Jocking Jameson: Face-Off Legacy #4 Page 6

  Fingering her tight pussy, I continue my slow exploration from her mouth and kiss my way down her chest to suck on her nipples. She bucks against my hand, another scream ripping from her wet, puffy lips.

  I eventually settle between her legs, clutching her thighs in both hands as my tongue makes contact with her clit. She threads her fingers through my hair, her entire body trembling. I love the way she tastes, and the sexy sounds she makes.

  Lapping up her juices, I slip my tongue between her wet folds. She just about chokes me when she squeezes her thighs together as an intense orgasm commands control of her body. The way she moans it’s like she’s possessed, driven to insanity. She’s doing the same to me.

  “Jamie,” Shannon moans one last time as I peek up from between her thighs. She’s still holding my hair in a vise-like grip, slowly letting go.

  I reach into the drawer next to my bed and grab a condom, quickly undressing before I roll it down my length. She stares at my cock, her lips parted and chapped. Extending her hand, she gestures for me to get back in bed with her not satisfied until I’m repositioned above her.

  I lean forward to kiss her neck, teasing her as I make my way to her lips. She arches her hips, her hand gliding down my back to push my cock inside her. She bites down on her bottom lip, closing her eyes with each inch I take, careful not to fill her right away.

  She feels so fucking good I have to concentrate even harder not to come. Taking my time, I ease in and out of her, damn near losing my mind with each thrust. Her body relaxes as I break through her inner walls. She rocks her hips working in a rhythmic motion along with me.

  Shannon sucks in a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with each moan that escapes her lips. She’s beautiful, perfect, and right now she’s mine. Strands of her long, dark hair cover the side of her face, and when her mossy green eyes find mine, there’s a look of ecstasy in them.

  Lifting one of her legs over my shoulder, I pound into her harder, faster. Her body convulses, tightening her grip on my cock. She screams so loud my teammates can probably hear her downstairs, but I couldn’t care less. The only thing I care about right now is making her come again.

  A series of moans pierces my eardrum forcing me to work harder. She lets out one last sigh as her body settles, and it’s not much longer before I lose control. After I collapse on top of her, completely spent, I kiss her one more time before rolling onto the mattress next to her.

  “Damn, Shan… that was…” I can’t even get the words out. Both of us are out of breath, still coming down from our high.

  She curls up next to me and rests her head on my chest. “That was…” she whispers.

  “Yeah,” I say, unable to finish the thought.

  That was exactly what I needed.

  Chapter Eight

  Shannon

  When I open my eyes, the left side of Jamie’s naked, muscular body is covering mine. He smells like sex and his spicy aftershave I love so much. Last night was incredible, possibly the best night of my life. Jamie has a way with his hands, mouth and…

  Head out of the gutter, Shannon.

  Just thinking about Jamie inside me is doing too many things to my body, and I need to focus. Like right now.

  I peel Jamie’s arm from my chest and sneak out from under him until I’m able to slide off the mattress. He rolls over, his eyes still closed, a soft sound creeping from his lips. He’s even more attractive when he’s sleeping as if that were even possible.

  A hint of light creeps through the slit in the curtains. It’s only six o’clock, and I don’t have a class for another two hours. Living off-campus has its disadvantages, the ability to roll out of bed late being one of them. I have to take two buses to get to campus every day. Now, I only have a five-minute walk to Penn Hall. I could get used to this, though I don’t want to get too comfortable.

  For the first time, I get a good look at Jamie’s bedroom. Last night I was too focused on him to notice more than a few laminated pictures. The walls of his bedroom are covered in movie and television posters. Characters from Star Trek, Marvel Comics, and Mage Wars are the most prominent.

  I still can’t believe his dad is the creator of one of the most popular video game universes in the world. The Fallen Universe is Marvel big, and from what I’ve read, a major movie deal is in the works. I knew Jamie was rich, but he’s like the young Tony Stark of Strickland University, and it’s such a turn-on.

  A large, mesh spider web covers half of one wall. Nestled inside it are figurines of characters from Spider-Man. Below the web is a long wooden desk where four computer monitors are flashing different screensavers. Boxes of what appear to be computer equipment are stacked neatly against the wall on the floor next to an executive rolling chair.

  Stepping into Jamie’s bedroom is almost like getting a personal tour through his mind. He has handwritten notes on tablets covering his desk, scattered all over the place. The Queen is written on one of them, the words circled several times in red marker. As I glance at the notes, I spot The Queen several more times. IPs is scrawled at the top of another page and beneath a series of numbers that look like an IP address.

  Is he tracking The Queen, the new gossip blogger who’s haunting the guys on his team? My sorority sisters are obsessed with her app. They devour every single picture and post. Almost everyone on campus has downloaded the Dethroned app, hanging on every word this girl writes.

  By the looks of it, Jamie’s a little obsessed with this girl. She’s probably someone on campus with an ax to grind against the Kane twins. Though, he’s never been mean to me, Tucker’s an asshole. He goes through women faster than he changes socks. So, I wasn’t surprised to see The Queen had ousted him.

  The more I peek at Jamie’s things, I feel like I’m violating his privacy. Realizing my mistake, I step away from his desk and get dressed. Jamie removed my clothes so fast last night, distracting me with all the orgasms he gave me, that I missed tucking Cameron into bed. I’ve missed calls from my parents along with a few texts.

  Shit, I never forget to call home.

  Quickly, I type out a message to my mom that I stayed at the Kappa Delta chapter house. I don’t do it often, though I have spent the night in the past. Not like I can afford to pay the hefty fee to live there.

  Sometimes, I feel like I’m missing out on forming stronger connections with my sisters because of my financial situation. But the reality is, I’m not like them. Money isn’t an issue for most of them. So, I use my brother as an excuse for why I can’t move into the house.

  After I shove the phone into my pocket, I close the door behind me and then head downstairs. No one is awake at this hour. The house is unusually quiet, still a disheveled mess from last night. I would lose my mind if I lived here. The couch cushions are all over the floor in the living room. A pile of unopened mail is spread across the dining room table. Dishes are stacked in the sink and overflowing onto the kitchen counter. I was going to surprise Jamie and make breakfast for him. Maybe I should rethink the idea.

  Unable to work with the mess, I start loading plates and cups into the dishwasher. I let out a sigh of relief as the pile slowly disappears making more room for me to cook. After the kitchen is clean enough, I make a pot of coffee, fill a carafe I doubt they have ever used with orange juice, and begin frying two packages of bacon.

  I hum Mr. Rizzo’s favorite song as I flip pieces of bacon in the frying pan. There’s something about singing and cooking that calms my nerves. As a child, I loved helping my mom on Sunday mornings. My love of food and cooking began years ago. And once I started working at the bakery in high school, I completely fell in love with baking cupcakes and pastries.

  A rustle upstairs, followed by the sound of glass breaking, interrupts my humming. Jamie had mentioned having the day off from practice and that his teammates had planned to sleep in. Two loud voices boom above me. Then, I hear their feet bang against the floor. From the sounds of it, two people are fighting.

  With how lo
ud they are it won’t be long before everyone in the house is awake. Keeping that in mind, I finish up with the bacon leaving it on a plate with paper towels to soak up the grease.

  “Is that bacon I smell?” a deep voice asks from behind me. I turn around to see Drake Donovan approaching me. He peeks over my shoulder at the stove and smiles. “Sweet. I’m starving.”

  “You’re always hungry,” someone says from behind him.

  He’s the starting goaltender for the Strickland Senators, a giant who towers over me. Drake is close to seven feet tall. His large frame blocks the entrance to the kitchen, so I don’t see Tucker at first. Accompanied by his twin, Tucker pulls out a chair at the island.

  Tucker tips his nose in the air and takes a big whiff. “You making eggs?” he asks me.

  “I can… if that’s what you want.”

  “Yeah,” Tucker says. “I like mine scrambled.”

  “Me, too,” says Trent.

  “Don’t make them shit,” another deep voice says. Killian Kade enters the kitchen, shoving a hand through his black hair pushing it off his forehead. “But I’ll take mine over easy.” He winks at me as he takes a seat next to Drake at the island at the center of the room.

  Glancing at the egg mixture on the counter next to me, I chuckle. “I was going to make French toast.”

  “Nice, I’ll have that, too,” Tucker says, and I want to smack him across his adorable face. “Put extra cinnamon on mine.”

  All of these guys are so damn spoiled. They must be used to having someone wait on them hand and foot. Money buys a lot of comforts. Either their moms or their maids must serve them. Judging by the condition of this house, they expect someone to clean up after them. And now cook for them. One dinner was enough, and here I am acting like I’m the help.

  Ignoring all of them, I turn around to face the stove, dipping bread into the mixture to add to the hot griddle. Midway through the first batch, I feel hands on my waist. I’m about to smack them away when I hear Jamie’s voice rumble in my ear. His breath on my earlobe causes me to freeze, chills shooting down my arms.

  “Morning,” he whispers. “I rolled over hoping to go another round before class, and your side of the mattress was cold.”

  My side of the mattress? I try to push down my excitement and fail miserably. The broad grin turning up the corners of my mouth is so wide my cheeks hurt.

  “I thought I would surprise you and bring you breakfast in bed. But your friends came down and ruined it.”

  “Let me guess,” he says. “Drake was down here first.”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  He nods at the plate of crispy bacon. “Because that’s how his mom used to wake him up for school.”

  I chuckle. “With bacon?”

  Jamie smirks. “Uh-huh. He wouldn’t get out of bed in middle school unless he could smell bacon cooking.”

  We both laugh.

  “That’s hilarious.”

  “You think that’s bad?” Jamie checks over his shoulder to see if his friends are behind him before he continues, “Tucker’s mom had to iron all of his shirts for prep school that morning. He’d throw a fit and refuse to go to school if she didn’t.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him. “So, what’s wrong with ironing a shirt?”

  “He’d only go to school if she ironed them that morning and they were still warm when he put them on.”

  “Your friends are such brats.” I snort from laughing so hard. “And what about you? You have a weird story, too?”

  “Are you kidding me? If I as much as complained when I was a kid, my dad would tell me a sob story about his childhood and how he never knew if he’d eat. Then, he’d tell me I should consider myself lucky that I don’t have to walk to school or starve to death.”

  “Sounds like your dad grew up more like me.”

  His expression darkens, his voice lower. “Is it really that bad for you?”

  I shake my head, turning away from him to flip the French toast. “No, not at all. But we don’t have any money. Just enough to get by.”

  “My dad said if he could give all the money back, he would. That’s why he donates so much of it to charity. He feels guilty.”

  “He shouldn’t,” I say. “He works hard for it. Your dad kinda gives me hope. If someone who came from a worse situation than me can build an empire, then I can make my dream happen, too.”

  “My dad will like you,” he says. “He loves people with entrepreneurial minds. Actually, he has an internship program for young entrepreneurs.”

  “For tech, though, right?”

  He nods. “Yeah. He works with coders and teaches them how to become video game developers.”

  “That’s amazing,” I mutter. “Now, I see where you get it from.”

  “He wants me to make a choice,” Jamie confesses. “Between hockey and his company.” He peeks over at his friends who are talking amongst themselves at the kitchen table. “But I haven’t decided.”

  “They don’t know,” I say in a hushed tone. “Do they?”

  “Only Preston does,” he admits. Jamie bites the inside of his cheek, clearly torn between both sides of his life. “It’s complicated.”

  “Sounds like it.” I lift a heavy tray filled with French toast and hand it to Jamie. “You ready to eat?”

  He pats his stomach and then takes the tray with a smile. “I can always eat.”

  After we finish, Jamie orders his friends to clean up the mess and then runs upstairs to grab our bags. I meet him at the front door, holding it open with my back for him to pass through.

  He extends his hand to me, shifting the weight of our backpacks over his right shoulder. “Can I walk you to class?”

  My heart melts from the boyish look on his handsome face. “I’ll allow it,” I joke, slipping my fingers between his.

  He laughs, squeezing my hand as we walk down the street. “Thanks for making breakfast for everyone.”

  “No problem.” I shrug. “I was up early and needed something to do until class starts.”

  “I’m afraid they’ll get used to it and expect you to cook for them every time they see you. None of them can take care of themselves. Well, Preston can…”

  “If I’m cooking for you and there’s enough food for everyone, I don’t mind.”

  “You really don’t have to do that for me,” he says, his tone serious. “I appreciate it, Shan, but I don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”

  “I never do things I don’t want to do.”

  “Okay.” He sighs. “But I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

  I glance over at him and smile. “Me either. I like you, Jamie. I always thought of you as a friend.”

  He cocks his head in my direction, one eyebrow raised. “And now?”

  “Definitely more than a friend. There’s no going back now.”

  Jamie winks.

  We walk the rest of the way to Penn Hall in silence, dodging students crowding the walkways as we pass.

  “Am I going to see you this weekend?” I ask when we stop in front of my building.

  He looks confused at first until it dawns on him. “Oh, right. The dance thing. Yeah, I’ll be there. Is it okay if I bring some of my teammates? I invited a few of them already.”

  “Of course. Invite whoever you want. We need as many votes as we can get to win.”

  Jamie hooks his arm around my back and gives me a one-arm hug, kissing my forehead in the process. “I have a lot going on today and tomorrow with school and hockey, but I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to watch you dance.” A smirk turns up the right side of his mouth. “Especially after getting a preview of your moves last night.”

  “Typical man,” I quip. “Always thinking with the wrong head.”

  He snickers, releasing me from his grasp. “I had fun last night. We should do it again.”

  “Yeah, we should.”

  “I’ll text you later. Okay?”


  I nod. “More than okay.”

  Jamie’s smile mirrors mine, and as I watch him walk away, my heart slams into my chest. So many feelings hit me at once. Going from friends to lovers almost overnight is kind of overwhelming. And the problem with having sex with your friend? You have a lot more to lose if it doesn’t work out.

  Chapter Nine

  Shannon

  I meet Jamie in the parking lot at The Sixth Floor. He’s out front with Preston, Tucker, Drake, and Trent waiting for Bex Bryant and Taylor Bradshaw. I’ve heard of the girls in passing but have yet to meet them. Bex lost a bet to Preston earlier. Her dare was to dance in the competition.

  A few of my sorority sisters ate some bad Chinese food and have been in the bathroom all day, so Bex and Taylor are doing us a huge favor. Abby was having a stroke earlier over our sisters missing the contest. She had everyone in our chapter house panicked. When I told Jamie through text, he offered me a solution.

  “Shannon.” Jamie taps me on the shoulder to catch my attention and then points at two unusually tall girls who are approaching us. One with long blonde hair stands next to Preston, the other of equal height with brown hair at her side. “This is Bex.” Jamie points to the blonde. “And her friend, Taylor. They’re the girls I told you about.”

  “Oh, hey.” I close the distance between us, greeting them with a friendly smile. “You two are such lifesavers.”

  “I don’t know how to dance,” Bex admits.

  “Yes, you do.” Taylor smacks her arm. “Bex is being modest.”

  “Okay, fine.” Bex holds up her hands. “But if we lose, don’t blame me.”

  Taylor moves forward, close to invading my personal space. “So, what do you need us to do?”

  “It’s nothing special. Just have fun. We have a few moves we’re planning to do. But we don’t have to do anything choreographed. Move your hips to the beat and do whatever feels natural to you.”

  “Are we ready to go inside?” Jamie asks me.