Lahat ng Kabanata ng Completion Sports: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Aiden“Take me against the door,” she orders. With a sensual smile, she drops her leg and peppers kisses on my lips and jaw while toeing off her sandals. At last her fingers move to the top of her jeans and she unzips them. I help pull them down and then lift her so she can kick the material aside. Her hands go to my shoulders and I press her back against the door again while lifting her up so her legs circle my waist. I skim my fingers down her side until I reach the top of her panties. They’re a white, sheer, barely-there material. My fingers slip beneath the silk. With a gentle bite to her lower lip, she opens for me again. At the same time, her slick, wet heat registers on my fingers while they slide between her thighs. I want a taste so fucking bad.This is wrong. Very, very wrong.I use my finger to circle the swollen wet lips of her pussy while stroking her tongue with mine. She lets out a disgruntled sigh and grinds against my hand. I smile into the kiss. Her smell reaches me.

JordanBobby’s face turns a shade darker. I put my hand out and he shakes it quickly. “I know who you are, ma’am. Nice to meet you. The front office told me to appropriate larger towels so they cover more.” He doesn’t quite meet my eyes the entire time he talks. “Here they are,” he hands me two large, fluffy, white towels. “I’ll have fresh ones for you each day. Your kicking stats are impressive and you’re exactly what our team needs.”It’s so hard not to smirk at Aiden. At least this kid has an open mind. “Thank you, Bobby. How did you come across my kicking stats?”He shuffles his feet and looks down at the floor. “I tallied them myself. I saw the story about you on TV a couple years ago and started following your games.”This kid can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen. He also isn’t in the loop that I’m to be treated like I’m not here. That’s the normal MO of the guys before they adjust to having me around. “Don’t say that too loud or the team might overhear you and you’ll lose yo

JordanThe second practice of the day is full pads.“It may be hot here but just wait until White Sands,” Lane says after helping me adjust my pads. It’s nice that he’s finally decided I’m worthy of his attention. Small steps, I assure myself. Afternoon practice is training camp torture and no one is exempt, not even kickers. Coach Morely has me and Lane run four slow laps around the field. He doesn’t want us twisting an ankle by doing sprints with the other players.When our mile is complete, we head onto the field and join special teams. I haven’t seen Aiden since lunch, and I do my best not to think about him. The coach lines us up for additional warmups and after that the true practice begins. Although we’re wearing pads, these are no-contact drills with me kicking extra points and field goals with a mock defense running at me. I miss my first two attempts to get the ball through the goalposts because of nerves. The sun beating down doesn’t help nor do grumbles from players. Lane

AidenJordan also takes a bite. She closes her eyes as she slowly chews. She’s not wearing lipstick, but that doesn’t detract from the sensuality of her lips. She slowly opens her eyes and puts another bite on her fork. “Lane is helping me on that score. We’ve got this covered,” she says after swallowing.I make a low, deep sound in my throat and my fingers tighten on my fork. I’m surprised the damn thing doesn’t bend in half. So this is what jealousy feels like. “Lane, huh?” I ask in a deceptively mild tone.“Yeah. You know, the punter?” Her mouth opens and she slips the fork between her lips again. She licks her bottom lip after swallowing the bite and I almost come in my pants. I swear she’s driving me crazy on purpose.“I know who Lane is.” The words slip out much harsher than I planned to let on and Jordan misses nothing.She gives me a closed mouth grin and chews another bite. Very daintily, she wipes her mouth. Hell, I’m fascinated with everything to do with this woman’s lips.

JordanHe’s being a goof and when he winks at me, I go back to being comfortable with him. “One ass slap after a field goal or extra point is in our rulebook.”“The other players have no idea what they’re missing.”“We’ll keep it that way.” We banter until we reach the restaurant. Lane comes around the car and helps me out.“This will be good for the team,” he assures me. “You need to see them when they let loose a little and they need to see you in the same light.” He takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. He opens the restaurant door and we enter Dominque’s Grill. A section in the back is sectioned off for the team. From the sounds coming from their direction, the drinks are flowing freely.This is a team-only dinner—no family, wives, or girlfriends. This could be the first time a woman has desecrated their season kickoff party. We enter the back area and several players toss out hellos to Lane. Besides the long stares at my body and a few whistles, I’m ign