A/N: Mature content.

Even though my favorite pastime was ego- and ball-busting on Jake, he always played football well. He was naturally talented and ate, slept, and breathed that damn sport. His dump truck-sized ass worked incredibly hard, harder than I'd ever dedicated myself towards anything in my life. His offensive results spoke for themselves but, in USC's second-to-last home game, he came onto the field and dominated every Trojans' offensive possession of the ball.

The crowd's atmosphere was more electric than a delayed and rescheduled boy band concert. Ninety-two thousand fans, mostly USC's, cheered and celebrated every yard Jake moved forwards, field goal London Drake tapped in, and defensive stop that stopped Cal's drives or, even better, smashed them backwards.

With as many games as I'd half-assed watched, tonight number seven grabbed and held my attention every time he was on the field.

Jake's normal, stoic, run-first offense was absent against the Cal Bears. USC charged down the field, one pass at a time. Jake's arm fired the ball like a well-oiled cannon, which included a forty-four-yard touchdown reception to Evan on their first drive of the second quarter.

"Looks like your boy can go balls deep." I smirked at Delilah.

With zero hesitation, she returned with a wink, "So can I."

Girl-crush kidding aside, I liked Delilah within the roughly five minutes she needed to tell me the story of why she sat next to me. She and Evan met at Adam and Eve when Jake had, in her words, 'adorably and uncomfortably' brought some friends with him for my replacements. Evan dragged her into the changing room so he could try on a leather number, where instead she fucked him senseless until he begged for her number.

Like a true fuckgirl queen, she gave him the wrong seven digits. And she hadn't just given him a random phone number but an erectile dysfunction support hotline.

Nearly desperate, Evan called the store two hours later and she hung up on him. Thursday night, he showed up at Adam and Eve after her shift ended. In what she called a moment of 'pussy-pity,' they screwed in the parking lot in one of the security camera's blind spots. Afterwards, he convinced her to come over and they'd fucked each other wildly all night.

Mrs. H. had never looked so invested in a football game before but I gaped in awe. Her crazy kinks, combined with his, made me and Jake look like a melted vanilla ice cream cone.

Still can't believe I didn't hear their sexcapades one floor down.

"Yeah, we broke his cheapass desk," she laughed. "Totally worth the splinters in his ass. I thought it was a one-night thing but..."

"Here you are," I finished for her.

She echoed my own sentiments with absolutely no interest in her voice, "Here I am, probably fucking stupid out of my mind."

Beyond familiar sentiments.

For my sake, I hope this one lasts.

While other girlfriends of Jake's other team members sat a few rows back, I'd avoided any and all contact with those heifers. Delilah was like a breath of fresh air through LA's silicon, contoured surface air. After today, I had a feeling she would've at least challenged Evan for another round since I hadn't even known the seat next to mine was his.

"Someone's lit a fire under his ass." Mrs. Harrison nodded at Jake as we stood up for halftime, USC up 38-10 over Cal for what looked like their fifth win of the season.

She was right. In just half the game, Jake had 237 yards passing, 78 yards rushing, 3 touchdown passes, and another score he'd run in himself. And he'd never stood still, some of his passes were thrown off his back foot or while he ran laterally to the line of scrimmage.

Like he's sending some kind of message...

Whatever Jake's motive was, I admittedly found myself both impressed and turned on more than once during the game. My ladybits fired off more than the Coliseum's touchdown celebration siren, and not from Delilah's graphic sex details and advice on how to properly attach dual-nipple clamps for maximum stimulation. No, the traitorous vagina warmed at number seven's athletic performance as his stupid tight pants danced all over the field.

Every time he shot me a smirk from the sidelines, faint pulses throbbed warmly between my thighs. I crossed them and squeezed down for relief, which never worked. By the time the game ended 68-21, I felt like a rabid dog in heat.

Mrs. Harrison had gone all day without one mention of me and her son, but apparently my luck had run out at the end of the one-sided game when Jake shot us a one-armed wave and trotted to the locker room.

"I haven't seen Jake play like that in years." With her red lips twisted into a coy smile, she added, "Like he's playing to impress -"

"It's not me." I lowered the middle finger that rubbed my right temple right when Earl's bald head near my shins turned around.

"What's that, Angel?" He cupped a weathered hand around his ear, then grinned up at Delilah. "Devil, I didn't know they were serving bullshit at Concessions tonight."

Hilarious to pretty much only Earl himself, he'd nicknamed her 'Devil' with my 'Angel.'

"Are you off your meds, old man?" I shot back with a smile.

He wagged one index finger at me and clicked his tongue. "Angel, you're a blessing with how your boy is playing this season but sometimes you're drowning in denial."

"Potato, pah-tah-to, you call it denial, I say self-preservation." Both Mrs. H and Delilah's heads snapped in my direction. Thankfully, they stayed closed-lipped, so I teased Earl, "Will you still be alive by the next home game, you old fart?"

"Of course, Angel." His grin widened. "I live for watching USC beat those pansy-ass UCLA Bruins."

Good.

I'd texted Jake that Earl's cardboard-flat, old, saggy ass sat for his fiftieth season and USC needed to acknowledge that. Jake was surprised that he didn't know and agreed with me, but I assumed whatever USC planned was reserved for the UCLA game since the usual game rituals were performed today.

"And you..." I turned to Mrs. H. as we stood up. "Coming back here for the last game?"

"That's the plan," she replied and slipped her purse over her shoulder. "Jake's taking me back to LAX after tonight's game but most of our family is coming to San Jose State. You're welcome to -"

"Nah, you need to spend some time with the big, dumb ass." I reached my arms out and hugged her tightly. "Thanks for today."

"My pleasure," she whispered into my ear. "See you in a month."

After we exchanged goodbyes, I turned since I wanted Delilah's number but her spot was completely vacant.

Damn, rejected.

After I went through the normal post-game foot and car traffic, I remembered that Jake's next three games were all away. The UCLA-USC game was the last of the regular season, then USC's bye week gave them a week off before the PAC-12 playoffs started.

Guess I should work on that proper sendoff then.

Since Jake had a long drive to LAX, I took my time back to UCLA. I returned to a thankfully completely dark and empty dorm room. Li texted me after their game ended that she was with Kieran and I was grateful they hadn't celebrated the Bruins' win on her lofted bed.

I grabbed a couple of additional play friend options for tonight, changed into a comfortable T-shirt and leggings, and drove over to Jake's house. The post-game traffic had lessened but still clogged up the local roads. In no hurry, I just hummed along to the radio until I pulled up to a lit-up, crowded football house.

Fabulous. Can practically smell the syphilis from here.

A wave of damp heat hit my skin when I entered through the front door, along with deafening throbs of music in an obvious celebration party. The living room sofas were littered with social groups who drank together, guys shared game recap moments, and girls hung desperately off them.

I pressed my lips together at the contraception teachable moment that tempted them and headed upstairs. The music dulled once I climbed up the second set of steps to the third floor and my elevated heartbeat thumped louder in my ears by the time I gripped the top railing and took out my keys.

My feet skidded to a stop when I found a short, increasingly annoying, blonde not just in Jake's bedroom but his bed. Her blue-gray eyes lifted from where she stared vacantly at the floor, met mine, and narrowed into thin slits.

First Bambi and now... Haven't I suffered enough blondes for today?

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I wrenched my hand around the doorknob.

From where she sat on the edge of Jake's bed, Emily's lips curled back into a smile none of me trusted. "He invited me."

I wasn't generally a person who cared what other people said or did in their own personal lives as long as they stayed the fuck out of mine. Empathy was nowhere in my personality profile and Emily was oblivious to the invisible common-sense line when it came to privacy.

My nostrils twitched, then flared at the sight of her small frame reclined on Jake's bed. Her hands palmed two small indentations into the comforter, her arms straight and braced her upper body's weight, and she crossed her right knee over the left, where her right foot bounced.

Mental note, fuck Jake speechless right where her ass imprint is.

My eyes fluttered closed for a moment and I stupidly wished that by the time they opened, the blonde bitch wasn't actually in front of me. Her tight, low-cut black dress looked like an option a girl used so her breasts looked bigger, but probably every girl on USC and UCLA's campuses knew Jake was a breasts-guy.

In particular, the way she acted like Jake's door wasn't locked and his bed was an open invitation burned into me.

Because if anyone gets the open invitation, then it's the bitch with the... Does she have a key?

"He invited you," I stated dryly, dropped my purse under Jake's desk, and contemplated if choking by dildo was a punishable offense.

"During the movies last night," she replied coyly, in a suggestive voice that grated on both my ears and nerves. Her eyes opened comically and she gaped at me with false surprise. "You didn't know? Every Friday, the guys have a house movie night. I haven't seen you at one, so you wouldn't have seen Jake and me together."

While Jake and I had our own double header on Thursday, she was right. I hadn't seen him on Friday. Emily's story sounded plausible but my bullshit meter screamed DEFCON-5.

I felt baited and petty, but bit back with, "Was that before or after he gave you his tickets to today's game?"

"No, it was when I snuggled up next to him on the sofa," she practically purred out at me. "When I rested my head on his shoulder and we held a hushed conversation. We've been friends since sophomore year... Can you say the same?"

No, but I can list at least a hundred things about him you can't, bitch.

The challenge that underlined her words and cast a gray tone over her eyes struck me harder than it should have. While I knew Jake probably better than anyone, we were fuck buddies first. Yes, we cared about each other as fellow members of the human species, but...

Fuck, she's right. I don't treat him like a friend.

Do I... want to be his friend?

My faltered, silent response widened the smile on her lips. A twitch throbbed through my fingertips that I raked it off her face with my nails, but instead I just balled them into fists at my sides. Never one who lost verbal arguments, I felt beyond uncomfortable, and small even though I towered over her. She's found a nerve, somehow, and struck right into it.

"Can't say that, can you," Emily taunted me in a quiet but triumphant tone. "Do you know much about him? What's his favorite class? Which professor he hates the most? Which trainer on the team he works closest with? Who his closest friend on the team is?"

I used my standing advantage and glared down as her words settled uncomfortably in my brain. Mentally, I tossed her small ass onto the floor, pinned her down, and punched her ovaries until they ruptured, but her smile only widened.

"That's what I thought," the smugness in her voice sank my nails deeper in the soft, warm flesh of my palms. With a slight head shake, she clicked her tongue. "You lasted longer than the others but you're still nothing but another warm hole."

The longer we occupied Jake's room, the louder my breaths became and thicker the air burned in my lungs. My heartbeat pounded stronger until my pulse buzzed in my eardrums, my eyes narrowed into thin slits until Emily's triumphant smirk blurred from my vision, and my teeth clamped down like a snapped bear trap.

The sooner this bitch leaves, the better.

With a slow, calculated breath in, I drew my shoulders down and took one step closer to Emily. "Listen here, you -" I started when Jake's bedroom door swung open.

My heart paused when I saw him dressed in his black post-game suit, with just the top button of his red dress shirt opened. His hair fell in dark, slightly damp strands.

"Harper," he breathed out my name, then frowned when his eyes roamed over my shoulder. "And... uhh, Emily?"

I hated myself for the small victory celebration that erupted at the confusion Jake's deep voice threaded into Emily's name. With one glance behind me, I took in his drawn together eyebrows and hand grasped on the edge of the door near his gear bag at his side.

"Hi Jake." The little snake slithered off Jake's bed, nudged my arm with her shoulder as she stepped past, and turned her voice into auditory syrup that made me want my ears chopped off. "Good to see you again."

"I... need to talk to you." Jake's frown deepened and he lifted his eyes from hers up to mine.

My only response was the best murderous glare I had in me. Jake had enough common sense that if I left his room then I for sure bolted, so he steered Emily out into the hallway, dropped his bag, and threw me an apologetic look before he closed the door.

Unfucking believable.

I flopped my ass down onto the small divot Emily left on the bed and punched my fist down into a puffed up part of Jake's comforter. Since a faint, girly perfume smell lingered in the air, I jumped up, retrieved the Febreeze and Lysol from Jake's closet, and sprayed every air particle possible. A damp mist settled down around me and I'd just put the cans back when his bedroom door opened.

"Sorry about her." The irritation in Jake's eyes and voice wasn't enough and my lips wrenched into a scowl.

Heat flamed inside me the longer I glared at him while he locked the door and moved around his room. Once he removed his suit coat, tie, and dress shirt, he pulled his undershirt out from his dress pants' waistband. He groaned quietly and ran both hands through his hair. "I'm really sorry. I don't know what the fuck she told you but I didn't invite her in."

Before my filter caught my words, I blurted out, "Did you do a movie night with her last night?"

As soon as what I implied registered in my brain, I wanted to punch my own ovaries. My stomach clenched inward and I closed my eyes for a second.

Smooth as broken glass, Harper.

"Just the house one we do every Friday night." Jake's shoulders lifted slightly. From his furrowed eyebrows, tiny crease lines around his nostrils and corners of his slightly parted lips, the confusion stayed on his face.

"We sat near each other but..." His eyes slightly glazed over but he blinked and shook his head. "I promise nothing happened."

Except the part where the bitch thought it was a group date.

Another emotion swirled into the confusion in Jake's eyes. It deepened his brown irises until they looked like two pools of the richest dark chocolate. My mouth dropped open at his next two words.

"You're jealous." His eyes, however, filled with smugness and recognition.

I, however, couldn't have had more of an opposite reaction. White dots flashed in the corners of my vision and I narrowed my eyes until Jake's large frame blurred in and out of focus. My breaths shortened into my chest and I pressed my lips tightly together.

Internally my insides broiled but externally I found my impassive resting bitch face and retorted in a cool, even tone, "Of your short, flat-chested, bedroom stalker?"

"She's not flat-chested." Jake's lips twitched slightly towards his left cheek.

Of course, he noticed her sweater stretchers. Bitch was one inch away from nipplegate exposure.

"Ugh." I threw my hands up with a groan, flung my legs off Jake's bed, and stomped towards his desk where my purse was. The words burned a bad taste in my mouth but I spat them out anyways, "You want her? Fine. Our fucking deal is off!"

Two hands clenched over each of my shoulders. "No."

Jake's face remained relaxed and offered only a soft upward lift in the corners of his mouth. The longer he looked down at me, still full of satisfaction and entirely calm, the angrier I grew. Like a slow burn rage, my anger bubbled up and festered inside me until it surged through my joints, flamed my skin warm like internal combustion, and my thoughts clashed between whether I punched Jake's stupid face or kissed the fuck out of him.

I chose both.

My right hand balled into a fist, whipped up, and I thrust it forwards. With a snap, Jake's hand caught my wrist when my knuckles were an inch from his jaw. The contact snapped my anger inside me and my weaker hand lifted for its chance. I grunted when Jake caught it easily, then smirked down at me. That upward curve in his lips was the only invitation I needed.

"Fuck you, Jake!" I lunged forwards and smashed my head into his stupidly hard chin.

Both our heads whipped back at the smashed contact that burst a sting of pain between my eyebrows and hairline. Jake's hands closed around my wrists like shackles. Too far committed to the heated rage that flamed through me, the pinched bite on my skin and pressure on my tendons only enflamed me further. I braced my upper body's weight into his grasp, hinged my hips, and drove my right knee upwards towards his pelvis.

"Did you... just -" Jake stepped forwards and in between my legs. He grunted when my knee slammed into the side of his outer left thigh but locked his leg in between mine.

A normal, or at least sane, person probably would've asked what the fuck was wrong with me. But I was too far gone to hear what he said next. I'd hurled myself into whatever the fuck enraged me at this moment and eroded my common sense like a battery dropped into acid.

Jake's face hardened but he remained calm and unfazed. The determined look his eyes wore only fueled me further. I realized head butting him again was my only option, snapped back my neck, and drove my head forwards again.

Jake easily dodged me by leaning backwards and my head fell into his hard chest. He groaned on contact, which probably hurt me more, but his grip on my wrists tightened. "Harper -"

"We had a deal!" My throat stung from how shrilly I shrieked into his chest. I ignored the comforting smell of his laundry detergent, pressed my cheek into the warmth that radiated from under his soft cotton shirt, and rasped out, "Do I fucking need to get tested again!?"

He wedged his thigh further between my legs and tugged my arms down until our torsos slammed flush against each other. The heated pulse from where my crotch rubbed over his dress pants only lifted my head back again.

"No." Before I moved, two large, warm palms clamped onto the sides of my head and his fingers framed around my ears. Jake held me tightly enough that I stopped but strong enough that a tension lifted off my neck, replaced by a tingling sensation of weightlessness. His eyes, dark but steadily determined, glued onto mine like he willed me to submit.

Since my hands were now free, I lifted and cupped them around the hard cords on the sides of his neck. My fingers comically wrapped barely halfway around it but I squeezed hard enough that his eyes narrowed at me.

"No," he spat out between tightly clenched teeth. Out of patience, his eyes darkened and glared down at me.

"Fucking stop!" I bit down hard into my cheek, so hard that a warm, iron taste hit my tongue. "I hate that word from you!"

Jake's face and neck relaxed. In a steady, determined voice and gleam in his eyes, he repeated, "No."

"I..." My eyes blurred over with white spots again. "...hate you."

My own whispered lie trembled not just my lower lip but also my shoulders and fingers. In one movement, I gripped the back of his neck, pulled him down to me, and slammed my lips against his before another stupid, fucking 'No' came out of his mouth.

A slight pain burst in my lips upon our slammed contact, but I ignored it and pushed harder against Jake. My mouth flamed hot as my saliva met his when our teeth clashed. This time, I covered his mouth with mine and controlled our kiss. I nipped, bit, licked, and shoved my tongue down this throat so hard I wanted that he and every 'No' word choked on it.

Jake's hands released the tension that squeezed the sides of my head like a vice and wrapped them around to the base of my skull. His fingertips wound through my hair and dug into my scalp but his firm grip felt more like he held on against my mouth's attack on his. He tucked his elbows under mine but kept his feet firmly planted so I probably looked like I humped his left thigh. Our eyes stayed open, with heated, distrustful glares traded between us.

With a grunt, I jabbed my tongue hard against Jake's, so hard that he swallowed thickly. As if I'd snapped his restraint, he pressed back and sank his teeth into my lower lip. I gasped at the burst of pain and scraped my nails down the back of his neck, then clawed into the sides of it.

Upon my fingers' contact, the enraged heat inside me spilled over and waned under the arousal that bubbled up underneath it. I hooked my fingers over the ridges of Jake's undershirt collar and yanked hard. The rip that erupted under the strained fabric only slightly pacified my anger, so I yanked harder until a tear line dragged down towards his left pec muscle. The fabric loosened, stretched, and dug into the other side of his neck but his only response was his lips wrapped around my tongue and sucked hard.

Unsatisfied, I yanked again and again. Rip after yanked rip from my desperate hands, Jake's white undershirt tore down to the hem. My other hand retreated my nails from his neck, then raked them down the center of his chest and sternum that I'd exposed.

Jake's shoulders flinched but he only thrust his tongue hard against the ridged palate at the roof of my mouth. I withdrew my tongue and bit down on his. The wet, textured muscle squished between my teeth and finally Jake's restraint broke.

My whole body felt weightless, but pain radiated in my back and shoulder blades before I realized he'd picked me up. A groan vibrated my throat against the smacked contact sound from where he'd slammed me into the wall. He pinned me in place with his hands on my waist and hips lodged against mine.

The hot ache between my legs applauded his efforts, along with the hard erection he rammed into my clothed seam as I wrapped my legs around his hips. The texture from his pants rubbed right through my thinner leggings in a heated friction that throbbed a second heartbeat at the contact point. My lungs burned but I dragged my nails over his bare chest, desperate that I touched him again.

We both gasped for air when Jake's lips detached from mine. With no break, he dove down and latched them onto the side of my neck. With piercing nips and bites, he marked a ragged, uneven path with hard and punishing movements. I writhed with every one of them.

He paused at the junction of my jawline, then sucked hard into my skin. "Why -" he moved a microinch lower and sucked again. In between each word, he drew in my skin harder, between his teeth, then moved over a new sensitive area. "Are you so fucking difficult?"

I reached over his shoulders, where my hands tore what was left of his ragged shirt off. His bronzed skin was flushed pink in between the red irritation lines my nails had drawn across his chest and abdomen.

"I'm not jealous," I clarified and tossed his shirt remnants on the floor. "I'm angry."

His hips slammed me backwards again, this time so hard that the wall buckled and crunched behind the base of my shoulder blades. One of his hands reached up and he carefully detached my legs. My core area throbbed hard, painfully hard when he ripped my pants and underwear down. The fabric cut into the skin on my opposite hip and thigh, and the soft rip sound indicated he'd at least torn the waistband as he yanked both down my legs.

Jake left them bunched around my knees, then dragged his fingers up my heated inner thighs. I clamped them shut before the rough pads of his fingers reached my folds. I had a point but the last thing I wanted him to know was how aroused I also felt.

"Tell me how you'd feel if another guy laid in my bed!?" I snarled out. When he didn't answer, my lips curled back. "Fucking double standards. How many times have you slept with her, Jake?"

"None." He latched his mouth onto my left shoulder, where he sank his teeth down.

The entire side of my neck warmed and throbbed with the sting of incoming bruises, which I ignored and gasped under the sting from his bite. With a tight reach around him, I attacked his back with my nails, dragged, poked, and scraped his skin under them.

By the time he reared back, Jake's hair stuck out in a few random directions. Heat burned so darkly in his eyes that his irises were nearly the same color as his enlarged pupils. My rounded reflection showed my own appearance had reached near insane asylum status.

With two hands palmed into Jake's slightly damp chest, I pushed him off me, hard. After a stumbled step sideways, his butt hit the edge of his desk, which rocked slightly from impact.

A flicker of annoyance appeared in his eyes and died the second I ripped off my shirt, flung my bra who the fuck knows where, and stepped out of my pants and underwear. Cooler air kissed over my heated skin except the swollen side of my neck, which throbbed with a dull, hot pain. I rubbed my fingers over the sensitive area, then shoved Jake back against his desk.

"You demand to know about my feelings, so tell me!" I shoved him again. He sank down on his desk, which groaned under his weight. With another shove, I demanded, "How would you feel!?"

"Angry," he spat out as my hands latched onto his hips. My fingers unbuttoned them, then yanked them down hard with his boxers. His hips flinched when I dragged them over his pelvis and his full, red, strained erection slapped lightly against his navel. A small but noticeable amount of tension released from where my shoulders pinched into my neck.

At least we're both affected.

"Jealous," he corrected himself and groaned when I choked my hand around his shaft, right under the head. "I'd want to beat the shit out of him."

"Fucking double standards," I muttered again and stroked my hand down hard.

Protective caveman is hot but the other way around, the crazy psycho bitch is desperate and needs a restraining order.

In my paused silence, Jake moved my hand off him, stepped out of his clothes, and lifted me onto his desk. The hard, cool, wood surface chilled my skin's contact points but I silently glared at him while he retrieved and rolled on a condom. His chest and abdominal muscles glistened with the same perspiration that edged his forehead near his hairline and painted his cheeks and nose a rosy pink.

With two loud slams, his palms smashed onto the desk's surface on both sides of my hips. With a soft pinch, his thumb and forefinger grasped my chin, which he redirected so my gaze met his. His sounded voice strangled itself in his throat and bordered a growl, laced with desperation that I believed him.

With each word enunciated to the point where it sounded tortured out of his lips, Jake's words hit me hard.

"I. Don't. Want. Her."

I palmed his shoulders as he lined himself with my entrance. My knees fell open but I challenged him with a level of pathetic desperation that I hated myself for. "Say it."

"I want -" With one snap, he rammed his hips forwards. "- you."