Page 24 of Rookie Season
Which we do have to do, but also, he’s looking at me in that way that still sets me on fire long after the first time he did it.
Inside our room, he shuts the door.
I spread paper, scissors, and tape out on the bed next to the basket of items and kneel on the rug facing the bed. I fish some precut ribbons and bows from my bag next to me. “I think I’ll do different patterns for each gift.”
Clay takes a pink ribbon in one hand and gently captures my wrist with the other.
“I found something to wrap.” He ties the ribbon lightly around my wrist.
“You missed one.”
His eyes warm, but instead of doing the same to my other wrist, he holds them together and ties another ribbon around both of them. His eyes meet mine, and I’m torn between getting this wrapping done and tapping out.
What are you supposed to do when the hottest player in the game is looking at you like you’re all he wants to unwrap?
“I figured between all the trying we’ve been doing, you’d be tired,” I whisper.
He barks out a laugh. “I’m not dead.”
My lips curve too. He’s a serious guy, so any time I can make him smile is a win for me.
“Besides, think I need to get a good look at what I’m wrapping.”
He lifts and turns me so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, my feet brushing the rug. The wrapping supplies are scattered around me. Next, he’s reaching for the hem of my shirt and tugging it up over my body. I’m only in my bra.
My shirt won’t come off my tied wrists. He leans over me and follows me down when my shoulders hit the bed. His lips skim along my collarbone, down over my breasts. His mouth sucks on one side until I’m writhing.
“You’ve abandoned the wrapping project,” I protest.
“I’m doing it my own way.”
He tugs my leggings down over my hips, dragging my thong with them. I’m bare, and he takes me in as though I’m everything he wants—for Christmas and all the days between.
Clay’s fingers brush between my thighs. I arch against him.
He reaches for a little branch of pine needles.
“What are you going to do with…?”
He drags it down my slit, and my eyes close. My wrists strain against the ribbon. He presses them to the bed. I’m already gasping when his mouth descends between my legs.
I want everything with this man. The world doesn’t know him like I do, doesn’t get him like I do.
And after all we’ve been through, we still have a lifetime ahead of us.
“You know my favorite Christmas?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Any one with you in it.”
7
SIERRA
“You get any?” Chloe asks when she comes into the living room where I’m on the couch reading a magazine.
I blink and look up. “Any what?”
