Page 33 of Touchdown
And smirking.
Until finally, she groaned. “Damn your irresistibleness, Saxon Powell.”
I laughed. “Sunshine?”
“Yes?” Her tone was exasperated.
My voice turned rough when I asked, “Are your panties still wet?”
She sucked in a breath but didn’t say anything.
“I reward good girls for their honesty, sunshine.”
When she answered, it was so quiet I almost missed it. “Yes.”
My body responded with a vengeance I hadn’t expected, and I had to shift my position and adjust my rock-hard dick to find a little relief. “Good, baby. I want them fucking drenched when I pick you up tonight.”
Ivy whimpered faintly. “Mean.”
“To be fair,” I replied with a strained chuckle, “my situation is a lot more painful than yours.”
When she spoke again, her voice had perked up, the little minx. “Well then, turnabout is fair play, Sax. I just might want to thank you for all these thoughtful gifts on the way home…with your dick in my mouth.”
Holy fucking shit.I nearly spilled in my pants right then.
“So think about that all day, babe.”
Then she hung up, and a grin stretched wide across my face.
Reluctantly, I pushed out of my chair and went to change my clothes for a meeting with our new PR rep. As much as I detested the media shit, I’d warmed up to it just the tiniest bit because it had helped me set a path straight to Ivy.
15
IVY
My gaze kept drifting to the life-sized cutout of the man who’d claimed my heart right along with my body.
Lorna wagged a finger at it as she walked past, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “That’s hilarious, but the baby is disappointed he didn’t send a whole tray of football cookies instead.”
“Or lunch,” Missy chimed from the front desk. “Between the cupcake, the cookie, and that helmet-shaped brownie, we might need to rename this place the Sweet Spot Salon.”
My cheeks heated as I remembered exactly how well Saxon found my sweet spot last night.
Lorna laughed. “That’s pretty funny since sweet spot is a football term.”
I rolled my eyes, but the smile stretching my cheeks refused to fade. “You guys are just jealous you don’t have a pastry fairy.”
“Pastry fairy?” Gloria repeated, laughing. “Girl, that man’s a six-foot-two mountain of muscle who could crush us all with one hand. He’s more like a dessert-delivering menace.”
They were all laughing now, and I couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Every time Saxon found a new way to tease me, it reminded me how surreal this whole thing was.
Just last night, I’d fallen asleep wrapped in his arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek. I still hadn’t decided which was more dangerous—his body or the way he made me feel safe in his arms.
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
Lorna sent me a knowing look. “Let her enjoy being worshipped like she deserves.”
“I’m not being worshipped,” I quickly denied.
