Golden [ #2 EFS ] ✓

Matchweek Fourteen: Crystal Palace vs. Liverpool

[ Tik Tok by Clean Bandit ft Mabel & 24K Goldn ]

Chapter Fourteen

   T R E N T

I NEED TO TELL Samara about the article about us but I don't know how. I know she's stressed and I don't want to stress her out more. I switch off my phone when I see her walking out of the room drying her hair with a crisp white towel. Her long legs peak out from the bottom of my hoodie that she's wearing. She looks amazing in my clothes, and I don't think I ever want to see her in anything but my clothes ever again.

"Is it okay if I use your hoodie?" She asks, drying her.

"You can use whatever you want of mine."

I loop my arms around her waist, kissing her forehead and cheek, the one that isn't injured.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, tilting her chin up and taking a closer look at her lips.

"It doesn't hurt. Its numb." She tells me, wrapping her arms around my torso and resting her head on my chest.

She pulls back, placing her hands on my shoulders and leaning up. She places a gentle kiss on my lips, whispering, "Thank you. I also have to give you your present."

"You didn't have to get me any—"

"Hush!" She exclaims, placing her fingers over my lips.

She walks over to the couch, bending over and giving me a good view of her arse. She picks up something from her bag and walks over to me with the wrapped present in her hands. She hands it to me and I place peck on her cheek that's not injured. I'm quick to tear the wrapping paper and pulling out the red material. It's a Liverpool shirt but it has her name on the back and she even signed it. I love it.

"You always want me to wear your shirt with your name on it and now you have a shirt with my name on it." She says and I smile at her. "I know it's not much—"

"Hush!" I say, shushing her this time. "Its perfect. Thank you."

I pull her in for a hug, kissing her neck. I place the shirt down on the sofa and cup her licious butt cheeks in my palms. I kiss down her neck, kneeling down in front of her and smirking up. She blushes but its barely noticeable because of her injuries. I peel her thong down her legs, kissing up her thighs until I find her wet cunt. She takes a deep breath as I take her clit in my mouth, aiming to pleasure her as much as I can tonight.

She throws her head back, gripping my hair with both other hands. I flatten my tongue over her clit and she guides my face on her. Her knees buckled but I hold her waist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She tips over the edge and she squirts her cum out, wetting my taste bud with her sweet juice. I stand up and admire her flushed face, as she buried her face in my neck. She jumps back when the front door is swung open and she hides behind me. I groan at the sight of who is there and I know why he is here.

"Seriously Trent!" He exclaims angrily. "You know about the article and yet here you are romancing with your therapist." He sigh. "You can come out Ms Witmoore."

Samara shyly steps out from behind me, tucking a strand of hair being her ear.

"Hi." She waves shyly.

"This is bad." Tyler mumbles, and his eyes dart down to my hands.

I look down and realise that I'm holding Samara's thong. She blushes and I clear my throat awkwardly, looking down.

"The media is everywhere and they want to confirm their suspicions." Tyler says exasperatedly.

"Its not that bad. I mean the photo isn't clear. They don't know for sure that it's Samara with me." I tell him.