Page 19 of Dirty Player
Determined. Intense. Focused.
I blinked and swallowed down my nerves.
“I’ve thought about having you beneath me for a week now. The first time that happens won’t be in Kolby’s house in a strange bed where I’ll never be able to picture you there again.”
“Oh.” The lump in my throat returned. I tilted my head back to see him looking down at me. “You wanted to talk.”
“I was an asshole before.”
“I have a feeling you’re always an asshole.”
I might have wanted him, but apparently I hadn’t become a complete doormat.
My words made him laugh. It was beautiful—deep and husky and rolled over me like gentle waves.
“Touché. I’m usually an asshole, just maybe not as obvious as I was to you. I’m sorry for making judgments and treating you like that.”
“Why?”
His hands were still moving on me. Thick and large with calluses from years of hard work. Gentle yet firm—teasing. He brushed the pads of his fingers along my arms and shoulders to my upper back. He was everywhere, all over my exposed skin, making me shiver and tremble beneath him.
“Women around football players want one thing.” His hips pressed against me, drawing me closer. That bulge in his shorts, the one he’d let me see him adjust earlier, pressed against my stomach. God. He was large. He was tall and big everywhere, so it wasn’t a surprise.
My need grew.
“Two things, actually. It’s easy to give them what they want, knowing they’ll disappear afterward. When I saw you touching Beaux, and then dancing with Kolby, I didn’t like it.”
“That’s absurd.”
“I know. Can’t explain it, don’t really want to, but I’m thinking that we should get this attraction between us out of the way. I’ve got a season to focus on—nothing else can have my attention.”
He was being honest.
I had to give him that.
“So a quickie in the bathroom and then I’m forgotten?”
“No.” The word was clipped, showing his tension and restraint. It made my blood begin to boil beneath my skin. “After I take you here, I’ll take you to my place so I can live out the fantasies I’ve had of you for the last week.”
He’d thought of me. Fantasized about me. Somehow, that filled me with a power, a sense of control in this crazy, messed-up situation that I hadn’t yet known I had.
The idea didn’t seem as scary or as bad as it might have last week. After all, he had a season to focus on. I had a new job to get off the ground.
Neither of us had the time.
“Doesn’t seem fair,” I whispered, finally reaching out to touch him. I slid my fingers along the veins popping on his forearm. “To only get the night for you to fulfill your fantasies of me. What about mine of you?”
“You’ve thought about me?” His lips twitched…from humor or victory I didn’t know.
Dishonesty had no place in my life, and I resisted the urge to hide behind lies now. “For years.”
His hands were on my cheeks, pulling me to him. I had to roll to the tips of my toes for balance. “Tell me,” he whispered, right before his lips pressed against mine. “Tell me all of them.”
I couldn’t. He stole my breath and my sense of decency when his warm lips brushed mine and I opened to him. His tongue slid in, not seeking or gentle. I inhaled his scent as we kissed and knew I’d always remember the fresh spice of his cologne. He smelled like summer and excitement, and I suspected some of it was just him.
He plundered me. He sent me off balance with a kiss and his firm hands pressing back to my scalp. It pulled my hair, making it sting and making me tremble beneath him.
The man was tall and strong, able to break me with a breath, a twist of his hands, and yet the bite of pain made me lean closer, crave more.
