Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(172)

His hands grab my ass as I moan into his mouth, and I gasp as I feel him start to physically pull me up his body.

“What are you- oh GOD-”

His mouth is kissing down my stomach as he drags me up his chest, pulling me closer until I can feel his breath hot against the cleft of my inner thigh. And then his tongue; tasting me, pushing thickly between my folds to tease around my clit and lap at my wetness.

I’m usually so passive and so quiet in bed, but that night, he ignites something inside of me. That night, I’m running my hands into his hair and holding him tightly to me as he licks me. I’m rocking my hips against that tongue of his; riding his face as he makes me come again and again on his tongue.

And I want to tell him that I’m not like this; as if for some reason I need to tell him that this isn’t something I EVER do. But instead I say nothing and just give in to the wild, animalistic fantasy of the single night of passion.

I’m moving down off of his lips, and it’s then that I let my eyes fall to the massive-looking erection curving from his chiseled hips and abs, and I swallow heavily as my eyes go wide at the sight of it. I’ve been with a grand total of three men in my life, and I can honestly say none of them are even in the same league as this man who’s bed I’m in right now.

He’s tearing a packet open and rolling a condom down over his thick length, and I’m both nervous and excited for this. But then I’m straddling his hips, and moaning as I feel him press against me down there, his hands holding my hips tightly as he gently begins to slide me down onto his-

The sudden buzz of my doorbell clanging through the loft apartment has me jolting out of my reverie as my eyes fly open with a gasp. The buzzer sounds again, then twice more.

It’s fucking midnight I hiss to myself through clenched teeth as I quickly step out of the tub to the sound of the bell going yet again. I’m wrapping my bathrobe around my wet body as I storm across the loft space to the front door, briefly wondering if any jury in the world would find me guilty for murdering whoever this is, given the circumstances.

I slide open the peephole, and I almost can’t believe it, even though really, of course I can.

Dammit; not him, and certainly not after what I was just doing in the bathtub thinking of him! But there’s Logan, standing there with that cocky grin on his face even though he’s holding a bloody-looking towel to his temple, and it’s almost as if he knows I’m looking at him at that very moment.

“Little help out here, Doc?”

I can feel the heat bloom in my face in spite of the frustration of having him actually standing in front of me instead of just keeping to my bath-time fantasies where I need him to stay; “What do you want, Logan?”

He cocks his head to the side and gives me a look through the keyhole; “I’m selling fucking girl scout cookies, Archer; what does it look like.”

“You live ten feet up from here, Logan, and I’m sure you’ve got a first-aid kit. Goodnight.”

He rolls his eyes at me; always so fucking self-assured, like he knows I’m not actually going to let him walk away in that condition.

And of course, he’s right.

“You’re a Doctor, Quinn.” He pauses and chuckles; “Unless you prefer ‘Medicine Woman.’”

Gee, never heard that one before; dick.

“Keep it up, Logan.” I mutter through the door.

“Come on, I’m a wounded man! Don’t you have an oath or something?”

With a roll of my eyes and an angry huff, I tighten the tie of my robe and slide the big industrial door open; “Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” I say it with sarcasm dripping from my voice as I arch a brow at him and cross my arms over my chest.

He grins, and dammit if he doesn’t still look sexy as all hell even with the bruise on his cheek and the cut on his lip bright with blood; “You really should, actually; I won.”

“What do you want, Logan?”

He shrugs; “I dunno, a band-aid would be nice?”

I roll my eyes again as I step aside and let him come in, sliding the door shut behind him; “I mean what do you want with me?” I look at him expectantly, my arms still folded over my chest; “This is New York; there are literally fifty-four hospitals in this city, not to mention walk-in clinics.”

“Guess I just come here for the lovely bedside manner, babe.” He winks at me through his shiner of a black eye and grins as he pushes past me towards the bathroom.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

He turns and cracks a smile at me; “The bathroom, Quinn. I have to piss.” He stops for a second, and his grin widens at me; “I mean, unless of course you wanna help.”