Dirty Player(15)

The thrill of victory burst in my chest, and I couldn’t stop my grin. “I made you sore?”

She nodded.

“I made you hurt in a way that will make you remember yesterday and last night.”

She cleared her throat. “And early into the morning, yes.”

“Do your hips ache? Does your pussy hurt?”

She looked away from me then, the pink spreading to her throat and chest. “Don’t be so vulgar.”

“You have to know that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Not that I’d done it. We’d been wild. Hell, my dick was sore, too. Not so sore I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—go again, but she’d drained me dry.

“You say things to me that I think should gross me out.”

“But they don’t.” I pulled her to me, my hand at her hip. “And that’s why this will work. You like my filthy words. You like that they turn you on. This next month…you get to enjoy whatever the fuck you want to do, knowing you have someone willing to do whatever you want.”

“And you? What do you get?”

“Someone who gets off on doing whatever I want.”

Her pulse jumped into her throat and she swallowed. For a moment I thought she was going to take me up on the idea I’d had about waking her up. I could use a shower, and a long, relaxing one would do my tight muscles some good before I had to get to the stadium.

“I should go,” she whispered, pulling away.

The rumble of Lee’s engine echoed in the distance, growing closer.

She turned her eyes to me. “Who’s that?”

“Lee.” I pulled off my work gloves and tossed them on a nearby shelf. “He helps with my horses during the season.”

“And off season?”

“I do it.”

She didn’t hide her surprise. “You? All of this land? The work in the barn and the horses?”

I couldn’t hide my scowl. Or the fact my next words fell with disdain. “Not all of us can tour the country in party buses.”

It was what Beaux had done last summer, and the summer before. The day the season ended, he’d hopped into a tricked-out RV, gathered friends from wherever, and took off. Last year there’d been an Instagram feed devoted solely to “Where’s Hale?”

Shannon stiffened at the comment. I didn’t take it back. Seemed as if I wasn’t the only one underestimating a person, and I didn’t care enough to apologize.

“Hey, Ollie,” Lee shouted as he climbed out of the truck. He took in Shannon’s messed and unruly appearance without hiding the surprise on his face. “Hello,” he said, walking directly toward her. “I’m Lee. Powell’s caretaker. And you are?”

“Leaving,” Shannon whispered. Her angry burning eyes flashed to me. “I’m leaving soon.”

Lee tipped his hat in her direction and wished her a good day, giving me a scathing look as he passed.

“If you give me a few minutes to change and grab my workout bag, I’ll get you home.”

She cleared her throat. “I’ll wait for you by the car.”

She walked away to the fence as Lee guided Ralph out to the paddock. There, he saddled him. Ralph would roam the circle for a while before Lee would come back out and give him his morning ride.

I tried not to look back this time, but when I reached the door to my house, I couldn’t help but watch Ralph canter over to Shannon and nudge her hand with his nose.

I went inside and kicked off my work clothes, threw on a clean outfit, and washed the smell of horseshit off my hands before I walked back out to the car.

Shannon was still at the fence, arms folded on the top rung when I approached. Her smile was soft as she watched Lee ride Ralph in circles but never leave the pen.

“He’s older than the others,” she said.

“Almost sixteen. An old man in horse years.”

She said nothing then before she turned to me. “You’re nothing like I thought you’d be.”

“I’m exactly what you thought I’d be,” I said, warning her.

I was the playboy she had read about. I used women. I bent them to my will before I tossed them aside. I couldn’t stand immaturity on the field and had no problems letting a ref know when he’d made a shitty call. I was the asshole she was expecting.

“Don’t let the horses fool you,” I said, dropping my voice. “I’m worse than anything you read about.”

She smiled, reached up, and stroked my unshaven cheek. “Okay, Oliver. Ready to take me to Beaux’s?”

No. That soft touch stirred something inside of me. It stretched and glided inside my gut. It woke up parts of me I’d long since put to sleep. “Sure.”

I walked next to her as we moved back to my car, my hands at my sides and not holding on to her.

She unsettled me. Saw things she shouldn’t. Knew things she couldn’t.

Distance helped me regain my bearings when we climbed into the car and I pulled out, taking back country roads where I could push the mettle of the Audi without fear of traffic or cops.



***



The drive back into the city was mostly quiet. The radio volume was turned down so we could talk over it, but we didn’t say much.

Next to me, Shannon curled a strand of hair around her finger before letting it pop back. She did it repeatedly, her other finger tapping along to the music on the side of her door.

She was fidgety and nervous, and there wasn’t much to say to make her feel better. I wondered if she was regretting the night, changing her mind about our agreement.

That she might actually do it made me keep quiet for most of the drive. I didn’t want to hear her say that yes, she regretted it. No, she didn’t want to see me again.

I hadn’t had repeats in my bed in years, but this girl…she was proving herself different from all the others.

So far, she’d challenged me. She’d shocked the hell out of me, and she’d made me shoot my brain out through my dick.

She impressed me at every turn, which was what finally made me speak as she quietly gave me directions to Beaux’s as we got closer.

“Where do you work?” I asked, breaking another long stretch of silence. I shouldn’t have cared. Yet I already knew her answer wasn’t going to be cheerleader or assistant or wannabe model/actress, like most of the women I met.

Shannon had a depth to her, a seriousness that hid her playful side. Somehow, I wanted to dig through all of it and explore every side of her—the sweet and shy and easily embarrassed to the dirtiest places she imagined.

“Stamped. It’s an internet-based business.”

“What?”

Her lips twisted and her finger went back to her hair. Twist, pull, spring.

“I have my own business. It’s nothing too exciting. I make metal jewelry, stamping it into the shape I want it. So it’s called Stamped.”

My interest was piqued along with my irritation. She had to leave my house before fucking to go make jewelry?

“You only sell it online?”

She hesitated a moment before answering. When she did, she turned to me and I saw a spark of fear, maybe excitement, before her hesitancy took over. “I’ve done that for years, but Beaux leased a building for me in the arts district. Said he wanted to help my dream come true like I’d always done for him. I’ve spent the week cleaning the building along with the apartment I’ll move into as soon as I can get my stuff from home.”

She frowned and looked out the window.

“There’s a street fair coming up next week I’ve been getting ready for. I have no idea how busy it is, how many customers I could get, but I’ve barely slept while trying to get everything prepared.” She pointed to a corner. “Turn here. His place is the second on the left.”

I skipped the turn, and she shot me a look. “I’m just driving around the block so you don’t have to cross the street when I let you out.” I knew these streets. The row of brownstones didn’t have parking except in alleys behind them, and parallel parking was a bitch.

“Oh.” That sweet blush hit her cheeks. “Thank you.”

My fingers twisted around the steering wheel. “You coming to the game this week?”

She turned to me then and grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

It was the first time I’d seen her seem truly free since I’d met her. Her pride in her brother seeped out of every one of her pores, almost making her shine.

It made me feel like an asshole for being rude to her about him.

I quickly pulled around the corner and placed my hand over hers before she could get out. That heat that was always between us grew and inflamed in the cool car.

I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to me, holding her steady as my lips pressed against hers. She opened for me immediately, her tongue seeking mine, and it wasn’t just me kissing her…but her kissing me back. She wasn’t just taking it, allowing it…she wanted it.

I swallowed her soft whimper and pulled back before I had the overwhelming desire to fuck her in my car.

Honesty spilled from me before I could stop it. I blamed the sexy-as-hell kiss and her soft, pouty lips. “I had a good time with you.”

She licked her lips before answering. “Me too. But I should go.”

She turned to open the door, and something about the moment—her hesitance in wanting me while she made it obvious—had me reaching out to her, the only way I knew I could get her attention.