Page 60 of Dirty Player
I moved to get up to help her when she stopped me. “Don’t. I’ve got it and you need to rest your ankle.”
It had been so long since someone had attempted to take care of me, tried to help me, that I had to swallow the smart-ass comment.
“Thanks,” I mumbled when she took her place next to me on the couch.
We ate. We talked about her jewelry business, about football and the season. Every time she offered up an opinion, I realized how much she truly knew the game. She’d studied it, loved it. It seemed almost as much a part of her as it was to me.
It only increased my attraction to her. Since Serena had walked out on me, angry I’d tossed her to the side for a dream I’d had since before I ever asked her out in high school, I hadn’t met a woman like Shannon. Most of the conversations I’d had with women over the last several years revolved around my muscles and the way my ass looked in tight football pants.
I didn’t know women like Shannon existed. Every layer I peeled back, every time I dug deeper, I continued to be pleasantly surprised.
She knocked me sideways and upside down as we watched ESPN highlights of the night’s preseason games. She yelled and cursed when Beaux’s old team won.
“What the hell?” I asked, surprised by her outburst.
My hand curled into her shoulder and I pulled her closer. I wanted her there. Loved her energy and her inability to hold back anything she was feeling.
“I can’t help it,” she said, bouncing on the edge of the couch. “I wanted them to lose.”
“Typical girl,” I said, pulling her so she fell against my chest. The ice on my ankle was long gone. I’d iced and rested it and I was tired of it. “Always holding a grudge.”
She slapped my abs, and I grabbed her hand with my other one, holding her against me. “Shut up. I can’t help it. They let him go and they could have used him and now their old quarterback doesn’t have a decent backup.”
I laughed and pressed my lips against the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. “Yeah, but then he wouldn’t be here, in Raleigh and starting.”
She relaxed in my arms—her fingers trailing circles on my abs. The light teasing touch, the scent of her, the feel and the weight of her all rolled through me, sparking and igniting interest and desire for her.
“Where’s your room?” I asked when the attraction between us pulled tight and I didn’t want to wait any longer. “Told Beaux I wouldn’t fuck you on his couch.”
“Oh my gosh.” She groaned and buried her face into my chest. Her shoulders shook with muffled laughter. “You talked about me? In the locker room?”
I wasn’t going to get into it. Not all of it.
“He simply said no fucking on his furniture.”
“The bed I’m sleeping on is his.” She grinned when she pulled back.
I was already pushing to my feet, bringing her with me until her legs were wrapped around my hips and my hands were holding her by her ass.
“Semantics. I also said we wouldn’t wait up for him.”
“Oh my God. I’m never going to be able to show my face around the team again.”
“Hey.” I walked her toward the room she gestured to and kicked the door open. “Does it bother you? You gotta know sometimes shit gets flung around, but between me and Beaux, no one’s going to say shit to you. And if they do, we’ll handle it.”
She pressed her hand against my cheek and her fingertips played with the hair above and behind my ear. She always did that—found a way to touch me so gently that it drove me to distraction.
I wanted hard fucking, nails digging into skin, grips so tight they bruised, and yet she was the sweet to my spice, the light to my dark. Every time I wanted to dirty her up, she made me want to slow down and relish the moment at the same time.
So fucking different from the last six years.
I leaned into her touch while she pressed her lips to my jaw. “I don’t care what they say.”
Thank fuck. I didn’t want to have to promise to kick my teammates’ asses, but I would if it bothered her. Beaux would back me up, too, unless he was the one taking the first swing.
I bent forward and laid her down on the bed. She clung to me, not letting me go, and pulled me down on top of her.
“I love your weight on me,” she said, her hands sliding down my shirt until she pushed her fingers beneath the waistband of my shorts. “And this butt.”
