Page 80 of Dirty Player
“Yes. Let’s see how many times in one night we can break the damn thing.”
I laughed. “Another round with your stamina might breakme.”
His eyes darkened and went intense in a way I hadn’t yet seen. Dark lashes framed shaded eyes, but it was impossible to miss the seriousness in his gaze.
“Never,” he whispered, cupping my cheek with his palm. “I don’t ever want to do that.”
Chapter NINETEEN
SHANNON
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” Oliver drawled as he made his way to where I was standing, backside propped against the hood of my silver Honda. “What are you doing here?”
I slid my sunglasses to the top of my head and smiled. “I thought since you had the evening off and I needed a break from Stamped, we could go do something.”
After the drama he’d had with Serena earlier that week, it had occurred to me that while we’d gone out for dinner a couple of times, we spent a lot of time between the sheets and not a lot of time talking. So that day I’d decided to surprise him when he got done with an early practice.
The next morning, the team flew down to Miami to get ready for their first game of the season.
Oliver glanced around the parking lot at the practice field and a line dipped between his brows. For a moment I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Perhaps he wanted to stay home and be alone, concentrate on the game ahead.
“We don’t have to—”
He interrupted me and wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me to him while he held a duffel bag in his other hand. “No, I do. I’m just surprised to see you and I feel like an ass for not realizing we haven’t been out much.”
“Well”—I grinned and rolled to my toes, tilting my head back to kiss his chin—“we have been pretty busy doing other things.”
He kissed my cheek and squeezed me tight before letting go. “All right, then. Let’s do this, but I’m driving.”
I laughed at the way he glanced at my car, like there was no way he was letting a woman drive him around.
“I wanted to go somewhere near my place, though.”
A luscious look flickered in his eyes. “Then I’ll bring you back here in the morning.”
Considering that implied we were spending the night together, how could I argue with him?
“So where do you want to go?” he asked once we were settled in his car and pulling out of the lot.
“I was thinking Mexican. There’s this great little restaurant down by the university I’ve been wanting to try.”
“Mama Casita’s?” he asked, barely giving me a glance. “I love that place. They have live Mariachi bands that play there on Thursdays.”
“Which was why I wanted to go,” I replied, grinning that he knew that information. When I’d walked by Mama Casita’s while exploring the arts district, it seemed like any other restaurant from the outside, small, one-story brown brick building with the lettering of the name written in typical bright colors. Yet last week when I’d been walking down the sidewalk, the music had caught my attention and I’d wanted to go inside to check it out.
Oliver kept his eyes on the road in front of us and placed one hand on my thigh, squeezing firmly. “Trying to get me to dance with you again?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, if you think you can keep up with me.”
He shot me a brief look and licked his lips. “I’m pretty sure we both know I can keep it up.”
“Good.” I smirked. “Because I have plans for you tonight.”
The attraction between us, that electricity that was always there, simmering below the surface, sparked to life.
“How was practice?” I asked, my voice huskier than usual. Darn the man and his sexiness. I had to change the subject before we ended up in bed before our night began.
He flashed me a knowing look at the question and began running his thumb along the inside of my thigh. I had thrown on a simple dress earlier. The summer heat was killing me, so I’d grabbed a lightweight, baby pink dress with a pleated skirt, fitted bodice, and spaghetti straps. As Oliver began touching me, it felt like I was already naked.
