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Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(47)

By:Aubrey Irons


My cock throbs in my pants as I roar back through downtown LA towards the hills, my mind on one, single thing.

I’m going to have her begging for it, and that’s a promise.





22





Austin




The house is dark, but there’s the faint sound of music from upstairs.

Where’s my wife.

I can’t stop saying it. It’s like there’s something possessive about the way it sounds that pulls at something primal and something caveman inside of me.

I follow the music up the stairs, hearing it get louder and louder as I make my way down the hallway towards her bedroom door. There’s no plan here, only this burning, roaring need to bring this whole thing to a head, right here and right now.

No more games. No more using this idea of us being employer and employee as this absurd excuse to deny the obvious magnetic pull between us.

I pause just outside her door, the sound of loud, raucous country music blasting from her room.

I grin. None of that obnoxious club music, no bullshit light beer, and no clingy club-skanks with their hands all over me.

Looks like the party was right here all along.

I grin as I twist the knob and swing the door wide open.

I freeze at the sight of Natalie, standing right there in the middle of the room.

Totally. Fucking. Naked.

She shrieks instantly, jumping away and snatching at the covers on her bed, which only has the effect of presenting her perfect, sweet little peach of an ass to me.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

She whirls back to me, holding a sheet to her body as she reaches over and turns down the music. She glares at me. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“Yeah, but I’m seriously inclined to skip it from now on.”

Her face goes bright red and she glares at me again. “Well?” she says indignantly.

I grin as I lean against the door frame, my eyes hungrily taking in the scene in front of me. “I mean, it’s nothing I haven’t seen bef-”

“Would you please look away?” She groans, shooting me a look.

“No.”

The room goes still as her eyes go wide. There’s country music playing softly in the background, a warm breeze coming in through the double doors from the terrace, and damn if I can’t stop staring at how fucking beautiful she is.

We stand there for a moment, both of us glaring at the other, our eyes saying all the shit the silence isn’t. There’s a flush to her cheeks and something she clearly wants to say hanging on her lips.

But we say nothing at all.

I can feel the blood and beast roaring inside as I move into the room, my eyes locked on her standing there as I step towards her.

“You can’t just come in here,” she says softly, still holding that sheet to her flawless, nude body.

“It’s my house.”

Her lip quivers. “Well it’s my room.”

I take another step towards her, my eyes never leaving hers. I watch as she rakes her teeth across her bottom lip, and that small little gesture gets my cock throbbing hard as stone.

“What do you want.”

“I just wanted to say goodnight to my wife.” I watch her chest rise and fall with her breath.

“Where were you.”

I grin. “Hey, just like a real married couple.”

Her cheeks flush and she drops her chin down to hide the small smile there.

“I was at a club with some friends.”

She looks up, her eyes flashing something she’s clearly trying to hide, and I keep going, because I have to push this.

I have to push her.

“Just some drinks, some dancing.” I pause. “Some girls.”

I can watch the fire blaze up in her bright blue eyes when I say it, her whole body tensing as she bristles.

“Good thing we’re not a real couple or you might just be jealous.”

She swallows quickly and nods icily. “Good thing.”

I step closer.

“You said goodnight, you can go now,” she says quietly, her eyes flitting across mine and her perfect pink lips pursed like a thin white line across her face.

I’m rapidly approaching the point of no return here. She’s standing there like a fucking goddess, chewing on her lip, her eyes flashing fire at me, and her pulse beating quickly in the hollow of her neck. I can see the hard nubs of her nipples poking teasingly out from the sheet in front of her chest.

“Not yet I didn’t.”

“Well say it.”

Jesus, I want her. I mean I really want her - her as in all of her, not just her body, as much as I want that.

And it scares the shit out of me.

I want every single inch of her, her present and her past. I want to know her better than anyone has before. And I want her because she’s not throwing herself at me - because she’s at no point ever wanted me for what people think I should be from the media bullshit and the hype surrounding me.