I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 32: Logan

A/N: Mature content

Mom was right when she teased that I needed a lot of sleep or else I was grouchy. I worked out hard and exhausted my body physically but also mentally. Football season exaggerated the problem, but I'd never had any problems taking mid-afternoon naps or going to sleep earlier after games. My Aggies' teammates teased me a lot at how I was the first asleep on the bus or plane rides back from away games.

When my hotass ex-girlfriend that I desperately wanted to win back over laid in bed next to me, while one of my T-shirts hadn't covered her tiny, black lace thong underwear, sleep was the last thing on my mind overnight.

I wasn't a light sleeper but Ellie put her air mattress sounds to shame with how much she thrashed and tossed for a few hours. At first I worried that she had a nightmare but she just moaned softly and flipped around until the sheets wrapped around her and restricted her movements.

At the first cracks of sunlight, I got up and stumbled my way towards the bathroom. After I relieved myself through half-closed eyes, I knew I hadn't gotten enough sleep even if my only game action today was my ass benched.

My feet froze in the bedroom doorway at the sight of Ellie. She laid sprawled on her stomach, face down into a pillow with one of her arms overhead and my gray bed sheets wound tightly around her thighs. Her lower back arched, which lifted her hips and showed off a clear view of her ass in the air.

When we'd dated, by far the sexiest thing about Ellie had been her quiet sense of confidence. She hadn't started out that way but, as our relationship grew and we talked until all her first-time awkwardness dissolved, she slowly grew more and more forward about what she wanted.

Our physical relationship had developed very slowly, but I'd been okay with that. We went step by step, at Ellie's pace, and I enjoyed every fucking minute of it. With all the other girls I'd been with, I rushed only to the point where I'd made myself feel good but it had been an empty, disconnected, physical-only happiness. My experiences with Ellie, even just kissing and touching, had not only physically felt better than any others but also drew me closer to her emotionally.

Even though our one attempt at sex was shit, the fact I'd loved Ellie still ruined any other physical relationship since her. I only needed one experience my freshman year, after we won the Big Sky championship game, before I realized that just a chance with Ellie again was worth the wait. In a post-game party, a girl whose name I'd forgotten too many times climbed onto my lap, forced her beer-coated tongue in my mouth, and roughly palmed my crotch.

In that moment, I realized I could've had any girl I wanted, except the one that I wanted no longer wanted me. And, personally, while the hand friction had felt nice, there wasn't a bigger turn-off than how I was reminded of Ellie's rejection.

The sight of Ellie, inches from me in my bed, obliterated any memories of potential hookups or girls with false or superficial interests. She was so physically close but still emotionally distant that the wait for what I wanted was more painful than I'd thought, despite how I'd teased her.

Just the sight of the roundness of her ass cheeks, the flimsy one-inch strip of black lace that covered nothing in between them, and her exposed skin that I knew was soft and smooth to the touch had me hard and uncomfortable before I even sat back down in bed. A heavy ache settled in my pelvis, my cock moved on its own, and swelled straight up into my stomach in appreciation of the curves in her small body, the slight part in her full lips, and the soft groan she released when the bed dipped under my weight.

As I slipped next to her but stayed closest to the edge for as much distance as possible, I leaned over and pressed a soft kiss onto the top of her head. "You're not making this easy," I whispered into her hair and forced myself back to sleep.