Hail Mary (BSU Football Book 2)

my pace determined to wipe that look off her face. I kiss her throat, pull the tender skin between my lips and suck. Hard.
Her thighs quake and the soft sounds falling from her lips spur me on until I’m lost to my need for release. I close my eyes, bite down, and send her soaring over the edge. My mind scatters, my heart pounds and I follow right after her with a primal growl against her throat.
Seconds pass as I catch my breath and wait for awareness to return. I pull myself off her, toss the condom in the trash, and tuck myself back into my sweatpants. She looks like an erotic painting, sprawled out on my bed with her open shirt, rumpled skirt, and the angry red mark I left behind on her neck.
She sits up, pulls off her blindfold and meets my eyes boldly. “Even better than I thought it would be.”
“Happy to be of service,” I say through clenched teeth. I hate how easily I gave in. I hate myself for not being able to resist her. Lucky for me, self-hatred is something I’ve spent my life perfecting. “Anything else I can do for you, Miss Brawley?”
She fixes her shirt, buttoning up to the top and covering my mark. I have an unreasonable desire to rip her collar open.
She ties the black scarf around her neck and straightens her skirt. “Yes, Mr. Web.” She smooths her hair, easily putting herself back together as if she’d never been dirtied by me. “We’re just getting started.” She slips on her shoes and moves toward the door, stopping at my shoulder, she looks up at me with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “We’re not so different, you know.”
“How would you know?” I look her up and down making sure she sees disgust on my face rather than the awe-struck attraction I can’t seem to fight. “You don’t even know me.”
“I see it in your eyes, Theodore.”
“Oh yeah, and what do you think you see?”
“The same thing you see when you look in mine. Nothing.” She walks out of my room without another word, and there’s one thing I know without a doubt.
This isn’t the last I’ll see of Emery Brawley.

Chapter Nine


Emery
“Where were you last night?” My dad’s accusatory tone stiffens my muscles. Of course he would ask while we’re stuck in the car together and I can’t walk away.
Bored, I loll my head to the side and take in his tight jaw and tense brow. “Now you’re the overprotective dad, huh?” I smile. “Too little too late.”
If he were a cartoon I’d see steam billowing from his ears. “While you live under my roof—”
“Kick me out then.”
His jaw slams shut.
“That’s what I thought.” I stare ahead at the BSU campus in the distance and contemplate the pros and cons of throwing my body from a moving vehicle to walk the rest of the way.
“I worry about you—”
“Ha. That’s funny.”
“Emery, I’m really trying here.” At a stoplight he takes the opportunity to look at me. “I admit I’ve made mistakes but I’m trying to make up for—”
“You can’t.” I lost both my parents when I was nine years old. Neither of them can be brought back to life. “You’re wasting your energy, trust me.”
“You really don’t want a relationship with me?” The light turns green and his eyes move back to the road.
I know my answer is going to hurt him, and for the first time I feel a little sorry about that. But I’ve never lied to spare a person’s feelings in my entire life and I won’t start now. “No. I know that’s not what you were hoping to hear but it’s the truth. I’m grateful you’ve given me somewhere to live, but you’re nothing more than a roommate, and frankly, you’re a roommate I’m not especially fond of.”
He cringes. “I assumed when you asked to come live with me and go to college at BSU you wanted—”
“You assumed wrong. I ran out of money, needed a place to stay and with your free college tuition I can get a degree, fulfill the demands of mom’s will, and claim the rest of the money. After that, you’ll never see me again.”
“This doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“How would you know?”
He clears his throat. “I’m just saying, you’re staying out all night and you’re easily angered, maybe you might want to consider going back on the meds.”
I stare blankly ahead and my hand slides to the door handle as I consider throwing myself from the truck. “You haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.’
He parks in the athletic department lot and I grab my messenger bag from the floor by my feet. “Just think about it.”
My gaze jerks to his. “No.”
He frowns. “You’re not well,” he says through gritted teeth.
How he thinks after he abandoned me that he can swoop back into my life and start telling me who I can sleep with and make suggestions about how I take care of myself makes me want to come unhinged. So, in response, I smile.
“I’m still your dad—”
“You’re not. Not in any way that counts.”
“I know you want to hurt me.” His eyes, the same blue as my own, are unwavering.
If he only knew how badly, he’d have me committed.
“If you insist on spending nights out, all I ask is…”
Here we go. He’s going to expect I call him and let him know who I’m with and when I’ll be home. Or maybe he’ll ask for the person’s name and telephone number as if I’m a ten-year-old girl who can’t take care of herself?
“Stay away from my football players.”
A renewed anger wells up inside me. As if I’m a cancer that might infect his precious team? I shouldn’t be surprised. He prioritized football over me ten years ago, too.
I push open the car door and hop out of the truck.
“Emery, I’m serious. Stay away from my team.”
A fist tightens around my chest, squeezing painfully. I slam the door behind