more. This time, there was no kissing agreement, as much as I would have loved one, because I meant what I said. He’s going to pass the test and play in the championship. The more that becomes a reality, the more I can see he yearns to be out on the field. He was born for it.

Several times throughout that night together, we woke up straining against each other, his fingers in my panties, his hips restless against my thigh. In his half-asleep delirium, he proposed to me no less than a dozen times, his tongue moving feverishly in my mouth, on my breasts. It’s a miracle I made it through the night with my virginity intact, but I did. And the next night, too, though my boyfriend has started prowling around me like a wolf stalking a lamb.

He backs me into corners and fists my clothing. He sweats and curses.

He gets down on his knees and licks at my backside through my clothes.

He holds me down and asks me questions about my life before him. What I like to eat and drink. My favorite movies and music and holidays. He interrogates me about my dreams, my hopes, my secrets. Where and how my body reacts when he kisses me certain ways.

He peels o his shirt at the oddest times to tempt me.

I stand firm, though, repeatedly pointing at the textbook and our new, joint notes.

Teddy also makes good on his vow to douse me in his cologne and make me walk around campus wearing his jacket. Truth be told, I hated it at first. Everyone stared and whispered as I passed, speculating about me, our relationship. But after a while, I started to feel untouchable.

As if I was walking around in a bubble of his protection. I loved having the smell of him available to me all day, when he couldn’t be right next to me.

I’m in love.

I’m deeply, wildly in love with this man.

He’s still in pain over the loss of his father and he lets me soothe him when I see he’s down. He lets me take his head into my chest and stroke his hair, his huge, athlete’s body curling around mine, pulling me tight and choking the air out of me, my name a whisper on his lips. And in turn, he asks me a million questions about my time in the monastery, growing visibly troubled when I recount the lonely years I spent within those walls. I can see that he would go back in time and rescue me, if possible, and somehow that helps.

Makes me feel so much less alone now that it makes up for lost time. Or it will, as our years pass together.

On the morning of the test, I wake up alone in bed. I walk out of the bedroom to find Teddy going over the study outline, his mouth moving as he reads. When he glances up

and sees me in the doorway wearing one of his old game jerseys, his eyes darken to black and he wets his lips. “You and me go straight to bed after the test, Iris. Don’t even think about disappearing somewhere.” He quickly swipes perspiration from his brow. “I’m going to have my reward.

I’m going to have it all day and night.”

Heat trickles down to my womanhood, muscles seizing. “I know.”

His gaze drops to the juncture of my thighs. “You want it, too. Climbing all over me in your sleep. I came this close, honey, to railing you up and down the bed last night.”

He’s right. In my sleep, I slung a leg across his hips and rode him through his briefs, my sex aching, swollen, in need of the relief we’ve been denying ourselves since the cove.

“But you wanted to do the right thing, so you stopped.”

“Yeah. It turns out…I fucking live to make you proud of me. So…” He blows out a shaky breath, then puts his attention back on the textbook. “So I’m not just going to pass, I’m going to get an A. And then I’m going to win the championship, just so I can lay it all at your feet.”

“It’s not just for me. He’d be proud, too. And you can be proud of yourself.”

He drops the pencil in his hand and stands, coming toward me, intense as ever. “I know. And I am. But I never would have considered any of that if you didn’t come into my life, so I’m doing it all for you, Iris.” He cradles my face in his hands, the gentle touch at odds with his determination.

“Your man is going to give you the world.”

Our mouths gravitate toward each other and we both grow winded on the spot, our bodies pressing, grinding briefly, before we both pull away. Aching.

“Goddammit,” he growls through his teeth, slamming a fist into the wall. “I…angel, it’s going to be hard for me to be

gentle today. I know I said I would, but fuck. Fuck. These last two days have me at the end of my rope.”

“However it is between us, it’ll be right,” I say, brushing our fingers together. “You’ll make it right.”

Teddy nods, swallowing, seemingly fascinated by the way our fingers touch. “Get ready to go, huh? I want to be there early. I want you to wait outside the test room, where I can see you.” He reaches down and grips his manhood through his jeans. “And honey, I want you thinking about this fat dick, so you’re nice and wet when they’re done grading the test. No more foreplay. We’ve been doing that for days.” Hot eyes tick up to mine. “Outside the classroom, wet and waiting. Understood?”

“Yes, Teddy,” I whisper, because whether it’s right or wrong, I love the way he commands me. It’s not done in the name of keeping me under his thumb. No. He commands me in ways that keep me close, keep me safe, because I think if he didn’t have those two assurances, he might lose his mind.

And I’m getting to his level, too. I’ve become his identical counterpart, yearning for him when he’s at practice or even just in the shower. We reunite like long-lost lovers afterward, hands stroking and getting reacquainted, syncing our breaths once again. I miss him when he’s standing right in front of me.

He advances on me slowly now, turning me toward the bedroom, lifting up the borrowed jersey and slapping my bottom. “Wear something I can take o easily.”

I’m not the only one waiting outside of the test room.

Half the school is here in red and gold, our o cial colors.

Some people even have their faces painted or hold signs with encouraging messages for Teddy. When it was just the two of

us studying, the pressure to help him pass was more than enough, but this? So much is on the line. If Teddy doesn’t pass, he won’t play in the championship and we will lose. It’s a given.

No. He’s going to pass. Not only that, he’s going to get an A. He worked so hard and he’s a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for.

Remembering his directions to me before we left the apartment, I close my eyes and recall him beneath me last night, the way he rode me on his bucking hips, sweat dripping o his abs, jaw clenched tight, shuddering, trying not to come. How he groaned my name so brokenly. How he threw himself o the bed and took a cold shower while I lay panting, my underwear clinging to my skin. It’s almost over.

The waiting is almost— My thoughts burst like a bubble when I hear a door creak.

Slam.

My eyes fly open. The mass of students is deadly silent as Teddy walks out, backpack slung over one shoulder, a backwards hat on his head. He’s holding a paper in his hand, but I can’t read his expression. Oh God, he’s not smiling.

What happened?

He’s focused on me, jaw set.

He stops in the center of the courtyard, holds up the paper. “I got an A.” Utter pandemonium breaks out. Deafening cheers, screams of joy. Male students chest bump as they watch their hero stride toward me. Somewhere in the distance, a marching band begins to play, but my heartbeat drowns out the noise almost immediately. Because my boyfriend very clearly does not care about the fanfare whatsoever. And if I had any doubt about that fact, he rids me of it a second later

when I’m thrown over his shoulder and carried out of the courtyard.

My smile is so huge that it actually hurts my face.

“Teddy.” My laughter is watery—and delivered to the muscular swells of his butt. “You did it. You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

He keeps walking. Faster. He doesn’t slow down until we’re at the parking lot.

The next time I glimpse his face, there is a fine layer of sweat on his forehead. His breath rattles in and out, the Western Civilization test crushed and forgotten in his hand.

He wrenches open the passenger side of his truck and tosses the stapled papers into the footwell, then sets me down on the seat, buckling me in with shaking hands. It’s impossible to miss the growing ridge behind the fly of his jeans. Or the way his restless touch scrubs up and down my thighs, higher to my breasts, which he squeezes once with a strangled groan.

“T-Teddy? Are you okay?”

No answer.

He slams the door closed and circles around the front bumper, never taking his eyes o me. They pin me through the windshield like a hundred-mile-per-hour wind. My legs scoot together on the seat in an attempt to suppress the spreading ache there. I’m growing hotter by the second, muscles tightening like the cogs of an engine. And the wetness. It comes on so fast, it’s almost embarrassing. By the time he climbs into the driver’s side of the truck and starts the engine with a violent twist of his wrist, my nails are clawing the seat on either side of my hips.

“Don’t say another word. Your innocent voice is too much when I’m this hard,” he rasps, gunning the truck in reverse and peeling out of the parking lot. We travel down the street leading o campus and once we’re past the gates, he opts for

the backroad, instead of the interstate. “Get those little fucking panties o .” His fingers flex around the steering wheel, green scenery flying by on either side of us. “I’m not going to make it home.”

“We’re only five minutes away,” I whisper.

“Too long,” he clips. “Pull them down or I’ll tear them straight o , so help me God.” My underwear is in limited supply and I can’t a ord to lose a pair, plus I want to follow his orders. Some undiscovered part of me is thrilled by the fact that I’ve pushed him to the edge, even if his intensity concerns me.

Makes me fearful that he won’t go slow like he promised. I barely recognize him right now, he’s in such…heat.

Biting my lip, I reach up beneath my skirt and work the panties down my thighs, his groan rending the air in two when I lift up my hips. “Jesus Christ,” he growls, swerving o the road into the forest. We go bouncing across uneven terrain before he skids to a stop in a shaded clearing, the sound of wind and the nearby ocean filling the cab of the truck, along with his harsh panting. I twist the panties in my hands nervously, but he takes them from me, shoving them up against his nose, inhaling, groaning. Keeping them pressed there as he exits the truck and prowls around the rear bumper.

I squeak when my door is yanked open. There he stands, eyes on fire, muscles seething. I’m freed of the seatbelt and pulled into his arms, carried around to the rear bed of the truck. He settles me on the lowered grate, returning briefly for the blanket in the rear cab, spreading it out behind me in the truck bed.

“Teddy?”

He doesn’t answer me.

No, he drags me closer to the blanket and pushes me down, so I’m looking up at his strained features and the

towering trees above us. “Don’t,” he pleads, stripping o his shirt and starting on the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re nervous. Or scared of me. Please…I’ll go back to being me as soon as I can get this one fuck, honey. I’m dying. I need to bang you—hard and rough and mean. I thought I could go easy, but I was wrong. I was wrong.” He shoves the jeans down to his knees and fists his enormous erection, coming down over me, baring his teeth against my mouth. “I hurt everywhere. Your pussy is the only thing that can make it stop. It’s going to take a pounding, Iris. There’s nothing I can do to stop myself at this point. You’ve driven me insane. With the honey and cream smell of it and that tight fucking grind you give me through our clothes, right to the edge. Stopping me right at the fucking edge. Not this time.

Open your legs.”

I’ll go back to being me as soon as…

He’s right. He’s not himself right now. He’s been reduced to his basest instincts and I had a major role in making him this way. Pushing him to this animal state. So I have to snap him out of it before he does something he regrets. Like hurt me. “You can be sweet,” I breathe, sliding my fingers into his hair. “You love me, Teddy. You don’t want to hurt me or make me cry. You can be gentle for my first time.” I lap at his upper lip with my tongue. “My hero can do anything.”

His intensity falters slightly, a crease appearing between his brows. Humanity warms the light brown of his eyes. He does not like the possibility of me shedding tears. Not at all.

But he shakes his head, speaking in a low rumble. “I’m not your hero right now,” he grates, pinning my thighs open with his hips, slapping his steely erection down against my slit. One, two, three. “Later, I will be. Right now, I’m the guy

who is going to fuck you rotten in the woods where no one can hear you wail.”

Part of me is shockingly turned on by that. By the imagery of his powerful body bucking above my smaller one, the truck pitching back and forth, his grunts mingling with my cries. I want to know him at that most basic level. Man reduced to beast. I want to know him in every single way, even that one, but I know he’ll hate himself for being too rough with me and I want to save him that guilt. “What if I can’t see you as my hero after you hurt me?”

He freezes, fear cutting across his expression. “I’m not me right now, honey,” he whispers. “It’s not just that I’m so hot to fuck you I can barely think straight, it’s…it’s the need to stake my claim. When I walked out of class and you were standing there…”

“What?”

“Men were standing too close. On all sides.” His nostrils flare, murder blackening his eyes. “And I hadn’t put my come inside you yet. They know. They sense it and they wonder if there’s still time to claim you, before I can do it.

Next time you’re in a public, every time you’re in public from now on, you’re going to carry my scent. My sperm.

Everywhere. All the time.”

“I want that, too.” I go up on my elbows, kissing his mouth. “Come back to me, Teddy.”

It takes a few moments of kissing his lips before they begin to soften. And then he makes a broken sound, dropping his weight fully on top of me, kissing me frantically. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You just drive me fucking insane, Iris. I’m obsessed with you. I’m out of my head.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimper as his teeth latch onto my ear, scrape down my neck. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

After feasting beneath my ear, mashing his lips and teeth into the curve of my throat, neck, shoulder, he moves lower.

Kissing down my body until he reaches my skirt, working it up to my hips. His hot breaths bathe my inner thighs and I try not to squirm self-consciously as he looks his fill, nibbling at sensitive flesh, before parting my sex with a groaning lick.

“Oh. Honey. So goddamn wet for your man.” He presses his face to me, rubbing it side to side. Reveling. “Good girl.”

His voice is still incredibly strained, his fingers bruising on my thighs where he holds them open, but he’s working to regain control. The e ort is causing him to shake, but he’s trying. And oh…oh God, he’s found that little nub with his tongue and he’s teasing it with bats and kisses, laboring to breathe when he finally gives it a sti lick that makes me cry out, my back arching in the bed of the truck.

“I’m going to finger you, honey. To let your body know I’m coming.” We lock eyes over the writhing length of my body, his tongue flickering against my swelling bud and he slowly, slowly, pushes his middle finger inside of me.

Starbursts pop behind my eyes.

Something deep, deep in my belly wakes up and rejoices, clenches, asks for more.

I don’t know what’s happening. I expected pain the first time something entered me, especially Teddy’s long, thick finger, but I’m not getting any. “M-more…” I croak.

His eyes darken, cheekbones awash with color, sweat making his dark hair stick to his forehead. With a rigid jaw, he adds his index finger, pressing both of them deep, but not too deep. It’s obvious he’s holding back, not wanting to go past the barrier of my virginity. I want him to, though. No, that’s an understatement. Whereas a moment ago, I was scared of him hurting me, I’m suddenly desperate for him to fill me with his shaft. Completely. His fingers feel divine.

They spread warmth wherever they touch. My hips roll encouragingly and I babble incoherently, trying to express

what’s happening inside of me, but I don’t know if I could even if I were able.

I’m a virgin. But my body isn’t reacting like one.

It’s eager. I’m so eager for contact with his naked body, I’m stammering his name, clawing at his shoulders. I want him unleashed on me. What was I thinking slowing him down?

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He prowls up my body, concern deeply etched into his forehead. “Were my fingers too much?”

I shake my head frantically. “N-not enough.”

His beautiful head tilts, his frown deepening. “Help me understand.”

“I don’t know if I can. I just…I thought you being inside of me w-would hurt or feel weird, but I like it. I love it.”

Understanding dawns and his bare, sweaty chest starts to shudder up and down. “My girlfriend is the holy grail of virgins. Is that it?” Without breaking eye contact, he wrenches up my shirt and tugs down the cups of my bra, exposing my hard nipples. And I whimper, arching my back, showing myself to him. Begging. “You were scared. But now that you’ve gotten a little preview, you want to get banged like a barn door in a storm, is that right?”

“I didn’t realize…” I whisper. “I didn’t know it would feel l-like…”

“Like what?”

“Like I’ve just been waiting for you to…”

“Track you down and sink something good and deep between these pretty thighs?” He guides his arousal to my entrance and eases in the tip, gritting his teeth. “Be sure, Iris. Once that cherry juice is dripping o my balls, not even that sweet little voice calling me your hero is going to slow me down.”

Tremors move through me, my femininity squeezing and weeping, demanding to be filled. I can’t believe what’s happening. Is it supposed to be like this? Have I been secretly depraved this whole time and never realized? “Please,” I sob, the sluice of wetness through my folds unbearable without him. Without him taking me, experiencing me.

“Hard, Teddy. Fast.”

“Son of a bitch,” he growls, positioning himself, then bracing his right hand on the cab of the truck over my head.

With a strangled roar, he punches his hips forward—and unleashes total euphoria inside of me. There’s a gentle tear, one that we both acknowledge with a hard kiss, twin expressions of lust and wonder, but there’s no pain. Instead, there’s a voraciousness. His full, pulsing member inside of my body is like a drug, a brand, an on switch. I’m someone else now. Someone who has been living with hidden needs without realizing it.

“Teddy,” I moan, lifting my hips beneath him, digging my heels into his buttocks.

Scraping at his broad, strong back with my nails.

“Can’t believe this,” he says raggedly, face contorted in pain. “You’re so fucking tiny and tight. Felt that cherry pop, baby. You shouldn’t want it dirty.”

“Yes. Yes, I want it dirty,” I gasp. “Dirty. Please.”

My plea unhinges him.

With a strained curse, he begins to rut me. Hard. My mouth falls open, sensations hitting me like blasts from a cannon. There’s an awestruck whisper in the back of my head, telling me I was born to be intimate with this man. I wasn’t experienced enough to realize it until now—but he knew, didn’t he? That’s why he’s been so sick with lust. If I’d known how vital it is for us to be joined in this way, so completely, I would never have resisted. “Oh my goodness,” I whimper, sinking my teeth into his shoulder, squeezing my

sex around him, glorying in the way he jerks and pants and bears down harder. The truck creaks and groans beneath us, mingling with the sounds of wet, pounding skin and intakes of breath. Growls and grunts and cries.

“You fucking goddess.” His voice scrapes in my ear.

“Smooth little body. Sopping wet cunt. You’re working me so good. In and out of that tight-ass fuck hole, but you still feel innocent as a motherfucker. How the hell do you do it?” he grinds out.

As if I could respond.

I’ve entered a di erent plane of existence. One where only sensation matters. Stimulation of my clit and his shaft and bonding with him and sucking his tongue and lifting, lifting, lifting my backside, getting pinned down harder for my e orts and growled at, his hand a manacle around my throat, holding me so tight that I become a cherished possession. The gateway to his release, his pleasure, it’s all I want to be for the rest of my life.

“Ohhh honey, you’re making me come.” The slaps of his hips grow louder, his testicles pressing tight to my bottom with every deep thrust. There’s a dizzying dance taking place inside of me, as if all of my hormones are assembling in a circle and joining hands, gathering closer and closer and closer. And the harder he rides me, the faster his pace, the faster I speed toward Armageddon. “Bought condoms because I wanted to respect your wishes, but I threw them out this morning, Iris. It was never going to happen.” His grips my throat tighter. “You were born to take my fucking sperm.”

“Yes,” I gasp, sparks beginning to dance in my vision.

“Fill me up. I can’t live without it. Without you. Please.”

He releases a shout into my neck, pounding me so hard now, my teeth clack together, my legs beginning to tremble wildly with the magnitude of what he’s drawing out of me.

“You finally get it, don’t you?” His voice is deep and resonant in my ear. “We’ll live in this world, but we’ve got our own world, too, don’t we? Just you and me and this obsession. No one can touch it. We don’t separate for any reason. We don’t let anything come between us, especially some fucking latex. You want your man’s sperm, baby, honey, clench that pussy one more time and I’ll flood that little thing. And you will come with me.”

“Uh-huh,” I manage, nodding unevenly, the gathering in my tummy cinching closer, closer. Oh God, I can’t stop the landslide. Not even if I wanted to. I’m trapped underneath his huge, quarterback body, double teamed by his strength and the wild, unexpected response of my body. As soon as the rocks start to topple from the cli , my climax barreling into me, I seize my intimate muscles around him, so tightly that he can’t even withdraw for a final thrust. No, his eyes simply go blind, his thick frame juddering on top of me, scalding hot liquid bathing me from the inside, ripple after ripple passing through me, through him, the mutual pleasure so intense I can’t stop my limbs from flailing, straining, batting at Teddy’s shaking back.

“I love you. I love you.” He chants these words into my neck, his open mouth raking up and down the side of my neck, into my hair. “My angel. Mine forever. My perfect Iris.

I fucking love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I breathe, searching for his mouth blindly, connecting, our mouths moving in frantic reverence until sleep claims me and I fade into the black knowing Teddy will take care of me. That I’m safe and loved and nothing can ever invade our two-person world.

Nothing.

CHAPTER NINE

Teddy

She walks out of the bedroom and I see her immediately, because I’ve been staring at the door for twenty minutes, waiting. Waiting for her. Trying to breathe without her long enough to let her take a shower and put on some clothes. It’s not going well. Every time she’s not in my arms, every second I’m not consumed by her, all I can think of is losing her. How the lies I told to my teammates are going to come back to haunt me. It’s only a matter of time. After the championship tonight, I have to come clean. I have to clarify to each and every one of them that I’m not dating Iris for my image. I’m with her because she’s my fucking life.

Now that I’ve spent the last two days giving her my cock, the sharpest parts of my jealousy are gone. She’s mine. She’s mine. I’ve made her say it a thousand times. And I know I’ll spend the rest of my life strangled by possessiveness for her, but right now, in this moment, that ugly emotion is at rest.

There’s only the love and peace she blesses me with.

The lust is there, too.

Oh Christ, is it ever there.

Never goes away.

I’ve banged her in the shower, on the couch, on the floor, the kitchen table, in my bed and several times against the wall, but every time I come inside of her, I only get hungrier.

I want her again, again, again. Even now, when we have five minutes before we have to leave for the field, I’m considering bending her over in that little jean skirt, tights and sandals. She’ll welcome my cock eagerly, too, won’t she?

She’s so goddamn horny, I find myself mounted in the middle of the night, her pussy dragging up and down my swelling cock, those little mewling noises wrecking my chest, hardening me to steel.

I push o the couch and advance on her, watching the black of her pupils bleed wide. “You wearing a skirt to my game?”

She nods. “And stockings.”

“Stockings,” I repeat, gripping my cock through my mesh shorts. “Those don’t go all the way up to your pussy?”

“No.” Her knees inch together. “Almost.”

I back her into the wall, my composure already waning.

“What does ‘almost’ mean?”

Her answer doesn’t come quickly enough, so I jerk the skirt up to her hips and…Jesus. My cock is at full attention now. She’s got on these stockings that stop two inches from her panties, leaving smooth sections of her thighs naked, save the bite marks I left behind.

I drag a hand down my open mouth. “You think I’ll be able to concentrate on the field with you in the stands dressed like a dick tease?”

“I’m wearing the stockings to stay warm.”

“Go put on pants, please.”

“You ripped the buttons o my last pair,” she whispers.

Fuck. She has me there. I have got to take her shopping soon. I keep meaning to bring her to the mall to buy new

underwear, new clothes and shoes, but despite my best intentions, she keeps ending up on her back beneath me, sweat coating our bodies.

Before I can apologize to her for being a bad boyfriend, there is a knock at my door.

It’s the o ensive coordinator, here to drive me to the game. He’s been doing it since my freshman year, unwilling to leave my arrival at the field to chance. There are voices in the hall. A whole team of them. A trainer to make sure I’m at full strength, probably preparing to give me a B12 shot. The quarterback coach. School administrators who want the bragging rights of saying they drove with me to the game.

And yeah, I want to win tonight.

I love winning. I love the game.

But there is nothing, nothing more important than the girl in front of me.

Turning my head, I shout over my shoulder at the door.

“Coach.”

“Yeah, Teddy. Got the van downstairs, ready to go. You ready to kick some ass tonight, man?”

“Damn right.” I pin my girlfriend with a look. “But I’m going to need a security team to stay with Iris while I’m playing.”

There’s a drawn-out silence. “A whole team?”

“That’s what I said.” My pulse is starting to pound, my balls tightening like knots in my shorts. Jesus. No way I can play tonight without fucking her one more time. At least. “I won’t be able to concentrate until she’s guarded. Heavily. If she’s not safe, I don’t play.”

Pressing my forehead against hers, she whimpers, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking and I’m proven correct when she trails a finger down my cock through the thin material of my shorts. And that innocent touch burns me alive. My hands move of their own volition, ripping the

panties down to her ankles. She’s barely managed to kick them away before I’m lifting her up, slamming her back into the wall, shoving down the waistband of my shorts to free my dick. Panting, panting, panting her name.

“Take my cock, you horny fucking angel.” I ram deep, slapping a hand over her mouth to mu e the scream, barely managing to keep my own roar at bay. Perfection. She is tight, soaking wet perfection. “Take it like a good little girl,” I growl in her ear. “Cover it in that sweet fucking come, then get on your knees and lick it o for Daddy.”

I’m not sure where that word comes from.

I’m not sure why it feels right and inevitable.

I only know she comes like a fucking tidal wave as soon as I say it. Her eyes go wide over my hand she clenches down on me, tighter than she’s ever clenched before. So goddamn tight that I forgot about the men standing in the hallway. My hand falls away from her mouth and I lose my mind. I’m in a frenzy, pounding her seizing cunt into the wall, grinding on it with long, shuddering moans, reveling in the way her thighs tremble around me, the way she keeps her eyes trained on me even when she’s mid-orgasm.

“Say it, Iris,” I demand. “Obliterate me.”

“I love my Daddy,” she whispers, tremulously, setting herself o again.

The air leaves me in a massive rush.

I drive her up against the wall one final time, grip that perky ass and let go. Let go with more abandon than ever before. This is what I’ve been chasing with her without knowing it. Full authority. A relationship that is so airtight, it cannot be severed or questioned. I’m not some kind of sicko who wants to imagine her as my stepdaughter or something, I just want to be the only man in her life. I want to block out the fucking sun. I want to be where she runs for reassurance

and pleasure and safety and confidence. I’m her Daddy.

That’s it. That’s me.

We’re gasping for oxygen, holding on to each other like we’ve just been through battle. I’m covering her face and hair in kisses, running my hands over every inch of her skin.

I’ve left red abrasions on her inner thighs that will be visible tonight, since she’s wearing a skirt. Good. But it’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough for my girl.

After I fix our clothing, I scoop her still-shaking body up into my arms and enter the bedroom, setting her carefully down on the top of my dresser. I open the top drawer and take out my championship ring from last year and a gold chain one of the coaches gave me as a gift. Slipping the ring onto the chain, I fasten it around her neck where it will be easy to spot. Everyone on campus must know she’s my girl at this point, but the ring will let people know we’re deadly serious.

“Just a placeholder until I can put a real one on your finger,” I rasp, kissing her mouth.

She blinks up at me, as if stunned.

“You can’t be surprised.” I slant my mouth over hers, gathering as much of her taste as humanly possible. “You know I’m obsessed with you. You know I can’t breathe without you. I would have made you my wife that first night.

Eagerly. You’re mine, Iris. As far as you’re concerned, I’m already your husband and Daddy. The ring will be a formality.” I lean back and look at her, madness permeating my mind at the possibility that we’re not on the same page.

“You will marry me, Iris.”

“Of course I will,” she says, voice catching, and the madness recedes, replaced with joy.

My mouth finds hers again, kissing her hungrily. When she slips her tongue into my mouth, her little fists curling in the front of my shirt, my cock starts to lengthen and swell

again. We’re still wet with each other’s come. That slipperiness will help me fit easier than usual into her tight cunt. One more time. Just one more time.

At the front of the apartment, pounding has resumed on the door.

“Teddy,” calls the o ensive coordinator. “We have a security team waiting downstairs, especially for your girlfriend—” “Wife!” I shout back.

He clears his throat. “I…sorry. We weren’t aware.” A beat passes. “There is a full security detail here to escort Iris to the game. We’ve arranged for her to sit in the family box, instead of the stands. Does that work for you?”

Relief hits me and I stroke her hair, rub my thumb across her bottom lip. “Yes.” That’s good. I don’t want her in the stands.

She needs to stay as far from other students and players’ girlfriends as possible. Until I can clear up my lie. Until I can make everything right, I don’t want her to overhear whisperings of the garbage I fed my team out of jealousy. If she was made aware I said those disgusting words, I would die. I would drop dead from anguish.

“Stay in the box, honey, okay? Stay where it’s safe until I come get you after the game.”

Her smile is purer than sunshine. “You don’t worry about me. Focus on the game.” She kisses my lips softly and a wrench lodges in my throat. “I love you and I’ll be fine.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

Still, all the way to the field, there is a weight of dread pressing down on my chest.

Please let me fix this in time.

CHAPTER TEN

Iris

He’s incredible out there.

Watching Teddy sail the ball down the field, take tackles, run like the wind, find gaps in the defense, I can’t help but marvel. I’m in the family box with the wives of the coaches and various administrators. They have all been very kind to me, even if they did look a little puzzled when I arrived with four hulking security guards with guns. Most of the wives aren’t paying attention to the game. They’re most interesting in catching up with each other and talking about their children, so I sit alone, glued to the glass.

How is that machine down on the field the same man who holds me so tenderly? How is that the same man whose mouth makes love to mine slowly one second, becoming demanding in the next? He seems so far away. Like maybe everything that has taken place since I met him was a dream.

He’s everyone’s fantasy, isn’t he? Maybe he’s mine. Maybe I imagined it all.

But no.

The chafing on my thighs tells me we’re real. The heavy ring sitting around my throat like a collar means the last week truly happened.

You will marry me, Iris.

Truer words were never spoken. I’m not sure I could make it a day without his arms around me. Without his skin warming mine. I’m in love. I’m so in love, it’s practically painful. I never could have imagined this deep, consuming brand of passion before now. But I’m letting it take me. I’m being sucked down into the inky darkness of obsession along with Teddy and it’s exhilarating. I can hear every breath I take, loud and echoing in my head. I have permanent goosebumps. My breasts feel exposed, even fully covered, because they’ve been so well loved. Sucked and squeezed and bitten. Even though I speak and nod at everyone who addresses me, I’m thinking of him. Getting back to him.

I blow out a shuddering breath, fogging up the glass in front of me. I am not going to let my schoolwork su er, even though my relationship with Teddy is huge and overwhelming. I cannot fail to seize the opportunity I was given. There has to be something just for me. The way he has football, I have academics. I can’t allow anything to derail me from that.

That will be easier said than done, I’m guessing.

Down on the field, Teddy takes a hard tackle and I make a helpless sound, my shaking hand pressing to the glass until he stands up, jogs toward the huddle. Slowly, I let out the concrete breath in my lungs, my attention straying to the game clock. Five more minutes. We’re ahead by ten. Unless the other team really turns it on, another championship is in the bag. I’m so happy for Teddy. He needed this. He needed to know he could love football on his own, even though he shared the sport so closely with his father. I can’t wait to

hold him later, tell him how proud I am of him for overcoming such a tragedy. For emerging better than ever.

A cheer goes up in the family box moments later, the wives exchanging a hug. Two of them even pull me into an embrace, making me laugh and blush.

And then they all begin clearing out of the room.

“Oh…” I catch up to one of the wives. “I was asked to wait here until Teddy comes to get me. Is that all right?”

“We have to clear out,” one of my security guards answers to my right. “It’s an insurance thing. The game ran late and there’s only coverage until ten pm.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The woman lays a hand on my arm. “Are you going to be all right, dear? Or would you like a ride home from one of us?”

Looking back toward the glass, I can see Teddy down on the field. His helmet is o now and he’s being interviewed, a microphone held in front of his face. His attention continually strays up to the box, but I don’t think he can see me, due to the glare of the lights. None of his teammates are being bombarded by reporters. They’ve all left the field. And my spine can’t help but straighten with pride. Of course they want to speak with him, he was amazing out there. Game MVP according to the giant screen above the stadium.

There’s a good chance Teddy will be busy for a while.

However, instinctively I know he would probably lose his temper if I left without him. Or took a ride from someone without discussing it with him beforehand. Yes, that’s really controlling of him. His behavior is highhanded and sort of irrational—do I really need a security team?—but I won’t pretend I don’t like him caring for me, even in the craziest of ways. For so long, I barely existed. No one hugged me, let alone spoke to me. I was a shadow. He makes me feel like an entire planet.

“I’ll be fine,” I say to the coach’s wife, smiling. “Thank you for the o er, but Teddy asked me to wait for him.”

I retrieve my purse, tucking it under my arm, and I let the security team lead me down the buzzing hallway to a freight elevator. We take it down to field level and I suck in a surprised breath when the elevator doors open, revealing total pandemonium. Fans and players alike have uncorked bottles of champagne and they’re spraying it at each other. A big bucket of Gatorade is dumped on a man’s head. There are reporters and screaming students and flashes going o . It’s exciting. I’ve never witnessed something like this up close.

In a relative daze, I start to walk o the elevator, but one of the guards stays me with a hand on my elbow. “I think we should wait somewhere else.”

He’s probably right, but…this is my boyfriend’s world.

Should I get used to it? I understand he’s protective of me, but I can’t always be sheltered in the background. “I would rather stay here, if that’s okay.”

The guards seem uneasy, so I step o the elevator before one of them stops me. Someone hands me a red solo cup of beer and I laugh, taking a sip. The crisp night air combined with the magic of victory is wonderful. Knowing I’ll be home with my boyfriend soon is equally incredible. I’m just about to take my first sip of beer when one of the players stops in front of me, his jersey soaked in champagne and sweat from the game.

“There she is. The unsung hero of this game.” He turns to the crowd of celebrating fans. “Hey everyone! This is the girl who tutored Xavier. She’s the reason he passed the test so he could play tonight. Give it up!”

I’m stunned when they cheer for me. Loudly. So loudly that I fall back a step.

“Mr. Xavier made it clear he didn’t want her speaking with anyone outside of the family box,” says the head of my

security team.

“Ah, I’m one of his receivers,” says the player, waving him o . “That makes me family.” Ignoring the continued protests from my guard, the receiver smiles back down at me. There is something in his expression that makes my stomach feel hollow, but it’s probably just me. I’m still not used to speaking with strangers. “So are you going to continue tutoring Teddy?”

“If he needs it,” I say, cradling the solo cup to my chest.

“But it…i-it might be a conflict of interest now—” “Since you’re dating?”

His eyes are on the ring around my neck. When they travel lower to my breasts, I tamp down on the urge to squirm. “Yes. Since we’re dating.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “He scooped you right o the market before any of us poor assholes got a chance to shoot our shot.” His gaze meanders down to my thighs, lingering on my stockings. “Only the best for our superstar, right?”

The hint of bitterness in his tone keeps me silent. I don’t know how to respond.

He leans in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “But we both know it’s not real, don’t we?”

Pins and needles prickle my scalp. “What do you mean?”

“Teddy told us.” When I say nothing, he looks at me like I should know. Like we’re in on some secret together. “That he’s dating the smart girl for his image. So he’ll look good for the scouts. He needed something to convince them he’d settled down after all the delinquent shit he pulled. And here you are.” Surveying my body openly, he licks his lips.

“Although I’m sure he’s having one hell of a time… pretending.”

I don’t realize I’ve dropped the red cup until beer splashes up onto my shins.

My stomach is in a puddle on the ground along with the drink, my ears ringing, eyes stinging with such intensity, I can barely see what’s around me.

No. No, it’s not true.

Is it?

Does Teddy want to marry me so soon because he’ll have an easier time being scouted? Was I naïve to think he just loved me so much he couldn’t wait?

“You know,” the player continues. “I’d appreciate you so much more than him.”

Those words bounce right o . Just noise. Through gritty eyes, I survey the crowd. I look at the girls who are obviously more suited to dating a famous quarterback. Confident, capable of talking to strangers without stuttering. Was I stupid to believe this relationship with Teddy was authentic?

It seems real. More real than anything. But what do I know?

I’ve never been in a relationship before in my life.

Humiliation turns my skin red. People are staring at me because I spilled my drink and I’m making no move to pick it up or clean myself o .

I have to get out of here.

I have to get away.

Turning on a heel, I dash for the tunnel leading to the perimeter of the field, taking my guards by surprise. The audience has cleared out by now, so there is no crowd to slow me down on my way to the parking lot. I dash through those lingering behind and despite the shouting of my name in the distance, I don’t stop running until I’m o campus, my heart shattered in my chest.

Teddy

By the time I get finished with the post-game interviews, I’m fucking frantic.

I can see from the field that the family box is empty.

Lights out. The stands have cleared.

There is only one place where people are congregating— the home team sideline—and I swear to Christ, if the security team allowed Iris down here, I’m going to tear a hole in the sky. There is alcohol and groupies riding on the shoulders of my teammates. Even the coaches are acting like fools, singing and guzzling champagne straight from the bottle. When I arrive at the impromptu gathering, everyone goes wild, cheering, slapping me on the back and taking pictures of me with their phones. But I don’t give a shit about any of it. I’m glad we won the game. I’m relieved I lived up to expectations and I feel some closure with my father’s death, but the only person I want to celebrate with is Iris.

And there is no sign of my sweet girlfriend anywhere.

Don’t panic.

Don’t panic.

I arrived at the game too late to talk to my teammates. I need to explain to them how important Iris is to me. This is my chance. Iris is somewhere safe with the security team, so I can take two minutes to straighten out the story. Then I can stop having nightmares about her finding out. Just two minutes and I can go find her— I stop dead in my tracks when the members of Iris’s security team appear on the fringes of the crowd. Without Iris.

The helmet slips from my fingers.

“Where is she?” I roar, my heart rocketing up into my mouth.

Silence lands around me like a shower of bricks.

Panic like I’ve never experienced slices into me like knives. I’m halfway toward the security guards before I realize I’ve moved. They back away from me, holding their palms out. I must appear deranged. Good. That’s exactly what I am. They weren’t supposed to leave her side. They weren’t even supposed to leave the family box. What the hell is going on?

“Answer me. Now,” I growl through my teeth. “Where is my girl? Where is she?”

One of them steps forward, visibly nervous. “She ran o , Mr. Xavier. We chased her, but she got a head start and it was too dark to see which direction she went.”

Ice forms on every inch of my body. Dizziness grips me.

“Why would she…” My voice is weak. I barley have the power to form words. “Why would she run?”

Somehow I already know the answer.

I know what’s coming.

And all I can do is stand on the tracks and wait for the train to mow me down. Because I deserve this. I was careless and idiotic and now I’m going to pay with my life.

“I don’t want to get involved in your personal business,” mutters the guard. “But one of your teammates…I overheard him saying some things to her.”

“You weren’t supposed to allow anyone to talk to her!” I bellow, ripping o my jersey. My shoulder pads. I’m being su ocated. Oh God, she’s o somewhere alone. She’s run away, hurt. I’ve lost her. I’m going to die. I want to die.

“He might have hinted that your relationship with her isn’t…genuine.”

That’s the final blow.

I drop down to my knees, pitch forward and lose the contents of my stomach.

Sounds no longer penetrate my ears. The world is blurry around me. I squeeze my eyes closed and all I can see is Iris’s beautiful face. How she’d cry if she thought I’d been lying to her. Please, no. Please don’t let this be happening. A single one of her tears is agony. Unacceptable.

I have to go find her, but my legs aren’t working.

Pull it together.

She’s out there somewhere in the darkness.

She could be in danger.

It’s the fear of her being harmed that pulls me out of my delirium. Enough to stumble to my feet and whirl around.

“Which one of you spoke to Iris?” I shout raggedly. “Who was it?”

Because yes, this situation is totally my fault.

But there is no doubt in my mind the information wasn’t passed on to Iris with good intentions. Someone wants what is mine. Rage boils over inside of me. Helpless fucking rage.

No one answers me, but I’m their quarterback. I’m their team captain. It’s my job to read their body language. So when one of my receivers ducks back into the shadows, I go after him like a bull chasing a matador. He makes it two steps before I’m on top of him, flipping him over and delivering a right cross to his petrified face. Blood sprays from his nose and he tries to swing back, but I evade him and throw another punch. Harder. Shouting obscenities through my teeth. Fully prepared to choke the life out of him.

“You did this, man,” he says, spitting blood into the grass. “All I did was tell her the truth.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I respond, my voice cracking.

He’s right. I don’t want to hear it, though.

Iris. Iris. Iris, I’m sorry.

“Think I’ve got a chance with her now?” taunts the receiver, lashing out in his embarrassment over having his ass handed to him in front of a crowd. “Tell me the truth.

She’s all cute and innocent in the streets, but she rides it nasty in the sheets, doesn’t she?”

I knock him out cold.

There is no word for the mixture of terror and rage inside of me. I’m sick to my stomach. I’m scared she’s in danger.

I’m destitute without her. I hate myself.

Teeming with the sharpest edges of these emotions, I turn and run for the locker room. I have to get the keys to my truck. I have to go find her. Now. Now. Right the hell now. I’ll explain everything and I’ll apologize until she forgives me.

There is no other option. I can’t live without Iris. I don’t want to. People call my name, but I hear next to nothing, save the rapid pounding of my heart. A heart that will stop beating without her.

In nothing but football pants and cleats and pouring sweat, I peel out of the parking lot minutes later, racing home. Hurtling through the entrance and shouting her name. She’s not there, though. She’s not there. Only her addicting scent. Battling the crippling disappointment, I struggle to think for a minute, then drive my truck back to campus and search her old dorm room while her roommate babbles at me and takes selfies with me in the background.

Not here.

Where is she?

Where…

And then I know.

I know exactly where to find her.

My blood runs ice cold.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Iris

I sit huddled in the embrace of the cove, the wind carrying droplets of salt water and stinging my cheeks. The moonlight keeps the beach from being totally dark, but that didn’t stop me from stumbling and falling twice in the forest on my way down the path. I have blood on my knees and the heels of my hands, but I don’t care. I’m numb. I’m shaking. I can’t move. It took all of my strength to get here and now I’m a statue on the sand. A monument to being gullible.

A sob breaks from my lips and I draw my knees up to my chest, rocking, tears coasting down my cheeks and over my mouth, dropping o my chin.

Stupid. How incredible stupid can I be?

I don’t have a chance to answer that for myself, because I’m distracted by the roar of an engine. Once the hum cuts out, I sit, immobile, staring at the clearing, positive some drunk students are going to come stumbling out onto the beach any moment, searching for privacy in which to make out. I never expect Teddy to come striding out of the woods, bare chested in football pants. “Iris,” he chokes out, slowing

to a stop and doubling over. “Oh thank God. Thank God you’re okay. I found you.”

Even now, when I know the awful truth, my heart still clamors at the sight of him. “You should be celebrating,” I murmur, dazed. Exhausted. Devastated.

“I don’t want to be anywhere but with you.” He approaches me slowly. Almost cautiously. But his eyes…his eyes are wild. Bloodshot. When he glimpses the blood on my hands and knees, he turns as pale as a ghost. “You’re hurt.

You’re fucking hurt.”

“No, I’m not. I’m fine.”

He tears at his hair. “You shouldn’t have come here in the dark—” “Stop.” I cover my eyes. “Just stop.” Quit acting like you care. It hurts.

A beat passes. “Iris, I can see you’ve closed yourself o to me. The way you’re looking at me is di erent and I can’t fucking stand it, honey. Please don’t do this. Please don’t believe what that idiot told you.” He falls to his knees in front of me and it’s impossible not to acknowledge how gorgeous he is. How chiseled. A God draped in moonlight, fresh from victory. “I lied. I lied to them.” He takes me by the shoulders, shaking me gently, the breath rattling in and out of his chest. “You showed up at practice and they…they were all lusting after you and it’s arrogant, God, I know it sounds arrogant, but the fact that you locked me down piqued their interest. No one has ever even turned my head. And they want to know why you did. They wanted to sample my treasure. And I couldn’t allow it. I’d go fucking mad if someone laid a finger on you. So I tried to…I told them I was only using you to repair my image, so they would fuck o and stop wanting what’s mine. I messed up. I knew right away I’d messed up and I was going to fix it tonight. I was too late.”

A tear escapes my eye and he howls brokenly, throwing his head down into my lap and wrapping his sinewy arms around my waist “Don’t cry. Oh God, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

I play back his explanation in my mind. I play it back twice and I find…

I believe him.

There was a part of me that didn’t believe the receiver.

There is no way to fake the kind of passion Teddy and I brew together. But the hurt of that initial sting went too deep and I don’t know how to repair myself. I’ve been wounded too severely by the lies to stop the bleeding.

“It’s better this way,” I say, not recognizing the dead quality of my voice. “We’re nothing alike. I’m not the girl who dates the quarterback—” “Yes, you fucking are! You’re marrying him.”

“No.” “No?” Bloodshot eyes lift to mine, swirling with insanity. My breath hitches. I’m right, aren’t I? He would be better o with someone who didn’t grow up alone. Someone who has experience with being in the public eye. Someone who would look more appropriate at his side— He sits up, having gone very still. “Are you saying you’re not going to marry me?”

I can’t answer. There’s an invisible hand around my throat stopping me from taking it all back. Begging him to drive me home, despite the fact that I know it’s wrong. That letting him go is for the best, right? No way I can be what everyone expects the wife of a famous athlete to be.

“Right,” he says, the light going out of him. Like a candle being doused.

He stands up, turns, and walks straight into the ocean.

It takes me a moment to piece together what is happening. I watch dazed as he wades farther and farther into the water. First, his hips vanish beneath the inky black surface. And then his huge shoulders. Gone. Followed by his head. Several seconds pass and he doesn’t come up. What is he doing?

I don’t realize I’m crawling toward the water until my knees protest the fine sand and rocks digging into my injured skin, but I keep going. Then I push myself up onto shaky legs and start running, throwing myself into the ocean. He still hasn’t come up. It has been at least twenty seconds. The shockingly cold temperature of the water barely registers, because my insides are much colder. I’m a block of ice and chattering teeth cutting through the water, screaming his name, trying to keep my eyes on the spot where he disappeared so I can dive down.

It's a terrible time to realize I’ve been foolish. Utterly silly. I love this man and I know he loves me. These are truths beyond a shadow of a doubt. His explanation about what happened with his teammates is not only plausible, it’s likely. Teddy is possessive of me. Jealous. Protective. He would lie to his teammates to divert their newfound interest in me. And it turns out, he was sort of right to do so. Didn’t that receiver hit on me within a minute of making my acquaintance after the game?

What have I done?

I let my hurt feelings own me. I lashed out, let my insecurities win…and now?

Could he die? Could he die because of me?

Sobs wrench up and out of my throat as I flail around, searching for his solid body in the water. I take huge breaths and dive as deep as possible, unable to see anything in the jet-black ocean—

My hand knocks into something smooth and I lurch forward, running my hands over shoulders, a neck, his face.

“Teddy,” I scream into the water, pulling him with all of my might toward the surface. When we reach the top, I slug down oxygen and so does Teddy—thank God—but his eyes remain dead. Like if I let go of him, he’ll sink right back down to the bottom. “Teddy, stop this,” I demand through shattering teeth. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I love you and I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home.” He continues to stare o into the distance until I say, “I’m freezing cold. I’m so cold.”

Those words are like shock paddles to my comatose boyfriend. All at once, he seems to realize I’m in the ocean, shaking, my skin turning blue and he makes an anguished sound, tucking me against him beneath one arm and kicking toward shore. “Iris. Iris, you’re cold.”

It’s not long before he is able to touch the bottom with his feet. He crushes me into his arms, leaping over waves until we hit dry sand. And then he begins to run, his breath loud in my ears. All I can do is cling to him and issue mental prayers of gratitude that I reached him in time. I don’t think he would have ever come up. Oh God. Oh God. The magnitude of what might have happened hits me all at once and I start crying. Loud, pitiful sobs into the crook of his neck. I cling to him tight, so he can’t go anywhere. I hurt him so much, he wanted to die. How could I do that? How? Teddy’s steps grow uneven. “No. No crying. Please.”

His animosity toward my tears only makes me cry louder.

I hear the tinkle of metal and recognize the sound of his keys. We’ve reached his truck. Quickly, Teddy unlocks the rear cab and sets me on the seat, leaving me there long enough to start the engine at the front of the truck and crank the heat. In a flash, I’m being gathered back into his arms, his hoarse breaths bathing my forehead. He cups my cheek

in a hand, tilting my face up and scrutinizing me frantically.

“Be okay. Be okay. Please be okay.”

“I-I’m okay.” Not very reassuring when I can’t unclench my teeth.

He issues a broken sound. “I’m going to strip you down.

Body heat will help. It has to help.” His hands are shaking violently as he peels o my sodden shirt, tearing o my bra when he can’t undo the clasp right away. Then I’m against him again, his arms wrapped tightly around my body. He rocks me, wheezing, praying, cursing. “Come on, honey.

Come on.”

“I should be more worried about you,” I hiccup, my body pliant enough now to straddle his lap, Teddy drawing me as close as he’s able, my jean skirt riding up around my waist, dripping with ocean water. “I want to warm you up, too,” I say, tremulously, scrubbing my hands up down the hard contours of his back. “You were down there l-longer than me.”

“I’m still down there, Iris. I’ll be down there forever. I’ve lost you.”

I bolt upright in his lap, absorbing the total misery on his incredible face and a strip is torn clean from my heart. “No. No, you haven’t.” I press our foreheads together. “I’m sorry.

Didn’t you hear me? I’m sorry for running away and not waiting for an explanation. B-back on the beach, I believed you, but I was still hurting and feeling vulnerable, so I pushed you away. But I am the girl who marries the quarterback, if the quarterback is you, Teddy. Please, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.”

He isn’t breathing now. “You…you’re mine again? You’re coming back to me?”

Hot tears rain down my face. “Of course I am.”

His chest begins to heave. “You’ll be my wife, Iris?”

“Yes. Yes.”

I’ve barely gotten my second yes out when his mouth locks onto mine. Tears slide down our faces and blend into the wetness of our kiss. A kiss that turns heavy, consuming and frenzied. I can feel both of us realizing how di erently tonight might have turned out and we rejoice in finding our way back to one another. We glory in being back together with greedy sweeps of our tongues, restless hips and seeking hands.

“I’m so proud of your win tonight,” I manage when we come up for air, cupping his face in my palms. “You were amazing out there. You won. I knew you’d win.”

He shakes his head slowly. “The real victory is getting to spend my life with you, Iris.” His eyes glitter in the darkness of the truck, his heart beating loud enough to hear. “I’ll never, ever hurt you again.”

“I know.”

Relief washes over his features, but his expression quickly grows heated. Color su uses his cheeks, his nostrils flaring.

“You’re definitely warm now. Your cunt is melting me straight through those panties.” His hands travel from my hair, down my back to my buttocks, molding my cheeks in his hands. “You need to ride my big prick?”

“Yes,” I gasp, my nipples peaking painfully, my femininity clenching. Lubricating.

Our hands knock together to push aside fabric. Down come his football pants and my underwear. We surge back together, mouths clashing, me sobbing, him whispering prayers. He fists his erection and I lift my hips, taking him inside me one inch at a time until he’s growling deep in his chest, his eyes rolled back in his head. “Jesus Christ. Going to have the tightest little wife in town, aren’t I? Show me what I’m getting,” he begs feverishly against my mouth. “Give me a preview of the rest of our lives so I stop thinking about you leaving me. Please.”

Overcome by love, lust, responsibility, adoration, I lean down and bury my teeth in his thick shoulder, my lower body circling once, twice, three times until he’s panting and then I start to buck my hips, loosening the base of my spine so I can snap back and grind forward with the right amount of force and friction, pumping him in and out of me, root to tip.

“Fuck!” Teddy shouts through his teeth, his hands on my butt, urging, urging, slapping. “You make it so perfect. You make everything perfect.”

“And you make me happy,” I whisper, our foreheads meeting, eyes locking.

“That’s all I want to do, Iris,” he rasps, his voice heavy with emotion. “Let me.”

My lips curl into a smile against his mouth, a breathy moan leaving me, hips moving faster. Faster. “This is a very good start.”

His rich laugh washes over me and then I’m being pinned onto the seat face up, my future husband looming over me.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Iris.”

The truck doesn’t stop rocking for hours.

EPILOGUE

Teddy

Five Years Later

Belting my robe, I walk to the bedroom window and look down at the circular driveway, grimacing when a man holding a leather briefcase climbs out of an SUV. I am not happy about this.

I hate interviews and I don’t like people in my house around my wife and kids. I give enough energy out on the field, there is no reason journalists have to come snooping in my business when I’m o the clock. Unfortunately, Iris and I are constantly hounded by news people who want an exclusive story from us. Not about football. About our relationship. It has become a source of fascination among the public and the interest is not going away. No, it’s at a fever pitch now. Iris thinks if we lay all of our cards on the table and give an exclusive to Vanity Fair, they’ll stop calling

and making their endless requests. More importantly, the paparazzi will stop following my Iris everywhere she goes.

My hand turns into a fist on the windowsill.

Last week, she was so blinded by flashes, she almost crashed her car leaving the parking lot at the university where she teaches. I thought security was airtight, but these vermin keep finding a way back in. They keep finding a way to harass my girl.

Mine.

Mine.

I close my eyes and breathe through the wave of possessiveness, counting to ten like I practiced with Iris.

When we were first married five years ago, I would have punched through this window during bouts of greediness where Iris is concerned. Once our son and daughter were born, though, I had to start working on controlling the emotions Iris inspires in me. They’re still razor sharp and raw, but I’m not quite as destructive. Progress.

Sensing movement behind me, I turn to find the object of my obsession coming out of our walk-in closet, humming absently and putting on an earring. Oh my God, is she ever beautiful. She’s wearing a new dress. A silk one. Blue. It hugs her all over, especially in the ass.

Mine.

The center of my chest twists into a knot, my abdomen knitting together in anticipation of fucking. Christ, I am dying for a lick of her little wet pussy. She always begs for a rough pound after I’ve been feasting between her legs and that’s exactly what I’m in the mood for. A good, sweaty bang, Iris’s legs trembling around my waist, titties bouncing for Daddy.

God yes.

I start to unbelt my robe, but she catches sight of me and tilts her head. “Is that what you’re wearing for the

interview? It starts in two minutes.”

A growl works its way free of my throat. “It’s our goddamn house. I’ll wear my damn robe if I want to.”

She’s battling a smile. “Okay.”

“I’m not annoyed at you,” I say quickly. “It’s all for them.”

“I know.”

“They hound you, honey.”

Here I go. I have to sit down on the edge of the bed and count to ten again. It helps when Iris comes over and combs her fingers through my hair, counting with me.

When we moved to Green Bay after the NFL draft, we were shocked to find the public’s fascination with our relationship had been growing since our days in college.

Apparently there was footage floating around the internet of me walking out of the building after passing my Western Civilization test and throwing Iris over my shoulder. It had gone viral on TikTok. Overnight, there were several Instagram accounts dedicated to us—and the interest didn’t end when we transferred Iris to her new school so she could continue to study, earn her degree and the scrutiny blew up my first year in the league. I was the hot new rookie on a winning streak and Iris was the pregnant, nineteen-year-old beauty watching from the glass box, high above the stadium, her heart in her eyes. My jersey wrapped around her. Ten security guards positioned on all sides—a requirement of my contract.

It's hard to blame people for being fascinated. Love this powerful isn’t typical.

It’s a fucking gift, just like every damn second with her.

“We don’t have to let them all the way in,” she whispers, nestling into the V of my outstretched thighs. “Just enough to satisfy their curiosity.”

I grunt, rubbing my face between her tits. “And then we come back to bed?”

She hums, a tremor passing through her. “Yes. Until the kids are ready to be picked up from nursery school.”

The mention of Allie and Christopher makes me smile. My son is four, my daughter three. They are curious and funny and brave. They are a mixture of me and Iris and I’ll never stop marveling over them. Along with their mother, they’re my life. My source of happiness. But my obsession? That’s for Iris alone. Its wild and without end.

I lick a path from between her tits up to the hollow of her throat, dipping and swirling my tongue there, absorbing her scent, her shiver, her tiny gasp of air. “You going to let Daddy fuck you in that pretty new dress, Iris?”

Her shivers turn more pronounced, her knees pressing together. “Yes.” “Nasty?” I breathe at her throat. “In the other room?”

She can’t answer now, so she nods. Obediently. Biting down on her bottom lip.

My cock is sti as hell in my briefs. Mouth is dry. How am I going to make it through this interview without dragging my sexy wife to a di erent floor and taking her doggy style on the floor somewhere? She loves it from behind. Especially when she’s naked and I’m fully dressed.

God, I’m turned on. When am I not?

Iris exists. That fact alone keeps my dick hard. End of story.

Over the last five years, our sexual relationship has become…intense. Even more so than it was in the beginning.

It was always pretty obvious that she enjoyed my dominance —a lot—but now? Now she is entranced by it. The slightest wielding of my power can make her tremble, turning her pussy to cream in a heartbeat. Our bedroom is for lovemaking and we do that. Frequently. Slow and thorough

and so fucking emotional, sometimes it takes me hours to come down. But we have a secret, soundproof bedroom on the other side of our walk-in closet so she can scream for her Daddy without anyone hearing. Where I can spank her tight ass and knock the headboard into the wall without someone calling the cops.

That’s where we get nasty.

We’re marked by each other, inside and out.

And suddenly…I don’t know where the desire comes from, but it rockets out of me. This need for the world to know that I would die for her. That I would sell my soul to stop her from crying. Or to see her smile. The love inside of me for Iris has expanded so much that I can no longer lock it inside.

My muscles are fatigued from trying. That’s where the bouts of possessiveness come from. Keeping this ferocious obsession caged.

I surge up from the bed, scooping up my wife in my arms and carrying her from the bedroom. My robe is open and all I’m wearing underneath is black briefs and I don’t give a shit. I just have to get this burning ache o my chest.

Our housekeeper has seated the journalist from Vanity Fair in the dining room and he stands up when I storm inside, holding Iris against my chest like a treasure. Which she obviously is. He blinks at us, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. But I only have eyes for my wife who is gazing up at me curiously, then knowingly, scenes from the last five beautiful years flashing in my mind. She can see them, too. See what I’m thinking. She can read my mind, like only the love of my life can.

“Write this down,” I bark at the man without breaking eye contact with Iris. “Teddy Xavier lives every single second of his life for Iris Xavier…”

THE END

Want another New Adult read from Jessa?

Check out: MAKING THEIR VOWS The moment Grace Foster locks eyes with the brutally beautiful underground fighter, she knows her life is never going to be the same. There is something about North Whitlock that makes her temperature rise dramatically, her scruples vanishing into thin air. They are drawn together like magnets, despite their obvious di erences. Grace attends a wealthy prep school while North must fight to survive. They don’t make sense as a couple—and her father would never, ever approve of the dangerous brawler. Trying to stop North from seeing his Gracie, though? Not a chance. Staying away from each other when every touch sets them aflame is an impossible feat…but will they survive the explosive consequences?

Get it here: https://bit.ly/3I0RXNL Or on Jessa’s Website https://www.jessakaneauthor.com