Page 36 of Linebacker
Me: Wait.
Me: … … … What?
Me: That’s a presidential suite
Marshall: Sure is, and I intend on making the most of it. There’s a key card at reception waiting for you. You’ll need it to be able to get to that floor in the lift. I’ll see you in an hour.
“Hey, you okay here with Julia?” I interrupt Lucy.
“Sure why, you okay?” she asks, her face creasing with concern.
“Yes, I’ve got a bit of a headache and this rowdy lot ain’t doing me any favours.” I drop my focus to the front of my Longhorns jersey, and pick at the invisible piece of fluff that’s not there. If I don’t look Lucy in the eye, it won’t feel like I’m deceiving her as much. “I have something I need to do upstairs,” not a total lie, “before my next one-on-one session on Monday.” Already having spent far too much time inspecting the front of my top, I lift my gaze to Lucy’s face.
“Sure,” she smirks. “Make sure you’re all fired up, you know. Ready for them when they come at you hard.” The knowing twinkle in her eye tells me there’s no fooling her. She knows exactly what I’m up to, and who I’m going to be hooking up with. “Don’t worry if you’re out… of it when I come up later. I won’t disturb you. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.” She does an exaggerated wink, fortunately on the side that’s away from Julia’s view. I must admit, Julia doesn’t seem to be perturbed by Lucy’s strange, cryptic ramblings.
“Okay, well I guess I’ll see you in the morning. When I wake up. In the next bed.”Oh, shut the fuck up, Hope,I chastise myself, when Julia casts me a weird look.‘You’re making it even worse.’
“Don’t forget to take a couple of Advil,” Lucy quickly interjects, causing a well needed deflection before restarting the conversation she was having with Julia. “So, Julia, did you manage to get him to let you pop his shoulder back in, or was he being a total douchebag about it?”
I start to walk away, wondering who they were talking about, especially when I heard Julia add that whoever it was had let her do it while crying like a baby but then promptly passed out.
I make a beeline for the hotel lift. I know Mars said in the message to meet him in an hour, but I’m extremely conscious that I’ve been sat in tight jeans throughout the whole game, on a plastic seat. God knows how sweaty I am down there, and I’m not going to risk that it might smell anything other than fresh. Plus, although I’d not even thought about it, last night when Mars had been doing all those delicious things to me, I’m not sure how tidy everything is either. I know my arm pits could do with a once over.
The underwear I’m wearing is far from sexy too, but I have the perfect ‘you never know when a girl’s going to get lucky’ matching set of lingerie, that I’d dropped into my overnight bag before we’d left Billings.
As soon as I step into the room, and the door closed behind me, I strip out of my clothes, bundling them all up, and shoved them on the floor at the side of my open suitcase. All except the Longhorns top, which I lay neatly on the bed. The shower is hot, but not too hot that my skin will get too flushed. Turns out that everything is pretty trimmed but my pits do have a smidgen of growth, so I lathered up and run a razor over the skin there.
Dried off and feeling so much fresher, I dress in the royal blue balconette bra and matching knickers. The fabric is so sheer it looks like a haze over my skin rather than material. They leave nothing to the imagination. Instead of wearing my tight jeans, I pull on a pair of black leggings instead, they’re much comfier and less restricting. A quick reapply of minimal makeup, I tie up my hair exactly as it was before I’d hit the shower and I’m almost ready, looking as I did forty-five minutes ago.
You see, I don’t want to look any different, otherwise Mars will think that I’ve gone to a lot of effort to impress him. Don’t know why, but this is early days. If I get dressed up to the nines, then it’s like I’m purposely vying for his attention, and I don’t want him to get that impression.
Yeah, yeah. I’ve put naughty underwear on for the whole purpose of enticing him, and getting him all sexed up, but he’ll only get to see it if I decide that he can.
The switch from jeans to leggings? Come on, black pants are black pants when it comes to men noticing what a woman is wearing.
The alarm goes off on my phone from when I’d set it for one hour earlier while waiting for the lift to reach my floor, so I click it off. With my Longhorns jersey back on, I take a last look in the mirror, tucking a stray hair from my ponytail behind my ear before making my way out, all the while checking that no one is around to see me.
When I manage to make it to the lift, insert the keycard and press the correct floor, I let out a deep sigh having made it this far without been seen. I take in a deep breath to try control the nerves that are doing a highland fling in my stomach.
CHAPTER29
Not sure whether to knock or use my keycard to let myself in, I decide to do both; a quick light rap on the door and scan my card. Before I have a chance to push at the door, it opens.
He’s stood in the doorway, still dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but he’s barefoot and smiling at me like the cat that’s got the cream.
He doesn’t say anything, but his arm scoops around my waist and he pulls me into the room, quickly closing the door behind me.
My back hits the door mere seconds after his mouth covers mine, and he’s kissing me. Hot, demanding kisses, which tell me exactly how much he wants me. While his mouth devours me, his hands are everywhere. In my hair, fingers trailing down my neck, tracing the V-neck of my sports top.
“Glad you kept the top, but I’m disappointed that you’ve not got my number on your back,” he murmurs against my lips.
“That might be because I haven’t yet decided if you’re my favorite player or not,” I gasp breathlessly, shocked by his delicious assault.
“Believe me, Hope. When it comes to you, I sure as hell ain’t playing.” He nips at my bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth. “When it comes to you, I’m deadly fucking serious.” While he trails his tongue and hot wet lips across my jawline, and down my throat, sucking at my skin that covers my pulse, I hold on to his biceps to keep me upright. Heat soars through me when his hand starts to move, slipping under the hem of my jersey, his fingertips stroking over my stomach before cupping and squeezing my breast.
“God, you smell so fucking good. I’m glad you ditched the tight jeans and changed to leggings instead. Far easier to take off.” So much for him not noticing. Before I know it, he has the waistband clutched in his fists and he’s peeling them down my legs. When he gets to the ankle, he drops to his knees. He makes quick work at getting rid of my trainers, lifting my foot before flipping it off. Considering that he’s seems to be super eager to get me naked, there’s a gentleness about it.
“Wait,” I gush out, and he stops dead, still holding the second trainer in his hand. “The card for my room is in there, don’t lose it.”
