Killian buries his face in my neck, his teeth nipping at my sensitive skin as he spurs me on. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Let go.”
With a scream that would put any good rugby cheerleader to shame, I shatter around him, my inner walls clenching against him as I orgasm harder than I ever have before.
Killian follows suit, his body rigid beneath mine.
“You’re mine, Dylan,” he growls out, his voice guttural and animalistic as he pulls out, his hot seed spraying across my chest, and the scoreboard lights up to reveal the final score.
“It’s a draw,” I whisper.
I stir awake, my heart pounding and my body on fire, the damp sheets tangled around my legs.
Blinking in the dimly lit room, I take a moment to orient myself.
It was just a dream. A vivid, hot as hell dream. And not the first one I’ve had about my new roommates.
I run my hand over my slick thighs, still tingling with the residual phantom sensation of Killian’s touch.
“Shit,” I mutter beneath my breath, burying my flushed face into my pillow. Of all the times for my subconscious to be distracted like this. I should be visualizing my moves on the field, not straddling my roommate’s giant dream cock.
Giving Jonah a quick snuggle, I roll out of bed, grab my duffel bag, and head for the shower in an attempt to wash away the memory of the scorching hot dream.
As I stand under the cool spray, however, I can’t help but replay the scene in my mind. Killian’s eyes dark with desire, his hands on my hips, guiding me.
“Focus, Dylan,” I scold myself, lathering up with body wash. “I’m here for rugby, nothing else.” But even as I say it, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if it had been real, if Killian and I...
Forcing the thought away, I step out of the shower, dress, and head toward the kitchen.
I need a strong cup of coffee, some banter with my new teammates at practice, and to stop thinking about my very off-limits, very gorgeous roommates.
Chapter 10
Dylan
Thecrispmorningairinvigorates me as I hit the streets, adrenaline pumping through my veins as I push myself to outrun my lust-addled mind.
If my old team’s administration could see me now, they’d be eating their own shorts. “Oh, she’s too distracted, short, tall, fat, thin, smart, stupid to be any good,” they used to sneer. Always some reason why I wasn’t good enough. And after I stood up for one of my teammates who was being harassed by a member of the management team? I basically kissed any chance of being in the starting lineup goodbye.
Well, I’ll show them. The call from this club couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ll work my ass off here and earn that starting position, respect, and maybe even help the team to earn a Victory Cup title.
As I round the corner, I nearly collide with a naked muscular god, who’s out for a run as well. I take in his rippling, tanned body and his tattoos, and gradually I realize they look familiar.
Fuck, it’s Noah, looking hotter than ever, clad only in a pair of gray shorts and running shoes.
“Sorry!” we both exclaim, my cheeks flaring redder than the rising sun that gleams off his glistening skin.
“No worries, Dylan,” he smiles, his abs rippling in the morning light as if they’re taunting me. “Fancy a run together?”
I hesitate, but he’s my roommate, and he’s asking me for a run, not a one-night stand. “Sure, why not?”
As we jog side by side, our breaths synced, I silently curse my stupid hormones for making me notice how his biceps flex with every stride.
I clear my throat, channeling my inner coach for some much-needed seriousness. “So, Noah, any tips for fitting in with the team or the club in general?”
He smirks, “Well, Dylan,” he drawls, “if you want to fit in, you gotta loosen up.” I nearly trip over my own two feet. “I meant on defense,” he clarifies, saving me from further mortification.
“You—you’ve seen me play?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “I got curious and checked some of your games out on YouTube when I was having trouble sleeping. You’re good, and I can see why you’re on the team. But you’re too rigid. You need to be more fluid.”