Page 40 of Dirty Player
It was as if he could see me quiver, my thighs heating and that burning desire I had for him spreading through my veins.
A smirk twisted his lips. That arrogant, cocky smirk I wanted to kiss away to see the quiet and confident man I’d seen on his farm.
A fucking farm. He lived on one. Or on enough land to have a farm. But the mysterious tight end lived in the middle of nowhere and took care of horses, whispering to them in soft, quiet murmurs while wearing board shorts and T-shirts and didn’t seem to care what I thought of him.
For some reason, he’d invited me into his personal space. He’d let me see who he really was, giving me very little information.
I had gleaned enough.
He wasn’t the guy the world knew him as.
It made it harder to keep my heart from getting involved, yet I was still determined to do so.
I had less than four weeks with him. I wanted every second to count.
All of that conflicted with the way my heart quickened as Oliver smiled at me, pressed his fingers to his lips, and dropped his hand to his side before flashing me his signature wink.
I liked him. I didn’t know him well, but it was more than physical attraction that swirled and built into a combustible moment whenever we were around each other.
It’d been days.
It felt like months since I’d been with him, since I’d touched him, since he’d been deep inside me.
“Did you see that?” the woman behind me whispered to her friend. They’d gossiped about the players the entire game, their dates or husbands or partners on the other side of them, ignoring them.
“I saw it. He looked at us. Powell looked at us and blew us a kiss.”
The other woman huffed.
I resisted the urge to turn around and check them out.
They hadn’t been focused on the game for a single second, but had been whispering about the men in their tight pants and what they’d do to the players if given the chance. I assumed the men they were with would be getting the ride of their lives later, the women living out wicked, dirty fantasies in their beds, or the men would be left high and dry while the women searched out the players.
I had great seats—seats where I didn’t mind watching the game alone. Most of the people around me were people I’d be seeing all season. No one said anything about the empty seat next to me, but those questions would come. Eventually they always did. Why Beaux bothered to buy me two seats when he knew I’d rarely bring anyone other than Melissa to the games was beyond me, but I never argued.
For the rest of the game, I cheered when we had great plays, jumped to my feet and stayed there when there were forty-five seconds left and the kicker lined up a field goal to seal the win.
When it was done and they’d won, I pushed through the crowd, headed toward the back hallways where only family had access, and waited for Beaux, and Oliver, to make their appearance from the locker room.
The hallway was packed with media and sportscasters. Cameramen lined up outside the locker room. From inside, the chants and cheers of the victorious team reverberated through the hallway like a dull roar.
“You’re new. You family or girlfriend?”
I turned toward the female voice and smiled, holding out my hand. “Shannon Hale, Beaux’s older sister.”
Her face lit up with recognition. “Oh! We didn’t get a chance to meet the other day. I’m Jillian Rudolph, Danny’s wife.”
“Nice to meet you.” I’d met Rudolph at the party. He’d pointed his wife out to me from the distance, and up close she looked just as pretty as she had in a white, one-piece swimsuit with cutouts just above her hips. Rudolph was a defensive end player, large and strong and had a great game earning one sack. “He played great tonight.”
“He’ll play better later,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I bet Oliver will, too.”
I jerked back, and she laughed at my surprise.
“They’re good friends. Trust me, there isn’t a thing Oliver does that Danny doesn’t know about. And I’ve been hearing about you all week long.”
“Um.” Nerves suffused my veins and speech was difficult. This was for fun, sure, but he’d talked about me? “We, um…just met and we’re friends.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “It’s okay. Us girls need to stick together. Did you watch the game from a box?”
