Dirty Player(18)

I’d assumed he’d brought me to the hotel for a random hookup, treating me like any random woman he’d picked up off the streets. His conversation and obvious affection for Frank told me something different was happening.

We didn’t stop as we walked through the lobby. Oliver moved quickly and with purpose, and when we reached the bank of six elevators, he pulled me toward the farthest one and slid a key through a reader before pressing the button.

The door opened immediately and we stepped inside, my mind still whirling with the quickness of how everything had happened. Had he checked into the room earlier?

“Frank’s been the doorman at this place for almost twenty years. Lost his wife to cancer shortly after I met him. From what I’ve been able to figure out about him, he doesn’t have much in his life, so when I stay here he drives my car for a few minutes before parking it in the valet.”

It was a really long explanation that didn’t answer any of my questions. Like, what made Oliver begin speaking to him in the first place? How did he take the time to learn all of that, and what had happened that made them seem so close?

It all contradicted his assurances of being an asshole.

I stared at Oliver through the mirrored reflection of the elevator door, too nervous to face him, too scared of what he’d see on my face. Yet as everything began clicking into place, I couldn’t stop the smile.

“Asshole,” I teased. “Right. You’re such a prick.”

His eyes widened and he stepped in front of me, pushing me to the back of the elevator without touching me.

His strength and his size made him immoveable in front of me and I couldn’t see around him to see the look of surprise I knew was on my face.

“Have I told you tonight how sexy you look in my team’s jersey?”

I was in jeans and sandals and an oversized jersey with Beaux’s number on it. My hair was pulled back so the wild curls stayed out of my face during the game.

There was nothing sexy about how I was dressed, yet when Oliver began trailing a finger along the length of my jaw, I felt like I was in a ball gown.

“You might have forgotten that part.”

He leaned forward. His hand on my jaw tightened and held me in place. “Forgive me.”

His lips pressed to mine, stealing my breath, and I clung to him immediately. It’d been days. My body ached for him immediately.

He held me against the wall with the frame of his body, and the kiss changed from soft and seeking until he devoured me. His tongue slid along the seam of my mouth and pushed through before I could receive him, but I met him then, kissing him back and raising my hands to his shoulders so I could get closer. Deeper.

A thud sounded on the floor and then his hand was at my waist, pulling me toward him, ripping my shirt from my waistband until his hand was pressing against the small of my back.

The chime of the door and the sudden stop of the elevator made him jump and we separated, both of us breathless, his dark hazel eyes more tawny than green. Mine were just as wild as he looked down at me, his gaze tracing every feature in my face.

“When we get inside my place, we’re going straight to my room where I’m going to spread you out all over my bed, taste every inch of your skin, and eat you until you’re screaming my name and begging for more.”

My mouth went dry and wetness seeped into my panties. Everything he said did that to me. He had a way of looking at me like I was the only woman he’d ever seen. Like stripping me naked and making me bare for him was his highest priority.

“You say such filthy things,” I whispered as he bent to grab the bag he’d dropped earlier.

“You fucking like it.”

I did. I didn’t argue with him about it. I wanted sex with him and his filthy words more than I cared to admit. Even when my sex life with Patrick had been at the pinnacle, we were always more of a one-and-done couple when it came to sex and orgasms.

Multiples in one night had been rare.

With Oliver, I knew the opposite with him would hold true. He wasn’t the kind of man to stop until he’d gotten everything he wanted. Lucky me that he seemed to want me.

At the very least, he wanted my body. My heart could take it. I had gone into this eyes wide open, understanding everything that was happening between us.

So I would take my screaming orgasms whether they happened in a hotel or a house, and hopefully I’d be able to deliver some of my own to him.





Chapter TEN





OLIVER



Her hand in mine, my hand on her skin, the buzzing of the door behind us, I was only thinking one thing.

Bringing her to the hotel room I kept during the season was as big of a mistake as taking her to my home. When this was over, I wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere to escape the memory of her flushed cheeks, wild hair, and her body splayed out wherever and however I wanted.

“You want that?” I asked, when she didn’t answer me the first time. I pulled her out of the elevator, walking backward so we stayed pressed together. Fuck. I couldn’t get enough of her. Seeing her at the game, cheering on her feet, her smile wide and unrestrained when I scored a touchdown had twisted something inside me.

The only thing I didn’t like was that she’d done all of that with Beaux’s number plastered to her generous breasts instead of mine.

“You want me eating you, sucking and licking your pussy until you come, over and over again? Until you’re so sore you think you can’t take any more?”

She nodded frantically, unable to hide her lust for me, and fuck if it wasn’t perfection. She had no motives. No hidden agenda. She wanted my dick and my body, and I didn’t give one shit if I was using her.

She was using me, too.

“Yes. Yes, I want that.”

I dropped my hand from her back only long enough to dig my keycard out of my pocket and slide it through the door. There were only two rooms on this floor and I knew the other owner.

A country singer whose visits to The Mayfield Tower were as sporadic as mine. We’d actually gotten drunk together one night in the bar downstairs and then, like jackasses, autographed our names onto each other’s skin with permanent marker.

My team had just lost the AFC Championship game earlier that night and Bethany had been plastered all over the gossip rags for screwing another country singer—a married one. She swore she had thought they were already divorced. The fact that they were legally separated never made it into the papers or the gossip columns, so Bethany and I had bonded over failed nights and shitty decisions.

She became a friend after that and I knew she was on tour, currently playing in arenas all over the western part of the country.

For once, I was thankful she wasn’t around to see my one-night stand leaving in the morning and that she couldn’t possibly hear us through the walls.

“So you have both,” Shannon said as we stepped inside and the door shut behind us.

“What?” I shot her a quizzical look.

She waved her hand out to the large living room. The suite wasn’t overly large or ostentatious. Two bedrooms with king-sized beds. A passable living space and a small kitchen. I didn’t need large and massive. I needed a place to fuck and crash on the nights I didn’t want to drive back to my home late at night, or when we had to get up early to leave for a game and I didn’t want to get stuck in morning traffic.

It worked, and besides clothes, there wasn’t a personal effect around. At first I had thought this would make it a better place to bring Shannon. Her curiosity knew no bounds. I was quickly learning that she didn’t need photographs and decorations to figure out who I was, or who I used to be. She saw enough as it was.

“I asked you at Kolby’s if you had a home or a crash pad. You have both.”

“Right. I keep this place during the season. It’s easier to get to the fields.”

“And to fuck faceless women.”

Yeah, she saw too damn much. Unfortunately, I was also quickly learning that she’d never be faceless. Her face and the memory of her would linger in this damn place and in my home long after the scent of her was gone.

“You need something to drink?” I dropped her bag and headed to the kitchen area that would be stocked with drinks and food for me. I didn’t cook when I stayed there, but I made sure I had other food to eat and protein drinks.

After a game like tonight’s, I usually downed a few of them.

My head wasn’t thinking about nutrition at the moment, but on changing the fucking subject.

“I’m not offended,” she said, following me. “I was just curious.”

“Don’t be,” I clipped, harsher than I intended. I saw the look of pain flash in her eyes. But it’d do her good. If she wanted to walk away, it’d probably be better for both of us.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

“You’re awfully temperamental for someone who’s made it clear what they’re looking for.”

Stunned from her flippant remark, I stood frozen while she walked around me and helped herself to a bottle of water from the small fridge. I took in the curve of her ass, the way the stupid-ass rhinestones on the pockets were like a homing beacon for my eyes.

“Get over here, Shannon.”

My voice deepened. My hands balled into fists. She had too many clothes on and too much sass in her. I planned on fucking it all out of her.