Page 63 of Rookie Season
Wait…not a shirt. My practice jersey. Downsby is emblazoned across her shoulders, and my heart skips a beat.
She turns, looking unsurprised to see me. “Hi, Noah.”
Is it me, or is there a twinkle in her eye? It’s probably me.
I slide my tongue along my front teeth as I try to control the urge to cross the space between us and tug her towards me. Hold her in my arms.
“Hi, Ally,” I say stupidly.
“Welcome home.” She narrows her eyes slightly, but that impish twinkle is still there. “Don’t you have practice tonight?”
Taking one step toward her, I step further inside the small room. “Yes, I do.”
I speak slowly, waiting for her to realize I need my jersey. But something in my gut, or maybe a little further down, tells me sheknowsI need my jersey.
She sets a pair of lacy panties down on top of her pile of laundry then turns to rest her back against the dryer. “You’re going to be late. Penn and Fisher already left.”
I know this. Fisher had a physio appointment before practice, and Penn had a meeting with the defensive coach.
“I guess I am,” I say, but somehow, I can’t really bring myself to care about this fact as my eyes dip down to the jersey she’s wearing, and I take another step in her direction.
Her gaze moves down to her torso as well, her hands tugging at the bottom of the jersey before those chocolate brown eyes meet mine again. She’s looking at me from under her thick lashes. She blinks once, slowly.
“Oh, is this yours?” Ally asks, the picture of innocence.
I take one last step so I’m standing right in front of her. Mere inches separate us. Her chest moves up and down with each breath she takes, and when she sinks her teeth into her full bottom lip, that’s when I’m certain she’s teasing me.
She must be feeling this same tension that I do.
“Yeah, it’s mine,” I say, not taking my eyes off of hers. Icould be talking about the jersey, or I could be talking about her. She can interpret my words however she wants.
A pretty blush covers her cheeks, and my eyes move over her face, taking in all the features I missed over the past several days. The slightly upturned nose, the full pink lips, her long graceful neck, that naughty strand of hair that’s always hanging down over one eye like it has a mind of its own. I missed her. I missed everything about her.
“Arms up,” I say, the words coming out like gravel.
She bites down on her bottom lip harder, her eyes widening before she raises her arms in the air, her movements lazy and unhurried.
I close my eyes for a moment, reminding my body to calm the hell down. The woman is fully dressed, and she’s likely wearing a tank top under the jersey, just like last time.
Even still, my hands are shaking as they move to the bottom of the garment and my breath catches in my throat as I slowly, carefully, glide the fabric up and over her body, then her face, then her arms, taking my time with her.
Without the jersey, Ally stands before me in only her running shorts and a cropped athletic top that shows off her taut, defined stomach honed from hard work.
My heart pounds as I clutch the jersey in my right hand, but I don’t pull back or move away, and neither does she. It’s like our moment on the rooftop last week, but this time she’s leaning towards me, and not away. This time she’s telling me with her eyes and her body language that she wants this as much as I do.
Bending my neck, I lean toward her just a little more, and when her eyes flutter closed, I’m certain she wants me to kiss her.
So, I do.
I close the gap and press my lips to hers. Instantly, she melts against me, closing the slight distance between our bodies and pressing herself against me. My jersey drops to the floor, forgotten, as my arms slide around her waist.
I tilt my head, trying to get closer to her, wanting to take our kiss even deeper. The touch of our lips sends a hot pulse through my body. Ally’s mouth opens for me, and she slides her tongue against mine, intensifying the heat. She tastes so damn good, better than anything I’ve imagined, better than anything I’ve tasted before.
A soft moan escapes her throat, and the sexy sound rattles my brain. I tug her against me and lift her onto the dryer in one swift movement, her long legs opening so I can stand between them.
Ally’s soft hands move between us under my shirt, and she glides them up my torso and pecs, torturously slow. I pull my mouth away from hers just enough to bring our foreheads together and enjoy the torment she’s putting me through by touching my body like this.
I missed you, I think to myself.
