Hero: Knox Masters. A senior at Western State. Headed for the NFL. Smart, gorgeous, and talented. Oh, and he’s a virgin.

Heroine: Ellie Campbell. A junior at Western State. Her brother is on the football team. Smart, beautiful, and holding on to a very big secret. Oh, and she doesn’t date football players. Ever.

My vaunted self-control slipped, and while I’m sure of her, I know she’s not sure of me. Not yet anyway. So I came up here to relieve myself, gain a measure of composure, and go back downstairs loose and ready for round two. Or three.

Only, before I could finish, she appears like my fucking fantasy come to life. Her eyes devour me and her lips part as she struggles to catch her breath. I run my gaze over her gorgeous face and enjoy the sight of her sweet tits doing a little dance inside her sparkly tank top as she pants lightly.

I could come this instant, but I want to prolong this moment. How often do I have a girl as hot as Ellie standing transfixed watching me pleasure myself? I’m milking this moment—pun intended—until I experience the best orgasm of my life. The first of many with Ellie. The first of many.

I’ve done this so many times by myself that the pleasure from it is a little rote, but not now. I feel the blaze torch me from my legs up into my brain. The burn inside me is that pleasure-pain you get when you butt up against the first barrier of your body that says no, but you push on anyway and that endorphin rush floods you as a reward for your persistence.

“Was it the dancing?” she asks huskily, like she’s conducting a scientific study.

The cock in my hand grows harder than ever, and I’m leaking so much pre-come I don’t even need lube.
“It’s you, baby,” I tell her. “It’s all you. Your tight body rubbing up against mine. The smell of the honey of your hair. Your sweet lips pressing against my chest when you thought I wasn’t paying attention. All you.”

“I should leave,” she says, but makes no move in the direction of the bedroom. If anything, I swear she opens the bathroom door even more.

I slow my strokes down to a snail’s pace, squeezing hard at the base so I don’t blow. “Only if you want to.”

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers out. Her eyes glue to my dick.

“Are you?” She’s not even a little sorry. She’s intrigued as all hell. I want to grab her arm and pull her against me, but I know touching her while I’m in this condition is asking for it.

“Kind of but…obviously I’m not leaving.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. Her embarrassment at enjoying this is too fucking much, but my laughter doesn’t kill off a gram of my arousal. As long as she’s standing there enjoying the show, my body is primed for her. “You don’t have to leave. This is all for you.”

Sacked by Jen Frederick is an adorably fun, sexy, humorous sports romance that is sure to appeal to NA fans who enjoy  Kristen Callihan, Sarina Bowen, and Elle Kennedy.

Are you ready to get Sacked? It releases September 6 and my review will post Spetember 3.