The Game Changer

by Lana Ferguson

“You’ve been too worried about everyone else. I just always worried that you weren’t as okay as you let on.” My mouth parts as her words trigger a memory, remembering Lila saying something very similar the other night.

“Still. Tonight…” She smiles softly. “You seemed more like yourself tonight. The you I remember. You just seem…brighter. Around her.”

I’m constantly juggling seem less important—and I wonder if it’s normal to feel this way for someone so quickly, or if our history has somehow paved the way for these feelings. If the protectiveness and the friendship I’ve felt for her all these years were only holding the door for something more. If it was inevitable that I would wind up here.

I’m a little suspicious of that, if I’m being honest, but seeing how happy she is, how genuinely okay she is with being here, with all of this—my past and my present colliding to make what is hopefully a better future—has that same tightness setting off in my chest. The one that feels both wonderful and terrifying all at once.

Tension uncoils in my belly. I have to grip the steering wheel just to keep myself from slamming on the brakes and launching myself into her seat so I can cover her mouth with mine. I mean, I’ve always known that Lila was too good for this world, but I’m starting to wonder if she’s too good for me as well.

“You don’t,” I answer, “have anything to worry about.” I can’t help the strangled laugh that escapes me. “God, Lila. You keep being so fucking perfect, and you’re going to have to pry me off of you with a goddamned crowbar if you decide to get rid of me.”

“You can’t say shit like that to me when you’re still wearing that dress, and I can’t do anything about it.” Her hand slides further up my thigh, her smile turning coy. “Who says you can’t do anything about it?” “Lila.”

She squeezes me, and I suck in a ragged breath. “I trust you. Just keep your eyes on the road.” “You really expect me to be able to keep my eyes on the road when you’re undoing my fucking zipper?” “Mhm.” And she means it, apparently, since she’s working the panels of my fly apart, slipping her fingers under the waistband of my boxer briefs.

“I want to play, and you have to drive.” “What if I want to touch you?” “Later,” she murmurs. “This is about you right now.” I don’t know why that one sentence gets me so unreasonably hot—but the low rasp of her voice telling me that this is about me as she pulls my cock out has me visibly tense and noticeably sweating.

“Eyes on the road, Ian.” “Fuck,” I hiss. “You know when I get you back to your place you’re going to get it, right?” “Oh, I’m counting on it,” she practically purrs, the wet warmth of her hand circling around my cock again. “But first.”

“You put your mouth on my cock right now, I can’t guarantee I won’t haul you into the back seat, and we don’t have time for that. Not here.” I curl my fingers tighter around her fist, squeezing my cock through her grip. “But I can pretend.” I drag her hand in a slow upstroke, my abdomen tensing with the sensation. “Make it wet, sweet girl.”

“When I get you home,” I grate as she shuttles her fist up and down my cock again and again and again. “I’m going to peel that fucking dress off you.” My jaw goes slack for a moment when she leans over and spits on me again—a wet, sloppy sound ringing in the small space of the car as she strokes my cock. “And I’m going to fuck you until you forget your name.”

“I want that.” “You’ll get it. I’m gonna come in your hand this time, but later it’ll be in that hot little pussy of yours.” “Are you close?” “Mhm. Keep twisting like that. Mm. There you go. Just like that. Good girl. Sweet fucking girl. Fuck. Fuck. Right—Keep—Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

I snort, leaning over the console and wrapping my fingers around her neck to pull her in so that I can bring her mouth to mine. I take one long, bruising kiss, nipping at her lower lip for good measure before pulling back. “I meant what I said, brat,” I tell her. “It’s my turn when we get back.”

I bite my lip to hold back my grin as I stare at the text; I might still be struggling to get used to it, but I sure as hell enjoy the easy flirtation that we’ve fallen into. Teen me is practically dancing around her bedroom to Katy Perry circa 2012.

Gia studies me for a moment, sympathy shining in her eyes. I kind of hate it. I hate that everyone thinks Ian is the type of person who would hurt me. I want to shout it from the rooftop how great he is, but I know I can’t do that while he’s still keeping secrets to protect his sister.

He clears his throat. “I convinced him to go. Told him I wanted to be alone for a bit.” “Do you want to be alone?” He immediately shakes his head. “Not from you.”

“I fucking hate it. Even more than seeing them talk about me. They’re acting like you’re naive for even starting something with me to begin with, given my history. They don’t even know for sure that anything is going on between us, and now they’re judging you for the relationship you might be having with me? It’s so fucked up, Lila.”

“I know it is, but it’s not your fault. It’s really not.” “It feels like it is. Sometimes. I mean, it feels like everything I touch ends up tainted somehow. I can’t seem to turn my fucking head without disappointing someone.”

“I guess I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t feel real sometimes.” “It’s real,” I urge. “At least to me. Is it real to you?” “Of course it is,” he says without any hesitation. “Lila, being with you…” He shakes his head. “It’s fucking real.”

“But if nothing else, it’s taught me when something is worth holding on to.” I tighten my hold on him as if to prove my point, leaning in to let his lips brush against mine. “You’re worth holding on to, Ian.” “So are you,” he says shakily, his lashes fluttering when I let my mouth move against his.

I keep my kisses light even as a smile touches my lips, shifting so I can crawl into his lap, straddling it as I wind my arms around his neck. “Then hold on to me.” “You really want to do this?” His hands settle at my hips, squeezing gently. “With me?” “Ian.”

He shakes his head. “Right. Dream come true. I forgot. You’re obsessed with me.” “Shut up,” I laugh, pinching his side until he squirms. “Like you aren’t obsessed with me too.” He’s laughing with me, even when one of his hands cups the back of my head, the other reaching to tilt my chin up with his fingers...

“Really?” I wish my voice didn’t sound so unsure; I hate sounding so needy with him, but I can’t help it. Ian wanting me like this…It’s everything. “Really,” he murmurs, his lips feathering against mine. “I’m days away from doodling your n...

“Middle-aged,” I laugh instead. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I still think you’re hot”—I lick at his lower lip, humming in my chest—“for an old man.” Ian growls, and suddenly I’m underneath him on the couch. “I’ll show you ‘old man.’ ”

I can’t help the way I glance over at her. I’ve found my gaze straying to the stands several times during practice; at least two of the times Coach yelled at me were because I was too busy watching her as surreptitiously as I could—almost like my eyes gravitate toward her without my permission. Her hair is flowing over her shoulders in a cascade of soft waves today, and I know from experience how silky it is when I tangle my fingers in it.

Her sweater looks soft too—pastel pink with little hearts patterned all over in a slightly darker hue—hugging every swell and curve in a tantalizing way that makes it almost impossible to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing.

I smirk as I roll my hips, catching sight of her mouth parting even from this distance. I know she’s thinking about last night, how I had her under me in a position similar to this in my bed, and I can’t pretend I’m not remembering it too.

I thought things would be more difficult when faced with our first hurdle with the disastrous photo and accompanying internet mob over the photos of Mei and me, but I should have known better than to doubt Lila.

She’s proven to be far more than I deserve at every turn, after all. Her reassurances made me feel that same comforting sensation of being settled that I’ve begun to associate with her, and I’m starting to realize ...

“Your groin is important,” she deadpans, and I can tell by her expression that it’s taking everything she has not to crack up. “I can’t believe you just said that with a straight face.” “Groin injuries are super common,” Jack says with a furrowed brow. “Half the shit you do out there involves your groin.”

“See you soon, Cupcake.” I force myself not to stare as she walks away, knowing that the jeans she has on will be hugging her perfect ass in a way that will have me wanting to crawl over the railing and trail after her like a cartoon hound dog, keeping my eyes on Jack instead, where it’s safe.

I shake my head, turning back toward the way Lila left and wondering where she got off to. We were supposed to meet up after practice, so it’s throwing me that she suddenly “has a meeting.” Jesus. I give my own thoughts a mental eye roll. I might as well just get myself a collar with her name on it, for as whipped as I am.

LILA: Come to the last shower stall when you see this. Hurry. The fuck? I lean back to peer down the line of showers, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Is she…? There’s no fucking way.

A hand shoots out from behind the first curtain that sections off the cramped changing area before the second curtain of the actual shower, and suddenly I’m being pulled into the already-small space, crowded against a soft body attached to a devilish smirk and sparkling brown eyes that look up at me with mischief.

“What are you doing?” I hiss. She runs a finger down my sternum, weaving the tip between freckles there. “Being bad.” “You know there’s like six other guys out there, right?”

“Mhm.” Her fingers toy with the edge of my compression shorts, the material hiding practically nothing with the way my dick starts to harden underneath them. “You’ll have to be very quiet.” I can literally hear some of the guys laughing only a stall or so away as showerheads start to turn on, and I’ve never done anything so reckless, but the thought of it alone has me hot all over. I pus...

“I can be quiet. Can you?” “Mm.” She pulls out my cock, giving it one slow stroke from root to tip. “My mouth...

Lila is shaking with silent laughter, and I smirk as I pull her into me, letting my stiff length slide against her increasingly wet body as I toss back, “I’m good.” I bend to capture her mouth, slipping my tongue past her lips as her hands glide over the hard planes of my chest and up over my shoulders. My fingers dig into the wet flesh of her hips, pulling her as close as she can be as I kiss her senseless.

It’s something we haven’t done yet, mostly because anytime I’m able to get her naked I’m too impatient to be inside her to even entertain the idea, but seeing her like this now…I’m wondering if maybe it’s because some part of my mind wasn’t sure I’d survive the experience. An assumption that is given more weight when my knees threaten to buckle the second her little pink tongue licks along the head of my cock.

I have to bite my lip to hold back the groan that threatens to escape when she closes her lips over my crown, swirling her tongue around and around while her lashes flutter closed. I force my eyes to stay open even when they want to droop, not wanting to miss one second of Lila’s gorgeous mouth sliding over my length. I can feel the flat of her tongue cradling the bottom of my shaft as she takes me deeper, and watching my inches disappear between her lips has my stomach clenching with want and my balls drawing up tight as if I’m already in danger of coming right down her throat.

Her wrist flicks so that she squeezes just beneath my glans as her tongue licks over the sensitive slit at the head, and my fingers slide over her temples as if they have a mind of their own, my hands settling to palm her head without really realizing that I’m doing it. Lila makes a soft hum in the back of her throat as she pushes back down my cock, her nails of the hand that isn’t on my cock digging into my thigh and her fist working in tandem with her mouth as she manages a nod as if to let me know that it’s okay.

Fuck. My brain has no higher function right now. I’m pretty sure Lila is seconds away from sucking it right out of my dick. I’m definitely not equipped for actual conversation.

I let Lila go, her lips puffy and her eyes red as she pops off for a second to catch her breath. Even with how wrecked she looks she offers a lazy grin, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Brat, I mouth. She flicks out her tongue, tracing it back and forth across my cockhead before giving it a teasing kiss.

My head tips back when she finds a rhythm; the slow, slick slide of her lips and tongue working me over becomes a steady back-and-forth that my hips chase with aborted little thrusts as my mouth falls slack with pleasure. My fingers tighten in the wet strands of her hair, gripping it in my fist as I give her a tentative thrust that pushes deeper, pushes just a little harder.

I watch her pull back just to bring a finger to her lips to bid me to stay quiet, my brow furrowing with question only for her to immediately show me exactly why she had to warn me in the first place when she cups her breasts and leans in close to let my cock slide between them.

I breathe in harshly through my nostrils, the noise seeming to echo in the shower stall as loudly as the pounding of my heart, and I actually have to clap a hand back over my mouth just to keep the sounds from escaping when she leans over and pulls the head of my dick into her mouth while the rest is enveloped in the soft, wet tunnel of her perfect tits. I watch with what have to be crazed eyes as she presses the slick mounds tight so that I can feel every inch of her as she works them up and down, her mouth following the rhythm they set as she takes every inch not encased in her as deep as she can.

I want to watch every second; I don’t want to miss a single moment of what’s happening, given that it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced, but I physically can’t hold my eyes open as she starts to move faster, as she sucks me harder. My hands scrabble to grip the edge of the shower bench to keep me from sliding off—som...

My eyes flutter open as my teeth press against my lower lip, watching my cock slip between her breasts just to disappear into her mouth again and again and again. My heels slip against the tile at my feet, shifting restlessly as I gulp down labored breaths, and I think my eyes actually cross when she pushes me deep again, the head of my cock nearly in her throat—and that’s all it takes to push me over the edge.

I bring my fist to my mouth, biting at the fleshy part below my thumb to stifle the moans that are burbling in my throat, my cock pulsing against Lila’s tongue and flooding her mouth, her throat, pouring straight into her fucking stomach as she takes everything I have. She’s still sucking me, but it’s languid now, almost sweet—her tongue petting the throbbing skin to work me through an orgasm that has me seeing stars.