Page 72 of Run the Play
“Because that’s where you belong, Rowan. In my bed. Inourbed,” he says, shaking his head. “And the mattress is better,” he mumbles.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I don’t want to leave. I just—I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I thought maybe you wanted a night to rest and not have to worry about me.”
“I’ll worry about you if you’re not here. I want you here, Rowan.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “This is where you belong. Wherever I am.”
“Including the locker room,” I tease, cutting through the tension. My body heats thinking about earlier.
“If I’m there, then yes.”
“I can’t stay attached to your hip,” I tell him. Partly because I don’t want to be controlled, and partly because it’s the truth. I can’t be next to him twenty-four hours a day.
“No, but if you’re able, I want you with me. Here, the stadium, at my sister's, at a restaurant, I don’t care. I just want to be with you, Rowan.”
I nod and smile, swallowing back the emotions that his words cause. “I guess we should get to bed then. It’s late.”
He stands without issue and offers me his hand. I take it, lacing my fingers with his. He walks me to his bedroom door and kisses me softly. “I’m going to go lock up. I’ll be right back.” He kisses me again and heads back to turn out all the lights and lock up the house. I was so engrossed in him, in us, I didn’t even notice. That’s not like me, but I guess in a way it is. It’s me with him, because he makes me feel safe.
Not just safe, but cherished and loved. I don’t need the words to feel the emotion in every touch, or with every glance my way. In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face. Stripping out of my clothes, I start to change into one of his T-shirts that I brought in here with me, but stop short. I crave his touch and the feel of his skin against mine. I keep the T-shirt folded on the counter, turn off the light, and step out of the bathroom. I rush to what I now consider my side of the bed and dive under the covers, pulling them up to my chin, waiting in the dark of the bedroom for Landry to come back.
The door opens, but I don’t see him. Just a dark image as he slips into the bathroom to get ready for bed. A few minutes later, the bed dips, and he’s sliding beneath the covers.
“You’re too far away,” he grumbles, and we both move at the same time. He hisses out a breath when he feels my bare skin. “What’s this?”
“I wanted to be close to you too,” I confess. “What’s this?” I ask, reaching out and gripping his bare cock, which is already hard.
“I saw the T-shirt on the counter. I didn’t know that you hadn’t chosen something else to sleep in, but even just the mere thought of you naked and waiting for me, well, that’s what this is,” he explains.
“Tell me something.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Something about you.” Here in the darkness of his bedroom, with his cock in my hand, I feel closer to him. I want to know everything about this incredible man.
“We used to have a dog named Roscoe. He died not long after my dad, and getting another animal was just another expense that my mom couldn’t afford.”
“Why haven’t you gotten a dog as an adult?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I guess because I’m on the road so much. I’d need someone to help take care of it, or boarding, and it seems like a lot to handle on your own. Kind of like being a single parent, I guess.” He pauses. “Damn, that must be what Baker feels like.”
“I’m sure it’s very overwhelming, but he knows that he has us.”
“Your turn,” he says, sliding his hand between my thighs, and stroking gently against my clit. I suck in a breath and center myself before speaking.
“I always wanted a dog. It was never allowed at any of my foster families. I guess none of them were animal people, but one day, I’d like to have a dog,” I say, barely getting the words out before he slides a finger inside me. “Landry?”
“Yeah?”
“Since we’re sharing, why don’t you share this with me?” I ask, stroking his hard length, gripping him a little tighter.
“You want my cock?”
“If that means you’re going to be inside me, then yes. If that means this ache that I have when you’re around will simmer, then yes.”
“Simmer, but not go away. I never want that ache to end, as long as it’s for me,” he says, pressing his lips to mine.
The kiss starts slow, but quickly turns frantic. His hands roam, as do mine. I can’t get enough of him, of his kisses or the feel of his calloused hands against my skin.
“Tell me what you want, Rowan,” he rasps, trailing kisses down my neck.
