Dirty Player(10)

I flinched and reached for my bathing suit, scrambling for it while on my knees.

“My fiancé thought it was more fun to fuck someone else, I guess.”





Chapter SIX





OLIVER



“What?” I reached for her as she stood, pulling her back to me.

She jerked out of my touch, and I took the moment to pull up my own shorts. Fuck, that was hot. The last thing I’d expected was for Shannon to drop to her knees and suck me off like she’d been starved for it.

I was still reeling from it. Still shaking and trying to catch my breath when the words slipped from my mouth.

“I didn’t mean it badly.” I scrubbed my hands down my face. I had to get control. “And any man who lets you go after that is a moron.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

She shot me a look over her shoulder that told me she thought the same.

“I’m sorry. Give me a minute. I think you might have sucked my brains out through my dick.”

She laughed, and I knew it was despite herself because she was still getting dressed like she couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.

Hell. I’d had blowjobs before. Lots of them. I wasn’t kidding when I told Shannon that women everywhere wanted to wrap their lips around an NFL player’s cock for the sole point of being able to brag about doing so.

I can’t exactly say I’d been particular before, but nothing compared to her excitement, her lust for it. The way she’d acted like she had to have it inside of her.

My dick hardened all over again just thinking about the way she looked on her knees. Eyes wide and watery. Lips stretched and bright pink.

Damn it. I adjusted myself and put my thoughts in order.

“Can I start over and say that was fucking amazing? And ignore the part where it hurt your feelings?”

“That’d be fine.” She smoothed down her hair, running her fingers through it. It was useless. She looked well fucked and wild.

What she didn’t do was look at me in the mirror.

I wanted us back on track. Back to the talk of fantasies and filthy words she didn’t cringe from when I spoke.

“I should go,” she said, turning to avoid me.

I stepped in front of her, resisting the urge to shake her. If she thought I was letting her walk away from me now, she was out of her ever-loving mind.

Besides, I was strangely curious about this fiancé. Not that I’d ask.

“Come home with me. I want you in my bed.”

She made a sound of disbelief, arms crossed over her now-covered stomach like I hadn’t had my hands all over her body moments ago.

No woman had ever acted like she wanted to hide from me. It was quite the opposite, generally.

I liked this new game.

I couldn’t resist. Reaching out, I slid a finger along her cheek and smiled when she shivered from the slight touch.

She felt this…whatever it was that existed between us. I just had to find a way to burn it out quickly.

“I think this was a mistake.”

“No way in fuck it was. It was going to happen, and it’ll happen again.”

“Threatening me?” She arched a brow, a challenge in her eyes as her shoulders rolled back.

I shook my head. “No, I’m talking about living out those fantasies of ours. I still want to hear the ones you had about me, and maybe if I’m feeling generous, I’ll give it to you.”

She swallowed slowly. A battle raged in her eyes. I was promising her nothing but hot fucking.

I couldn’t promise her more than that—I wasn’t built for it. Not anymore.

“One night.”

I fought the urge to grin. “It’s going to take longer than that.”

The words were out before I could reel them back in, yet I didn’t resent them either.

“What are you thinking?”

“Through preseason.”

My half-hard dick was apparently calling the shots. No one ever spent more than one night in my bed, much less a month.

Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, arching into perfect points. “Excuse me?”

I was as baffled as she was.

I pulled her toward me then, her chest against mine, and peered down at her. She was so small in my arms, so soft against me.

“You feel this,” I said. “You know I’m right. One night is only going to make things worse. We need to burn out this attraction between us.”

She flinched for a moment, and I thought I’d lost her. I’d deserve it.

She’d essentially told me her guy had cheated on her, and I wasn’t offering anything more stable. Plus, she had to have known my reputation.

But after Serena left, I didn’t give a shit who I fucked.

“I won’t fuck another woman when I’m with you. You have my word on that.”

Because cheaters were worse than players. They were liars. I was as honest as they came, except for maybe with myself.

“A month.” She tested the words on her lips, thinking it over out loud. “I have a new job to start. I can’t be distracted.”

I’d assumed she was living off Beaux’s income. Fortunately, I was smart enough to hide my surprise. I wouldn’t ask her what she did. It didn’t matter.

“Tell me. If you go home tonight, and are in bed alone, will you be thinking of me? Running your fingers through your wet slit and wishing it were my cock?”

She shivered again, her silent answer.

“Take me up on this, Shannon. I think you need it as much as I do.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you just had someone use you and treat you like shit. I might use your body, but you’ll always have my respect.”

Her lip curled in that unhappy manner and I wondered if I had crossed a line.

Surprise ignited my senses when she smiled. “Okay. Deal. One month.”

I turned to unlock the door. “Let’s go tell Beaux we’re leaving then.”

“Oh no, no, no, no.” She pressed her hand against the door, her eyes frantic. “There’s no way I’m going back out there. Not after this…thing.” She waved her hand between us, and I smiled.

“This…thing?”

“Yes.” She gasped and tugged at her hair.

I was quickly learning that playing with her hair was her nervous habit.

“They’ll all know. All of them. The team…the women. Oh my God!” Her eyes flashed wide and feral. “They’ll think I’m what you think I am!” Panic struck her then and her palm went to her chest. “That’s what they’ll think of me. That I’m just some gold-digging slut, someone who spreads her legs—”

“Enough.” I pulled her toward me without thought and slammed my lips over hers. It was bad enough when I heard myself say the words, a thousand times sharper when she repeated them. She leaned into the kiss, surrendering and submitting like I wanted her to. Perfect.

I pulled away. “No one will say shit, and if they do, I’ll fucking handle it.”

“You don’t know what the women are like. How catty and vicious. Jesus, I’ve seen it before, heard it before, but now what they’re saying is true.”

“And none of their fucking business. Whatever girlfriend down there says shit, it says more about them than you or us. We know what we’re doing and that’s all that matters.”

“Do we?”

No. I had no fucking clue what we’d just agreed to.

“Yes. We’re giving each other what we need, no secrets, no hidden motives. Who cares about them?”

I sure as hell didn’t.

Before she could panic again, I threw the bathroom door open and pulled her out of it. “Go downstairs and out the front door. I’ll go talk to Beaux.”

“No. Just…let’s go. I’ll text him so he doesn’t worry. Tell him I’ll be home later.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

This was getting out of hand faster than I could stop it. My mouth kept speaking what my dick wanted.

“I have to be at work early,” she mumbled.

I couldn’t remember a time when I had a woman on my arm thinking more about her job than the orgasms I’d promised to deliver.

Strangely, it wasn’t a hit to my ego.

“Early tomorrow,” I agreed, unable to hide the satisfaction in my smile. “Promise.”

“Okay.” She nodded and flitted her eyes to me, questioning. “Okay then. We’re good to go, then.”

She was trying to convince herself. If I were a gentleman, had any morals or values left inside of me, I’d ask her if she was certain she wanted this. I wasn’t going to force myself on someone.

Coercing gently, though…that was another matter. Not giving her time to change her mind, I pulled her down the stairs, weaving through the maze of hallways in Kolby’s mansion and out to my car.

It took work to get my Audi A8 out from the line of cars closely parked together, and not for the first time, I rued the day I’d sold my pickup in favor of a sports car.

Look the part, play the part, be the part. It was something my old man had drilled into me since I first caught a whiff that I could be good enough for the NFL.

Old and beaten pickup trucks screamed small-town hick, not athletic superstar.

Still didn’t mean I didn’t miss it, though—especially when the urge to go off-roading and mudding took hold during the off-season months. A man, a truck, a few beers…God, sometimes I missed it when life was simpler.