Our Secret Moments (Drayton Hills Series)

YOU’D THINK that college football players walk around with a halo around their head and have superhuman strength with the amount of special treatment they get.

I knew that they got flights covered by the school for their away games, but no one told me about the luxury suites, the fully catered meals, on-site spa and free transport to anywhere they need to go in Arizona.

Since we landed, the boys have been training like crazy and I’ve been working on my report and picking out new designs for the Titan’s Daily cover.

Whilst the boys trained with Coach Mackenzie, I spent the day with Olivia, the assistant coach, walking around a small town in Phoenix. It’s weird hanging out with someone who is considered faculty, but is only seven years older than me. She lets me in on all the inside gossip on the boys. She tells me about how she tore her ACL after she graduated from Drayton, which basically ruined all of her dreams of playing the sport she’s been coaching for the last three years.

It was fun hanging out with her. It felt like having an older sister who gossiped with you about boys and let you sneak your parents movies into your room for sleepovers. I’ve never had that kind of figure in my life before. As much as Elle and Nora are like my sisters, their advice usually causes me to freak out more than I need to. Since we’re all the same age, our experience is very limited with things in the wider world.

Since Olivia and I are sharing a hotel room, I get the joy of watching her get ready. As thrilling as the game was earlier, I am preferring this so much more. The boys won, – which was no surprise – so Coach and Olivia are going out to celebrate and the boys are allowed to stay up past their curfew in their suite down the hall.

The second the game was over, Connor tried to pull me into him whilst he was sweaty and gross, but now knowing that he’s showered, I’m desperate to see him. I know the other night didn’t go to plan for either of us. He has a habit of tucking me into bed and weirdly enough, I want that to happen every night. As much as forgetting about our study date sucked, the forehead kiss and the sweet words made up for it.

“So, what are your plans tonight?” Olivia asks, talking to me through the mirror whilst she does her makeup as I sit behind her on one of the beds.

“Nothing at all,” I say, sighing. “I’ll see if I can get a few hundred words down. If not, I’ll probably crash before you get back.”

She shakes her head, pouting. “You should see what the boys are up to. You never know. You could actually have fun.”

I audibly laugh at that. “I saw the videos Wes posted on Snapchat an hour ago. I am not stepping foot into that suite. It’s already a mess and we’ve hardly been here a day.”

Olivia throws her head back. I love that she has a good bond with them. So good that they only call her by her first name. Mostly because her last name is Hardon and she coaches a team full of teenage boys who no doubt would make her life a living hell.

“That’s fair,” she says through a laugh, applying a pink lipgloss which matches perfectly with the pink top she’s wearing. “I shouldn’t be back too late, but it just depends on how drunk Mackenzie gets.”

“Do you guys do this often at away games?” I ask, leaning back on my forearms as she packs away her makeup into her bag on the vanity.

“Not always,” she explains. Her eyes lock with mine in the mirror again. “It’s just nice to get out sometimes and feel pretty. We know the boys can take care of themselves and we’re only here for one night. Might as well make it memorable. This whole experience is for you to make memories as well, Cat.”

I end up taking Olivia’s advice and by the time she’s out the doors of the hotel, I pull out my phone and call Connor. He said that he and the guys don’t usually go out after away games after a fight broke out in Salt Lake once, so I know he can’t be too busy.

“Hey,” I say, holding the phone to my ear as I look through the same three outfits that I packed. All I can hear from his end is loud chattering which is the usual noise I’m greeted to whenever I have to meet the team on campus, so I’m not surprised.

“Can everyone be quiet! Jesus,” Connor exclaims over the phone. After a few seconds, it starts to quieten down. “Hi, baby.”

Oh, fuck.

How does that one word make my stomach dip? I’ve never cared much for words of endearment, but anything coming out of Connor’s mouth sounds so insanely hot that my knees almost go weak.

“Are you okay?” I ask when the team still talks over the phone.

“Yeah, the guys are just being annoying and loud as per usual,” he explains and I can imagine him shaking his head. He has this whole protective dad vibe about him that I happen to find sexy.

“Come to my room,” I say before I change my mind. I’ve got to make memories somehow. I want to be alone with Connor, awake, sober and in my right mind for once. “It’s a lot quieter here and it sounds like you could do with a break.”

“What?” he chokes out and it sounds muffled as if he’s covering the mic. “And do what, Cat?” he whispers.

“You were so desperate to hang out with me the other day, Connie. What’s wrong with right now?” I tease, playing with the hem of my shirt. Of course he has to make this difficult. “I’m bored and Olivia has gone out. I don’t know what else I need to say to convince you.”

I hear him groan slightly as he considers it. He worries too much — much like me — but I know when to break the rules sometimes. I know when to let loose and have a little fun. We’re basically alone in a hotel, the options are limitless and if the smutty romance books have taught me anything, I shouldn’t run out of any ideas.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” he says before ending the call.

Of course Connor does not spend his time reading romance books for fun. Instead, he watches old romantic comedies just because he knows I like them, which means he turns up to my room exactly twenty minutes later in the apron I got him for his birthday and a grocery bag in hand.

“This is not what I had in mind when I invited you over, Connie,” I say, looking him up and down after I’ve closed the door. He just grins at me, his cheeks pink and his brown hair a mess. His apron has ‘Connie’ scrawled across it in red handwriting. “Did you just pack that just in case?”

He steps closer to me, dropping a kiss to my lips. “You never know what can happen in a day, Cat.”

For the next twenty minutes, we organise the ingredients for our cheesecake, which we’re relying on the small fridge we have in the room for them to turn out properly. Even after he’s explained to me his very complicated recipe, I’m still unsure how he’s planning to whisk this without a stand mixer.

He managed to convince me that he’s strong enough as I drooled over his huge arms whisking a tiny bowl of cream.

There’s something insanely hot about a man who bakes. Yes, Connor might be god-awful at it, but it’s his determination and the glow on his cheeks as he works around the tiny kitchen that makes him so fucking sexy.

He bakes, I watch. It’s a good combination.

Once our semi-deformed cheesecake is in the fridge, I push myself up onto the counter wiping down the equipment we used that we are somehow going to have to hide from Olivia before she gets back.

“Can I ask you something?” Connor asks, stepping between my open legs on the counter, his hands running up my thighs under my shorts. I nod in response. “Is my baking actually good?”

I’m instantly reminded of the salty taste of the cupcakes he gave me and the lick of the spoon he fed me five minutes ago that wasn’t any better. I paint my face in the most sympathetic smile I can muster up. “It’s not the best, but you can improve.”

He frowns. “Why did you lie to me last time?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” I admit.

A smirk climbs across his face as he sets his palms on each side of me, caging me in. “Do you care about me, Catherine?” His tone is light, but I avert my eyes away from him, trying my absolute hardest not to smile. When my eyes connect with his again, his face is so serious I almost miss what he says. “Do you want me to take my top off? I can take my pants off too, if you want.”

“What?” I gawk, bursting out laughing. “Why in the world would I want that?”

He shrugs. “Because it’s hot when a guy is wearing an apron and nothing else.”

“Yeah? According to who? The last porno you watched?” I manage to get out around a laugh.

Connor gasps, holding up a hand to his chest. “I’ve never heard such filthy words come out of your mouth. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be starting to think you’re not a good girl after all.”

“I think that phone call a few days ago says very, very differently,” I say, my voice shaking a little as I tug on his apron, pulling him as close to me as I can get him. If he doesn’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to do something very stupid. I haven’t felt like myself for a long time, and Connor has brought that fire in me that I used to have.

“So confident now, aren’t we?” he muses, dropping his head to the side of my face. His hot breath tickles my ear, igniting an explosion inside of me.

“Only for you,” I whisper back.

When I go to kiss him, I don’t kiss him like I have the other times, I go in with a promise. I’m going to make you feel good, is what I’m telling him when I run my hands across his stomach and around to where the apron ties at his back. The second his apron is off, his shirt follows and I’m greeted to the absolute sight of Connor’s broad, sculpted chest that I want to run my hands all over. I want to cover him in oil and…

Oh, fuck.

Is that an eight pack?

“You finished ogling me yet, sweetheart?” he asks, tilting my head up with two fingers under my chin.

“Actually,” I tease, “Not yet.”

I wiggle my chin out of his grasp only to press my lips against the firmness of his chest. He hisses, his hands instantly finding themselves in my hair. I keep kissing across his chest, moving down until I get to the hard ridges of his abs. When I make my way back up, my tongue flat against his skin, drawing a line down the middle of his abs, his eyes roll back.

“Jesus,” he mutters, “You look fucking stunning.”

I kiss along his throat when he leans down to give me access. “And you taste so good. Why the hell do you taste so good?”

He pulls back. “Are you okay? I don’t think I’ve heard you compliment me that much in the space of ten minutes.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, slipping off the counter, kissing him hard as I walk us back to where the couch is in the open living room area of my suite.

When I manage to get him down, I climb into his lap, feeling his erection against my core. I pull back from the kiss, biting on his bottom lip as his hands roam around my lower back. My skin erupts with flames as his determined hands find a home on my body, branding me.

He smiles as he looks up at me, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. His nails dig into my hips, pressing me closer into him as he rests against the couch. “My body fucking aches for you, Catherine. Every part of me.”

I roll myself over his erection on purpose, loving the deep groan I get out of him in response. “Every part of you, huh?” I tease, kissing along his jaw as I slip my hand between our bodies, reaching to where he’s hard and waiting for me. Fuck, he’s huge over his jeans. “What about this part?”

He lets out a low hiss. “Fuck, baby,” he mutters, his head dropping back onto the headrest. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen – Connor Bailey unravelled and out of control for one of the first times in his life because of me. He’s a fucking sight. I stroke him again over his jeans, needing another reaction to know what the hell I’m doing. “You can’t– You can’t do that.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes,” he murmurs. I immediately stop what I’m doing, taking my hand away from jeans, feeling the embarrassment all over my body, but he latches onto my wrist, urging me to lock eyes with him. “No. Fuck… I haven’t done this in a while and I know that if you touch me, I’m going to lose my fucking mind, Cat.”

Is it bad that the way he looks like this is paining him is turning me on? I’ve hardly done anything and he already looks like he could finish just like this. Hell, I probably could if I found the right friction.

“Maybe I want that to happen. Maybe I want to see you unravel,” I murmur, kissing across his jaw again. He nods enthusiastically. I let out a laugh. “You’ve got to tell me you want this, Connor. I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me.”

“Yes, Catherine. Please,” he whines, practically begging. Pleasure rumbles in my belly as I slowly sink to my knees in front of him, undoing his belt as I go down. He helps me work off his jeans and when his erection finally springs free, I gulp. He’s fucking massive. My mouth instantly dries when I spot the pre-cum dripping off the tip of his cock and I give it a timid stroke. “You can take it, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

I blink up at him and all the nervousness that he had two minutes ago has transferred into me. I’ve given blow-jobs before. This shouldn’t be a hard feat. But it’s Connor and I want to make him feel good. I need to make him feel good. He deserves this.

After a few pumps of his shaft, he patiently waits for me to fit him down my throat and allows me to get situated. I might have sucked dick before, but this is something different. Still, Connor’s hand on the back of my neck, helping me ease him down my throat helps me take him to the hilt as my lips stretch over him. My eyes instantly water, but the look on his face and the taste of him makes this feel a million times better.

I let myself get comfortable with the angle first before I started to pump his thick arousal, taking him as deep as I possibly can. When we both settle, his head lolls back and he groans out ‘fuck’ as his hand tightens around my neck. That combined with the way he feels in my mouth is like heaven. My thighs are already aching, slick and wet with need.

I take him out of my mouth for a second, only to circle my tongue around his tip, urging him to look down at me. The picture we’re painting is intensely arousing, just knowing that he’s looking down at me with his face twisted in pleasure as I get him off.

“Catherine,” he mutters, a tortured groan leaving his mouth as I slip him down my throat again making waves flush all across my body. “Fuck. Look at you. You’re doing such a good job, baby.”

His praise only makes me want this more. As his hands tangle in my hair, guiding me to take him deeper and faster, I don’t know what to do with my hands. My clit throbs at the sloppy sounds my mouth is making mixed with his moans. Even with the drool dripping from the side of my mouth, instead of going to wipe it away, my hand slips inside my shorts, needing to give myself some sort of release.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take every inch of me and make sure you come too,” he murmurs, a sexy grin across his face as I continue taking him down my throat as my fingers work over my clit. The second I get too in my head about it, thinking about the what-ifs to oblivion, I realise that all my motions have slowed down. When I find a rhythm grinding my wetness against his leg instead, I moan around his length. “Yeah, just like that.”

I’m going to make a mess of his pants, but he doesn’t seem to care. The satisfied smile on his face is driving me closer and closer to the edge that I move faster against him, trying to keep up with both of my movements. When his hips buck up, his hand around my neck flexing, I know he’s close.

“Fuck, Catherine,” he mutters, “Will you let me come in your mouth, baby? Or do you not like that?”

The way he asks if I’m okay with it makes my head spin. “Yes,” I muffle, “Please.”

I’m practically choking on him, trying my hardest to keep going and moving my hips at the same time, needing us to finish together.

And we do.

Stars burst behind my eyes the same time he comes down my throat, groaning whilst my thighs can no longer keep up and my orgasm soars right through me. His cum spills down my throat and I swallow all of it, loving the salty taste of him. When he takes his cock out of my mouth he tilts my chin up to him and I rise up on my knees as he leans in to me.

He wipes the side of my mouth, slipping the pad of his thumb into my mouth and I taste the last drop of him. “That was fucking insane, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to mine.

“Did you lose your mind like you said you would?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.

“I don’t think I can even think straight,” he whispers, “You’ve ruined me, Cat.”

You’ve ruined me too, I think to myself.

This is way bigger than either of us would have imagined it would be. It’s not just a hallway crush that I’ve had on him for years. It’s a real, tangible, physical and emotional thing that I never want to escape from. I just want to be completely his.

But when I look into his eyes, still on my knees, I can’t help but think about the repercussions of this. The line we’ve crossed. I hate how fucking good it feels.

I don’t know how we end up spending the next twenty minutes fighting over the remote for the flatscreen, but we do and I eventually give up.

Connor is insisting on keep his shirt off, no matter how risky it is for him to be here in the first place, so that has been distracting me.

After mindlessly watching Lilo & Stitch, I finally have my turn to put a good movie on. I thought as I kissed his chest and ran my hands all over him when we sat in front of the screen, that he’d give up on trying to convince me to watch the movie. He ended up tackling me to the ground and tickling me like his life depended on it. Honestly, I don’t mind that much. It reminds me a lot of my childhood, but I enjoy annoying Connor more than any movie.

“Jesus, you’re lucky I like you,” I mutter, feeling as smug as ever as the opening credits to ‘Set It Up,’ play on the screen. It’s finally my turn and despite the low grunt of disapproval he gave me, he’s still holding me close to him, his arm slung around my shoulder.

“What?!”

“Yeah, you’ve clearly got a terrible taste in movies and someone has to educate you on what true cinema is,” I say, gesturing to the screen.

“And that someone is you, right?”

“Yup.”

“Well… What if I don’t like your movie taste,” he says, his fingers running down my arm.

“That’s quite literally impossible,” I say, turning to look up at him. “Sorry to break it to you, Connie, but I’m as good as you’re going to get. Everyone likes what I like and I’m confident enough to admit that.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it’s an absolute fact.”

His eyes narrow, jerking his head back from me to scrutinise me. “Right…”

“Don’t look at me like that!” I swat him on his arm.

“Like what?” he teases, pressing his lips together to hide his smile.

“Like you think I’m crazy,” I say, scooting out of his grip. You’d think after the stellar blow-job I just gave him that he’d be more appreciative of my fantastic taste in movies. I try to move further away on the couch, but my back hits the cushions and he’s over me in seconds, his hands on both sides of my head.

“Lucky for you, you’re my favourite kind of crazy,” he murmurs into the space between us, his hips pressing into mine.

“I didn’t know there were levels to crazy,” I breathe out, trying not to be affected by his weight. He shakes his head.

“Not levels. Categories,” he explains, “Crazy smart.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Crazy talented.” He presses a kiss to my temple before kissing my throat. “Crazy beautiful.”

My face feels like it’s on fire at the sentiment and all I do is whisper, “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

I spend the next twenty minutes showing him how to shut up and by the time he’s out of the room with a raging hard-on, I can’t get rid of the smile that’s plastered on my face. I feel like a champagne bottle — all fizzy and giggly.

That feeling lasts for a while until my brain goes into overdrive.

Having phone-sex with Connor is one thing. Flirting with him and kissing him is another thing. But giving him one of the best blowjobs I’ve ever given is a completely different thing. As much as I enjoyed it, I have no fucking clue how I’m supposed to keep my attraction to him at bay when we go back to Drayton. Nora is not an idiot. She’ll figure it out eventually.

When Olivia comes stumbling into the room after one in the morning and I’m already snuggled up in bed, watching Modern Family reruns, she already looks so out of it I don’t know how she managed to see the cheesecake in the fridge.

Fuck.

The cheesecake.

Connor and I’s cheesecake.

“Catherine?” she whispers. Or, well, I think she thinks she’s whispering, but she’s so drunk she probably can’t even tell. “Did you buy this?”

“Yeah, I went to the store,” I reply, faking a yawn.

She gags. “You should really get a refund. This doesn’t seem right to me.”

Two seconds later, I’m up out of the bed, holding back her hair as she throws up in the mini kitchen sink.

I always said I wanted a sister, right?