“Bring it.” Her lips curl into an almost feral grin, but underneath I still see the hurt from earlier. Part of her wants me to fuck away her pain and another part of her wants to be held and soothed. I can give her both.

I claim her mouth at the same time I thrust inside of her. Her channel is wet and ready, and I slide in with no resistance. She’s still tight as fuck and I have to pause for a minute before withdrawing.

We find a rhythm, slower than normal, as if we both want to get lost in this physical world where it’s only her and me and all the pleasure we can wring from each other.

I rear back, almost coming out of her completely, and then drive forward with bruising force. Her body welcomes me. Her legs fall open, her arms wrap around my neck, her mouth eats away at mine. I bury my nose in the sweat-dampened skin of her neck so that every breath I take fills my lungs with her.

Ellie bucks against me, telling me with her body that she wants more. Christ, the knot of pleasure that’s built in me since I first started taking her clothes off is close to bursting.

Please come, baby. Please come, I plead silently.

“I’m so close,” I grind out.

“Me, too.” Her legs tighten around my hips. “I’m close, too.”

I feel it. Her body’s a taut string ready to go off. I reach between us and find her engorged clit. She gasps at my first touch and tries to scoot away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” I tell her roughly. I pinch and roll that small spot of flesh between my fingers. She gives a keening cry as the climax grips her and then reaches up to bite my shoulder.

Stars go off in front of my eyes and I fracture. I reach under her legs, practically folding her in half, and hold her there while I pound into her like a frantic animal.

“Knox. Knox.” Her nails dig into my biceps as the orgasm I’ve held off for so long shoots out of me. I buck and pump wildly as she milks me with her tight pussy. I come for a century and then collapse next to her, chest heaving like I’ve chased a wide receiver from his ten yard line to the end zone.

Even though we’re totally spent, we can’t stop touching each other. I methodically rub her from shoulder to wrist. She runs her toes against my calf. We place kisses on the bare flesh we can reach without moving too far.

“Bathroom sex. Was that on your list?” she jokes after catching her breath. She’s not quite back to her old self, but it’s closer. I breathe a mental sigh of relief.

“What’s not on my list?” I say lightly.

She props herself up, and my eyes fall to her still rosy tits. A few bruises form on the tops where I may have sucked a little too long and hard. I don’t feel even remotely sorry about it. I shove one hand underneath my head and try not to look too pleased.

“Do you have an actual list?”

“Not written down,” I admit. “But I have a mental one. Shower sex was up there. The locker room definitely.”

“Where else?”

“Bus ride, plane ride, road head. Maybe on the back of a motorcycle. Your ass would look real nice bent over a bike seat.”

She tweaks my nipple. “You don’t even have a bike.”

“Not yet, but who knows.”

She scoffs. “Your NFL contract would prevent you from buying one. Isn’t there some dangerous activities ban?”

“So, I buy one, and it sits in the garage with the Bugatti and Aston Martin—and I bend you over all of those.”

“How about I do the bending?” she teases.

“I thought we were talking about my fantasies.” I roll her over before she can pinch me again because holy crap that hurt. Nipples get really sensitive when all your blood has risen to the skin. I plan to use that new knowledge to my advantage. Bracing myself over her, I bend down and nip at her mouth, and then her neck.

“When does Ty get here?” she asks.

“He’s coming straight from the airport to the game. We’ll meet him afterward. You sure you want to make dinner? Because we can go out.”

“No, I want to.” She makes a face. “I guess I want to impress him and show him how sweet and domesticated I am.”

We both laugh at that. She’s not sweet and she’s not super domesticated. She’s tart, a little mouthy, and just right for me.

“He’ll love you.”

“Really? How do you know?” Her finger writes a five repeatedly on my chest. I tell myself it’s because she’s as obsessed with me as I am with her.

“Because I do.”

She continues her finger tracing silently. I bite back my frustration. It doesn’t feel real good to have my declaration hanging out there. Maybe she didn’t get it. I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth until I feel like I can say the words.

“I said I love you.”

It comes out as almost an accusation.

Her breath catches and she turns her face to hide it against the side of my skin. I hear something, or more accurately, feel a mumbling against my chest. When she raises her face to mine, it’s wet with tears.

With a trembling voice, her own words tumble forth. “Oh, Knox, I love you, too. I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you.”

The real anguish in her voice kills me. I clutch her closer to me. I wish I could squeeze her uneasiness out into the open where I could bash it with my fists. But emotions don’t work like objects.

All I can do is be there for her.

28 Ellie

Tuesday

“You can stay here, you know?” Knox says as he tugs on his running shoes in the morning.

“No, you have a lot of team stuff to do and I need to work on a midterm paper for my creative writing class.” None of which I got done yesterday. He grabs my neck and pulls me in for a swift, hard kiss. I want to call him back, extend it longer because I don’t know if it’s the last one I’ll ever get from him.

“Okay. I’ll text you later.” And then he’s off.

I wait for Jack. It’s not the best time to approach him given that he has a game in a few days, but he’ll always have something going on. Today’s Tuesday. He has four days to get his head on straight. And I’m done making excuses for myself.

“What’s up, Ellie Bellie?” Jack asks as he lets himself out of his house. “Don’t tell me that you were at Masters’ until this morning. I think we work best on a Don’t Ask Don’t Tell basis,” he jokes.

“Do you have a little time?”

He checks his phone. “Sure. I planned on going over to the weight room and getting in a little cardio, but I can do that later.”

“I thought we’d go down to the park on Court and Seventh.” It’s a tiny abandoned playground with four swings and a tattered slide. I’ve never seen anyone there.

He raises his eyebrows but gestures toward his Jeep. “Sure, let’s go.”

The drive to the park on the south side of campus doesn’t take more than ten minutes. My hands shake the entire way and I have to press them between my legs to keep from alerting Jack to how upset I am.

“Do you want to get out?” he asks when he pulls onto the broken pavement.

It’s close in here. If there’s an explosion, we should probably be outside. “Yeah.”

We climb out in silence but once the doors close, Jack turns to me. “Want to tell me what is going on?”

I take a deep breath and the chill air sends a bracing shock to my lungs. “I love you, Jack.”

“Love you too, El.” His face is heavy with suspicion but he doesn’t hesitate in his reply.

Grief stings the back of my throat, making my voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you remember when you go those two Ds in eighth grade and I offered to proof your schoolwork?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never stopped.” I inhale again, searching for the courage to say the rest of it. “I’ve helped you for years, changing answers here and there. Rewriting your papers. Just enough that I hoped no one would notice but you’d never get another D.” I force myself to watch him as the expression on his face moves from confusion to comprehension to outright horror. “I’m auditing your sociology and game theory classes so I know exactly what you have to do to maintain your GPA. I’ve changed answers on your worksheet questions and on your ungraded midterm.”