Love in Indiana (American Boyfriend Book 4) Read online

  American Boyfriend

  Love in Indiana

  Chance Carter

  Contents

  Indiana

  Personal Invitation

  Also by Chance Carter

  Indiana

  I press you tight against the book shelves, my rock hard pelvis pinning you in place. I have you locked in front of me, right where I want you, and there’s no escape. You’re the one who led me down here, now I’m going to show you just what you’re in for.

  “You know I can’t resist you in those blue and gold’s, honey,” I whisper into your ear.

  You’ve always looked so adorable in my colors. I get a boner from your loyalty.

  “Why else do you think I texted you from the library this late at night? I always start having dirty thoughts down here in the archives.”

  “You naughty girl.”

  “Oh, you love it, Tony.”

  “Damn right I do.”

  I keep you trapped in place, it’s easy when I’m so big and you’re so small. I kiss your neck in the spot just below your ear. It makes you wild.

  Cheerleaders.

  When you do your flips in the air and I see your panties for that quick second, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing you only do it at half-time. Otherwise I’d never catch a ball. We’d be last in the league.

  You keep my morale high all season long, if you know what I mean. My morale is pretty high right now, too! So high it’s poking into you.

  My hand moves up your thigh and into your short, little skirt.

  No panties. Girl, you drive me nuts.

  “Someone left part of her uniform in her locker,” I say as my hand caresses the naked skin between your legs.

  “Every second counts when you’re out on the field. Isn’t that what you boys are always saying, Tony Jackson?”

  I slide my finger over the lips of your pussy, making sure you’re wet for me.

  Who am I kidding? Of course you are.

  I push it deep inside your wet pussy and you flinch to get away but you’re pinned there.

  “Easy, girl. I’m going to make you mine. Right here and now between these dusty old books. Unless you want me to stop. Do you want me to stop?”

  You shake your head. “Make me yours, Tony.”

  “What did you say, sweet girl?”

  “I said, I want you to make me yours. Take my body and do what you want with it. I’m yours. All yours. I always have been.”

  “I hope you mean it, because when I’m done with you, you’re going to be begging for mercy.”

  You give me a mischievous shrug, like you don’t have a worry in the world about what I’m about to do to you. I grin.

  I grab both your wrists and throw them above your head, holding them tight together with one of my strong hands. I grab the top of your shirt in a fist with my other hand. I pull you closer, kissing you intensely.

  Kiss me harder, Tony. Something told me you’d want to be kissed harder. You’re the type of girl who can never get enough kisses.

  You bite my lip.

  I twist your shirt even harder and you let out a delicate “ooh” as we both hear it tear under my strength.

  “You think the school will make me pay for that?” you giggle.

  “I’ll tell them it was my fault,” I say with a wink. “They don’t let me pay for anything around here.”

  I tug harder, ripping it even more, exposing your breasts ever so slightly through the fabric. That’s not good enough for me. I need to see more. I pull harder, the fabric now falling off your tits, and I can see that not only did you forget to wear your panties, you forgot your bra too.

  “Naughty, naughty girl,” I say.

  “Oh, Tony,” you moan seductively.

  You keep your voice hushed, careful not to draw attention to us. The library is quiet at this time of night but it’s not totally deserted. Some people actually come to school to learn.

  “Tony, how do you expect me to get out of the library like this?”

  “That’s not our problem now, sweetie. That’s our problem later.”

  You reach down and give my rigid cock a squeeze through my pants.

  “So then, what’s our problem now, mister?”

  “Our problem, darling, is that I can see you’ve been very naughty. No bra and no panties. Tsk tsk. What will I ever do with you? How am I going to punish you for this terrible, terrible behavior?”

  “You can start by kissing me like you mean it.”

  There you go again, begging to be kissed harder. It’s like my kisses are your oxygen. You need them hard, you need them true, and you need them regular, like breathing.

  “Pardon me?” I tease.

  “You heard me. You call what you did to my mouth a kiss? If I didn’t know better I’d swear this was your first time putting your hot, wet lips on a woman.”

  Always with the sass. You really never will learn, will you? You have no idea what’s in store for you.

  Keeping your hands pinned above your head, I grab your breast, twisting your nipple softly between my fingers. You moan and I crush my lips onto yours, kissing you more deeply and passionately than I’ve ever kissed anyone before.

  You lean your head so far back that books fall to the ground from the shelf behind you. You smile. I twist your nipple a little harder while I nibble down on your lip and it’s a good thing my pelvis is still pressed so hard against yours. I feel your knees give out, and know you’d have collapsed if I wasn’t holding you up.

  I release my grip on one of your wrists and your arm falls in front of you. Instinct kicks in. Right away you begin unbuttoning the top of my pants, twisting your fingers around the buttons as you unhook them expertly. I love it. You know exactly what to do. I can tell that usually you love being told what to do, but sometimes words just aren’t needed.

  You try to slip your hand further into my pants but I’m still pressed up hard against you and I’m not letting you in that easy, you naughty girl.

  You still try to get access to my rock hard shaft, tugging away at my jeans with what force you can, but I start slipping my free hand back up into your skirt.

  “Whatever happened to ladies first?” you protest. “Some gentleman you are.”

  “Trust me, honey,” I say, smiling wickedly. “I do believe in ladies first.”

  I snap your hand off my jeans, grabbing your wrist and taking control once more.

  “Tell me,” I say, “are you wet?”

  “I’m dripping, baby.”

  “You want me? You want my shaft in that sweet, sweet pussy of yours?”

  “I want you so bad.”

  “Then say my name.”

  “I want you so bad, Tony Jackson.”

  “We’ll go all the way, right baby?” I say.

  You nod your head uncertainly, wondering where I’m going with this.

  I lick your lips, running my tongue over your bottom lip like it’s your pussy and I’m teasing your clit. You moan into my mouth as I take your hand and bring it under your skirt with mine.

  You gasp.

  My hand guides yours over the delicate folds of your clit. Together, we’re both caressing and feeling every bit of you. I slide my finger over the lips of your pussy, then, taking your finger, I slide both yours and mine inside you at the same time. I lead your finger all the way in.

  Fuck, that’s so hot. I feel my cock throbbing with desire, ready to cum.

  “Do you feel that?” I gasp.

  “Yeah,” you moan softly, so overcome by sensation your legs are quivering.

  I move our fingers in and out of your pussy together. They glide so easily. The thrusts
become stronger and more intense each time. You breathe more and more heavily.

  I put my lips on yours as our hands continue to work together, fucking you, curling inside you, coaxing you to the edge of orgasm.

  “What do you feel?” I say.

  “Wet.”

  “What else?”

  “Good. So good, Tony.”

  I keep our hands wound tightly together, rocking them back and forth in your pussy, making sure to hit all the sweet spots over and over again. You’re having trouble standing again, you naughty girl.

  I’m holding all of your weight. Without me you’d be writhing on the floor in ecstasy.

  “You want to cum, baby, don’t you?”

  “Tony,” you gasp.

  “Cum for me, baby. Cum now.”

  When it’s game time and we’re out on the field, you play the part of innocent cheerleader so well. Your long hair tied back tightly with bows and ribbons, bouncing in unison with your tits and ass as you jump around the field. A sweet, beautiful smile on your sweet, beautiful face.

  You wink at all the boys.

  It’s your job to get everyone excited and damn, you’re good at your job, honey. It takes a lot of effort for me to stay focused on the game like I do. I have to act like I don’t see you sitting there on the sidelines, watching me, giggling with your girlfriends.

  You talk and laugh with the girls and then you look over at me and part your legs, ever so slightly. You think I don’t notice, but I always do.

  I can’t resist you and you know it.

  I also happen to know you’re the naughtiest girl on that field. You might wear your panties when it’s time to cheer, but I can’t say I was surprised you showed up bare tonight.

  I have to say, I was delighted when I got your text.

  Delighted.

  That’s not a word a footballer like me uses lightly.

  I first saw you at a mixer for the team a few months ago. There we were, players and cheerleaders, circling each other like two packs of wolves before a fight.

  I noticed you right away, as soon as I walked into the room. I’ll never forget it. I even remember exactly what you were wearing, a little blue skirt, cut like the ones you wear with your uniform, and a black t-shirt with a scoop neck, I think they call it.

  Perfect choice, honey.

  It dipped down just enough to give a peek at your breasts but not so deep that you were putting on a show. Sweet and sexy, naughty and nice. I could tell right then you were the perfect mix.

  You caught me staring at you and gave me a knowing look, flipping your gorgeous hair off your shoulder and then turning away from me and back to your friends.

  You tease.

  I never told you this, but you were the most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life. From one look, I could tell right away you were the girl I would fall in love with, you were the one meant for me.

  The way you were sitting there that night, I’ll always remember how you looked and how you made me feel, the naughty look you gave me, the teasing twinkle in your eye.

  But I didn’t act on it.

  It’s my first year with the team, my first time wearing the blue and gold. I was nervous enough as it was. I wasn’t ready to start hitting on the hottest girl I’d ever seen. I had enough to worry about.

  I hate that I didn’t talk to you that night, I just laughed and drank beer with the guys. I didn’t talk to any other girls either. I made pleasantries and said hello, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind.

  I got worse after that. I really had to focus on the team and my studies. I needed to keep my grades up to stay on the team. It was important to me and to my family. I’m a legacy. My dad and all his brothers played for the team. I have to make them proud.

  I’m the only son my father had. He passed away just before my senior year of high school. I never got to tell him what college I was accepted to, or even that I applied here. I believe, though, that he’s watching over me now, that he knows everything I’m doing.

  That’s what my mom tells me. She says dad’s watching over me, guiding me, and that he’s proud of the man I’ve become.

  I swear, sometimes when I play ball, I feel his spirit lifting me and guiding me down the field. Even though he’s gone, I know I wouldn’t be where I am today without him. I pray to him and thank him every day for the gifts he’s given me.

  So, as badly as I wanted to focus my attention on you, I didn’t have time to focus on girls, relationships, and sex. I had to focus on books, football practice, and making my family proud. You and I were at all the same parties, but I never once spoke to you. Even though I wanted to with all my heart, I couldn’t distract myself.

  Avoiding you never worked, though. Not for a second. You were always on my mind and my grades started to slip as a result. All I could think about was you and how badly I wanted you. I wanted you to be mine. I wanted you to wear my number. I wanted you to be my girl. During games, I’d see you on the sidelines, watching me. And I was sure you had a thing for me too.

  When you know something’s right, how can you go on with your life and ignore it? How can you deny your heart the one thing it craves? You and I were meant to be, and every day that passed, I knew it more and more.

  Before we ever spoke, my heart wanted you, it belonged to you, but it also belonged to football. I was torn.

  It broke my heart. I felt like someone I loved had been taken away from me, even though I never actually had you in the first place. It wasn’t the same sort of heartbreak I felt when I lost my dad. This was different, but in a way it was worse. It was worse because I knew there was something I could do about it. There was something I had to do about it, but I was so firmly on my track I didn’t dare.

  Time passed.

  My grades suffered and so did my strength on the field. How could I be expected to give my full heart to the team when it felt like my heart wasn’t complete?

  So there I was, sitting on my bed, listening to music, and I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize.

  It was a heart.

  I figured it was a prank from one of the guys on the team so I ignored it.

  Then I got another text.

  A question mark.

  I ignored that too.

  Then I got, “Hey number six.”

  Man, those guys were persistent and I just wasn’t in the mood.

  Then, “What’s a girl gotta do to get a little attention??”

  If this was the guys, it was just getting mean.

  The next text was a photo attachment, and that single text changed my entire life, my entire world.

  Reluctantly I opened it, expecting it to be a dick-pic from one of the guys. But it was a photo of you, looking so sweet, holding a piece of paper that said, “Hello...?”

  Call me an idiot, but I still suspected it was the guys. Maybe they’d put you up to it. There are a lot of pranks on our team.

  So I finally texted back, “Not cool guys. Grow a pair and go get a girlfriend or something. Fuck.”

  I watched the little dots bounce for a while on the message screen. Then I flipped my phone over so I couldn’t see it anymore. I’d had enough.

  I was about to doze off when I felt the phone vibrate. It jolted me awake.

  Another text.

  Ugh.

  I flipped my phone back over but then there was another vibration. And another. And another.

  Fuck off.

  I sat up, ready to get mad, when I saw the texts.

  “You mean a pair like these?

  I hope you like them.”

  There was another photo attachment. I looked at the little envelope. Was this real?

  If I opened this attachment and it was some guy’s balls ... I swear to God.

  I clicked the download button, and it was you.

  I hadn’t seen it clearly in the first picture, but you were wearing that same black t-shirt you’d been wearing the first time I saw you.

  In this photo you were bent over
a little, just enough that I could see right down your sexy cleavage. Your pair was a pair of perfectly formed, perfectly sexy breasts.

  The image popped into my head of my long, hard cock sliding between that cleavage and cumming all over them!

  I wondered if you were wearing that shirt on purpose.

  Had you been thinking about me since that night too?

  I don’t know why some girls think they gotta put it all out there to get a guy’s attention. That’s why I loved this picture of you. It was a normal picture, just a little naughty, but it got me rock hard for you in one second.

  You are gorgeous, honey. And I love everything about you.

  I replied back.

  “I really like you.”

  Shit. Autocorrect.

  “I mean, you look nice.”

  “Fuck, sorry. That was awkward.”

  The three little dots bounced at the bottom of the screen. Was this over before it began? This is why I never open my mouth.

  “No, it was cute.”

  “Cute, great. That’s what I’m going for.”

  “Lol.”

  “So, how did you get my number?”

  “I asked one of the guys for it. I’ve been waiting way too long for you to make a move, hot shot. I had to take matters into my own hands.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  “Oh really? Is that so?”

  Let’s just say things got pretty hot from there, and took a turn for the naughty. It was wild. We never spoke before that day, but already we were so comfortable with each other, completely able to express ourselves, holding nothing back.

  We texted from that moment on, pretty much without a break, until the next evening when you sent that one super naughty text message.

  “It’s time for me to go study, Tony. I have to go deep into the archives of the library to find what I need. I like going when it’s dark out, the library gets quiet and there’s no one around. The book I’m looking for is in row six. Funny coincidence, isn’t that?”

  “Destiny,” I wrote.

  “Talk to you later, Tony Jackson.”

  So, here we are in row six and you’re just about to cum. I’m replaying all of the last six months in my head, from the first second I saw you until the moment you sent that text just a few minutes ago.