Rough Play (A MLM Sports Romance)

ANDRE's POV

"Hello, Sailor."

Lexie slipped her hand into my sweats and wrapped her fingers around my cock through my briefs. I shuddered.

Not a lot. Just enough. Just enough for her to feel it and smile against my mouth.

“Oh my God,” she murmured. “You’re so fucking hard.”

“We don’t have time,” I said.

She kissed me anyway. Soft the way she always did, like she was asking. I pulled her in deeper because I was the one who decided how things went. She stroked me slow through the cotton and I felt it everywhere.

Lexie pulled back and looked up at me.

“Your sister isn’t home, is she?” she asked.

“Piano lessons until seven,” I said. “We’re good.”

She smiled and kissed her way down my throat, my chest, my stomach. I put my hand in her hair and let her take her time because I was never in a rush.

She pulled my sweats down and wrapped her hand around my cock. Slow strokes. Getting familiar the way she always did. Then she ran her tongue up the underside from base to tip and I exhaled through my nose.

She took the head into her mouth.

Just the head. Tongue working circles, cheeks hollowed, steady suction that made my fingers tighten in her hair. I felt every second of it. I stared at the ceiling and kept my breathing even.

She took me deeper and the heat spread through my whole lower body. Long slow pulls. Her hand working the base, twisting on the upstroke in exactly the way she knew I liked. She found the angle that made my thighs press into the mattress and stayed right there. Patient. Deliberate. Taking me apart one stroke at a time.

I was holding the edge of it with everything I had.

Then my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I ignored it.

It buzzed again.

I picked it up and looked at the screen.

Tanner.

My best friend and the only person alive who had zero concept of timing.

I accepted the call.

“Yo.” Tanner’s voice came through loud. “You adding extra sessions this week? For Thursday?”

Lexie looked up at me, mouth still full, eyebrow raised. She didn’t stop.

“I’m a little occupied right now, man,” I said.

“Two minutes. Wolves game. Extra training, yes or no?”

“No.” My voice came out even. “They don’t need that level of attention from me.”

“Bro, I’m telling you, they are not the same team. Something changed.”

“Same coach. Same system. Three losses to us in a row.” I kept my eyes on the ceiling. “I’m not losing sleep over the Harley Wolves.”

“Okay but you haven’t seen the news today.”

Lexie pulled back to just the tip and sucked hard.

My jaw locked. I breathed through my nose and said nothing for two full seconds.

“Now is seriously not a good time, Tanner.”

“One name,” he said. “Ten seconds and I’m gone.”

She took me all the way down and held it. Her throat worked around me and I fixed my eyes on the ceiling and held on.

“Tanner—”

“They picked up a transfer. Just dropped this morning. Andre, you need to hear this one.”

Her hand tightened at the base. Her mouth moved faster. The heat built low and hard and I was right at the edge of it.

I tugged her hair lightly. “Stop,” I whispered. “I’m gonna cum.”

She looked up at me.

And kept going.

“What’s his name?” I said into the phone.

“Richard O’Reilly.”

That name pushed me straight over and my eyes rolled back. My head dropped against the pillow and my stomach contracted hard and a groan ripped out of me before I could do a single thing about it. I spilled into her mouth and she swallowed and kept stroking, hand firm and relentless, working every last bit of it out of me while I pressed my fist into the mattress and tried to remember how to form words.

“Bro.” Tanner’s voice shifted. “What the hell was that? You good?”

“Stubbed my toe,” I said. My voice came out completely destroyed.

“You stubbed your toe.”

“Yeah.”

“On what?”

“Tanner, I swear to God.”

Lexie’s hand kept moving, slow now. I reached down and grabbed her wrist. She looked up at me and I shook my head once. She sat back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, watching me with an expression I didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with right now.

“O’Reilly,” I said. “Transfer from where?”

“Eastbrook. Starting flanker. Bro the clips are everywhere. This guy doesn’t just play hard, he plays like he wants to end people. It’s different. It’s personal.”

“Send me the clips.”

“Already sent them. Twenty minutes ago.”

“Then I’ll watch them and call you back.”

“Andre, watch them now. I’m not being dramatic.”

“I’ll call you back,” I said.

I ended the call and the room went quiet immediately.

Lexie sat at the foot of the bed with her hair wrecked, watching me with that look she got when she knew something had shifted and was deciding whether to push on it.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I stared at my phone. At the name sitting in the middle of my chest like something I hadn’t agreed to carry.

Richard O’Reilly.

I’d never heard of him. Never seen him play. Couldn’t pick him out of a crowd. And still the name sat there, heavy and stubborn and wrong in a way I couldn’t explain.

I looked up at Lexie, the confusion still prominent on my face.

“Who the fuck is Richard O’Reilly?“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​