A/N: Mature content. 🏃‍♀️🤪🏃‍♀️

The first time with Jake, okay technically first time in nine months, reminded me how I simultaneously loved and hated having sex with him.

I loved the rush of pleasure, how quickly he brought me up and crashed me down in orgasms that left my mind crystal clear and body warmed and fully satisfied.

But I hated that he was the one that made me feel that way, particularly the smug grin on his face afterwards. I hated that cockyass grin almost as much as I hated the tenderness that flashed in his eyes right before I left. He hadn't said anything but after a flash of initial surprise, the 'You're leaving' look was there no matter how quickly I'd left.

I rushed out of the thankfully very empty downstairs floor of his house as quickly as my feet moved. As I left, I mentally counted my blessings that the evening was still early enough that I beat out any of the other walk of shame girls.

What I hadn't avoided was a surprised look from a guy with brown hair and curious brown eyes whose head poked outside the bedroom closest to Jake's. Without a spoken word, he watched me pass just as silently, probably because my feet burned a path on their hallway carpet. Thankfully, one index finger slipped over my lips was enough that he just nodded and turtled his head back into his mancave.

Unlike most of the randoms who shacked up with Jake's housemates, who I assumed were some of girls who tossed up eye daggers at me as I bounded down the steps and passed the living room, I hadn't felt any shame in how I'd had sex with Jake or the abrupt way I left afterwards.

Instead, the possibility Jake was anything more than a scratched itch twisted a knot of anxiety into my stomach. The fact he'd thrown dating for appearances out there so casually, like it was a natural progression, burned discomfort into my stomach.

I buried all those uncomfortable feelings as deep as they went into the back of my mind as I kept my eyes down and hurried back to UCLA. My thoughts however, circled back to the stupid fake-girlfriend shit Jake had tossed out as a dick-condition.

I don't want a relationship. Especially not for appearances and not with him.

Anyone but him.

My chest puffed up with a slow, deep breath in, which I exhaled sharply through pursed lips. Once my fingers clenched around my steering wheel, the view of the house-lined street of me blurred. I blinked back hot tears that sprung up from nowhere, shifted gears, and stomped the accelerator flat down on the interior floor of my car.

While an internal war of my mind raged against my own body, whose level of content felt like a cruel slap in my ego, my phone buzzed within one of my cup holders with what I initially thought was a welcome distraction. Unfortunately, the sound snapped my attention down to the last message I wanted to read at this moment.

dickhead: First date, next Saturday.
dickhead: Dinner with my mom after the game.

"Fucking son of a - wait, Mrs. Harrison doesn't deserve that," I muttered to my steering wheel and dashboard, directed my eyes towards the road ahead, and weaved through Highway-10s traffic like a bad game of Mario Kart.

A twitch throbbed through the pads of my fingers when I rubbed them over my tired eyes. I wasn't averse to dinner with Jake's mom but fuck, that fell under the small category of painting false appearances with someone's opinion that I actually cared about.

Throughout middle school and high school, Mrs. Harrison was practically a de facto mother to me, at least with all the meals she insisted I joined whenever Dad worked late. She'd also sent me home with a few days' worth of leftovers, which Dad had appreciated but I'd always felt like a charity case.

Another tiny wrinkle of potential confusion was how Gianna Harrison had assured me many, many ways of her opinion on my non-charity status, as well as one other, particular subject.

"You're not a charity case Harper, we love having you here."

"Any friend of Ellie's is a friend of the family."

"I've always thought you were good for Jake."

Brain bleach, please scratch that last one from the history records.

While I comfortably spoke with Gianna about nearly any conversation topic, my not-relationship with her golden boy son was dead-on-arrival last on my list of dinner conversation topics because I knew exactly how Mommy Dearest felt on that topic. While most girls would've probably traded both ovaries and their left tit for Mrs. Harrison's nod of approval, I held a slightly different opinion.

If Ellie is the captain of the SS-Titanic-There-Is-No-Jake-and-Harper, then Gianna Harrison is definitely the first mate.

Only saving grace is I'm not having dinner alone with Jake.

Still, the potentially messy kink, and not a good kink, of Mrs. Harrison's nose injected into our arrangement sat uncomfortably in my mind as I veered off Highway-10 and over to Overland Avenue. Among the rows of houses that passed on both sides, a neon flashed 'Psychic Reader of Los Angeles' on my right caught my eyes.

Maybe next time, for shits and giggles.

My stomach clenched tight at the idea, I gnashed my teeth together, and groaned quietly at my self-admitted, 'next time.' While the majority of my body felt contently at peace, practically hummed in fucking content, my mind was stuck in another direction.

Never been so angry at myself.

Okay, now I've never been so angry at myself.

Fucking pathetic, really.

I'd left Jake's house two days earlier, satisfied from him and completely pissed off at myself for how my vagina stooped me back down into the same fucked up situation I'd sworn off of after high school, only to have my ass turned around two days later and waited in the same position for Jake after his practice.

The herd of desperate estrogen sources outside USC's locker room at their practice facility was painfully large and I was well aware of all the beady eyes that shifted in my direction. If I hadn't leaned against the wall like a high-end solicitor then I would've fallen over at the soft hand that patted my shoulder.

"Oh... Hey?" A short, bronze-skinned girl with black hair piled onto a messy bun on the top of her head looked up at me. "I've seen you."

"No, you haven't." I frowned down at the girl because Li and Ellie both sufficiently filled the roles of dark-haired, small, cute, and possibly innocent girls in my life.

"¡Mierda!" she cursed under her Hispanic breath and her ratty bun flopped as she shook her head. "Zach was right."

"Sweetcheeks, I'm not here for any Zach -" I started when her brown eyes narrowed.

"Of course you're not." Thankfully, she dropped her voice a few decibels because we both noticed how nearby eyes still flicked in our direction when she accused me, "But you are here for Jake. I'm Sophia, Zach's girlfriend."

"Is that information supposed to mean something?" My eyebrows lifted as I lamely shook her extended hand.

My grip's tight squeeze on her small hand drew her eyes up to mine. Without a blink, she challenged, "Wow, you're a bitchy one. Just trying to extend some USC-WAG hospitality."

"Listen, I don't know what you've heard -" I started when the last voice I wanted to hear shouted out loudly and deeply in our direction.

"Harper!" Jake bellowed out, then waved one long arm overhead at me. Stupidly dressed in a black tank top and gray sweatpants that I'm sure most of these girls found attractive because he left no doubt to the muscular torso underneath, I frowned as he approached. His dark hair was damp, almost black, and slicked back off his forehead except for a few stray strands.

Narrowed eyes, extended claws, and a few hisses were probably directed at me, particularly when Jake stepped over and smashed his mouth against mine. My head slammed back against the force he used as he thrust himself on me. Darkness flooded my vision as my eyes slid closed on their own and I barely heard Sophia's gasp as one of his large hands cupped behind my neck and his mouth covered, then absolutely ravaged mine.

His tongue squirmed in between my lips, ignited a fire inside me, and for one second, I melted into the kiss. A slight dizzying sensation between my eyes snapped me back to reality and I nipped gently on the tip of his tongue, which he thankfully withdrew.

"Hey," he rushed a warm breath across my lips. The sappy grin he shot at me only earned him two palms shoved into his chest, so that's what he got.

"I'm not meeting you here anymore," I grumbled and stepped over to my car.

Too much fucking show and tell.

Jake's long strides easily kept up with mine and a slight fabric sound from how his bag bounced across his back was the only noise between us. We walked silently, probably because I kept my chin tucked downwards and my feet stomped louder as a sense of irritation flooded through me. I wasn't sure what bothered me so much tiny spots flashed across my vision but -

"Hey." Jake's voice and the warm hand he clamped down on my thigh drew my attention to the fact we now sat in my car. My fingers were curled white-knuckle tight around the steering wheel but we sat in the same spot I'd parked in near the back of the practice field's parking lot.

The softness of his voice contrasted the firm squeeze his hand gave my leg. "You okay?"

"I don't think we should meet outside your practices," I blurted out and turned on my car. "Back there -"

"Back there was my way of proving that I'm not available," he explained in a tone of voice that suggested I should've been pleased with his public display of mouth mauling.

My hands spun my steering wheel and I pulled out of the spot with screeched tires. Jake's head slipped back slightly as I gunned the accelerator and he braced one hand on the passenger's side door frame like an 'oh shit' handle, but he sat silently. I was thankful for the pair of jeans I'd worn today because his other hand squeezed harder into my leg until a patch of warmth formed under his grip.

I drove the entire way to his house in the same silence, which continued after I shut off the car. Without a glance in his direction, I grumbled in a nearly inaudible voice, "Is this a game to you, because I'm not out to prove anything to anyone."

"No," his dry voice hit my right ear. "Football is a game."

"Fuck -" My word got cut off when Jake leaned over and clamped one of his palms, which smelled faintly of worn leather mixed with soap, over my mouth.

"I can tell when something is bothering you." His low voice rumbled in my right ear and waves of heat from his breath washed over my cheek and down my neck. "Fuck it out first, talk second."

I pulled my head back, puffed out my cheeks, and exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if you pull any shit like try to cuddle then I'm kneeing you in the balls."

"Fair enough," he grumbled and slammed the door behind me.

I blinked for a few moments at the slightly uneven sidewalk that stretched parallel to my parked car. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what had crawled up my ass but had been pissed off since the moment I woke up this morning, my bitchiness lingered through my class, where I was pretty sure I growled at EJ, and still reflected in the above-speed limit drive over here right after class ended.

A slight poof of Jake's comforter, oddly puffy and perfectly white, erupted under my lower back as he shoved me down roughly drew my attention to the fact we were in his room more than the click of his locked door. The biting sting of slapped contact, followed by the light crack sound from Jake's palm on my hip and the hissed unzipped sound from my jeans, all jarred my attention.

"Hips up," he demanded in a sharp tone that shot a pulsed beat straight between my legs.

My heels grounded into the fluffy surface under them, I elevated my hips. In one jerked movement of Jake's hands, both my jeans and underwear landed at my knees, then my legs were stripped bare. Warmth replaced fabric as Jake's large, shirtless torso shifted in between. How he'd gotten that way I had no idea but the distinctive crinkle of plastic showed Jake was impatient as I felt.

Part of me is glad we're doing this... the no explanation needed part.

"Ready?" With one shifted hand movement, Jake perched his weight onto his elbows, his broad chest radiated a wall of heat over me. His hips dipped low between mine and, with one slight roll sideways, one of his hands clenched behind my left knee, and, after a quick nod from me, he pressed himself inside me.

My hands balled into fists at my sides, tiny stings erupted in my palms from my dug-in nails, and a small arch formed behind my lower back as Jake's fullness swelled a wave of pressure in my lower belly. Pressure erupted around the area of his fast intrusion that whooshed the air out of my lungs like a wind tunnel.

"Wait." I reached down between us and parted my own folds, because rolled inward, frictioned skin burned like a motherfucker and I wasn't that desperate.

My palms grounded on the sharp, crescent-shaped curve of Jake's hips that preceded the V–shaped pelvis muscles that practically pointed an arrow straight at my vagina. The tips of my fingers wrapped halfway around and squeezed into his sides, not that Jake had any love hands for grip support.

Jake's grip on my left thigh tightened and, with just one deeper thrust into me, my right knee fell open to the side. I lifted it, hooked my ankle around his ass, and tugged him deeper. With absolutely no slow build-up, pleasure quickly replaced the tension and rolled through me with each thrust Jake pounded into me. His movements were hard, almost vicious, as he withdrew to the tip and slammed in down the base. With each forward pump, the skin on his pelvis lightly smacked against mine like a punishment.

After relentless minutes of Jake's best impression of a pile driver, sweat tickled my forehead near my hairline and I clamped my teeth tightly shut. My hands held their tight grip on his hips as I flexed mine against his strokes and clenched my inner muscles in almost laughable, regulated kegels. His skin flamed hot in my palms, his chest shone with his own perspiration, and the near-angry expression he wore from his darkened gaze and mouth wrenched downward showed there was only one way this ended.

His way.

And I fucking loved everything about it.

No, no, not that word Harper.

"Fuck," I outwardly cursed my own thoughts.

My chin dipped into my chest, where I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, and groaned over and over. Each sound that left my mouth and each harder pinch of my fingers into his skin, only encouraged Jake's movements harder and faster. His abdominal muscles flexed and relaxed as he edged me closer to the barrier between pleasure and pain.

Trembles wracked down my spine, electric currents radiated through my pelvis as my inner walls cramped down, and a low cry escaped my lips. Wetness seeped out of me like a squeezed bottle of lube and slicked sounds squelched between our contact point as my orgasm rose up quickly and crashed hard. Trembles of relief quivered my inner thighs as I exhaled.

Jake's thrusts turned harder, deeper, and uneven as my arousal soaked him down to his balls, which still slapped lightly into me as his chin pressed tightly into the center of my forehead. His breath panted hot waves across the bridge of my nose, I squeezed my eyes until tiny white spots burst into the blackness, and hung on for the ride.

When his already hard arm, chest, shoulder, and ab muscles locked up around me, I opened my eyes, flopped my head down, and caught the very moment Jake came. His face morphed from red and wrenched in tension to a euphoric state of relaxation as he groaned loudly. My hands released his hips as he pumped once, twice more into me, then withdrew with the first sense of gentleness.

A rush of cool air spread over me, followed by an oddly comforting sense of warmth when I realized Jake had covered his girly, fluffy white comforter over me. With one arm hooked over my damp forehead, I rolled onto my left side and panted down my body's elevated state.

Jake's light blue plaid boxers stepped into my line of vision and the bed dipped as he sat close but a respectable enough distance from where I laid down. The staggered muscles in his obliques rippled as his bare torso twisted and one of his hands removed my elbow off my head. The warm contact cracked open my eyes.

To his credit, Jake didn't prompt me to speak but he sure stared down at me while he waited.

"I don't... know about this," I confessed quietly, hugged his comforter up under my armpits, and sat upright. "The dates, in-public kisses, your mom. Fuck it's too much, too fast."

"Hey," he said in a low, even tone that managed not to sound condescending or cooed at me like I was a baby, which I appreciated more than words expressed. "I gave you spare keys for a reason more than just because I trust you."

His back muscles rippled as he turned back to his room and lifted one arm. With one finger pointed where his phone sat on his desk, he added, "My whole schedule's there, so I can share it with you. Unless I'm at class, practice, or a team meeting, I'll meet you here. The house might not be empty but I promise my room will be, just lock the door."

"I..." my voice stalled in my throat, so I nodded as my shoulders sagged slightly. "Thanks."

"And don't worry about Mom, she hasn't said anything you haven't already heard." His bare chest bounced as he laughed quietly but ran his extended hand through his hair. "And it's not a date, I was teasing. She mentioned you when she couldn't make the Stanford game. Thought you might want to see a familiar face but I can just -"

"No." I shook my head and blinked at this weird, almost kind version of Jake. "My roommate's going home for the weekend, so I'll go."

"Good." He leaned over, pressed his lips against my forehead, and stood up. Right as my legs swung out of bed, he dropped a heap of my discarded clothes on my lap.

"Thanks," I muttered and dressed quickly on the edge of his bed.

"For what it's worth..." Jake slipped his sweatpants back on, which actually looked much better when they hung low on his hips with his bare torso. "I was thinking we'd just have dinner here one night for our first date. We can eat in my room because the guys and their girlfriends can be a bit much towards new people, even friends. I don't give a shit if you meet them or not, it's up to you."

"That... sounds better." My lips rolled inwards as I stood up.

Jake held the door open for me and stood flush against the side of it. The same soft look hung in his eyes but this time, my face relaxed into a smile. I pressed one soft kiss into this cheek, whispered thanks, and quickly stepped out.