Page 44 of Playing the Field
“I’m not even close to done with you, Gracie. So if you need a Gatorade or something, lemme know.”
She rolls her eyes. “So smug, soccer star. How about you give me a chance to bring you to your knees. Fair’s fair.”
I like her sass. But more than that, I likeher. Nothing about tonight feels like a hookup, and it surprises me. Making Gracie moan my name doesn’t feel like the endpoint; it feels like the beginning of a life I never fathomed.
It’s too much to process in the moment, especially when she props herself on her elbows and grins up at me, beckoning me closer with a curled finger.
“Yeah?” I tease back. “Bring it.”
When I lean in, she pushes me sideways, so I roll onto my back. She positions herself over my legs and dips a finger beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs, making me shiver.
Nodding, she swipes her finger lower, grazing the tip of my cock with her finger but leaving me wanting so goddamn much more. “If you’re going to torture me, just remember I can easily roll you back over and return the favor.”
“Counting on it.” I get one last look at her sexy smirk before she dips her head down and her hair splays out over my abs. I reach down and play with a strand of her hair, twisting it around my fist.
She works my boxers down my legs, going just as slowly as I did with her. She’s making me crazy with anticipation, and her lips haven’t even touched me yet.
I watch her assess my cock, which is standing at attention for her, saluting her as its warrior queen. “I’ll go wherever you want to take me.”
She smiles and wraps her hand around me, taking a long stroke down the shaft that nearly makes me jump out of my skin with a groan. A few more strokes and I have to tell myself ghoststories about rotten potatoes coming to life in order to keep from coming. I normally have much more self-control than this, but it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman, and she has me feeling something I haven’t experienced in a long time—the idea that tonight is something other than a flirtation leading to a hookup.
It's new and I like it.
Gracie lowers her lips and gives my cock a teasing suck, eliciting a deeper groan that I hope reassures her how grateful I am to be here with her and only her tonight. She’s more than enough, and it’s my goal in this room to show her that.
As she takes me into her mouth, my hands tangle in her hair. Her breath and her lips nearly send me over the edge, and I look down and marvel at this woman who told me she was nervous an hour earlier.
She’s not here to fuck a sports star. She’s real and smart and unpretentious and good. She’s everything I can imagine wanting. And not just tonight. Or maybe that’s my aching cock talking. I can’t imagine ever getting enough of her.
“Tink,” I gasp. “C’mere.”
She looks up and delicately wipes her lips. “Yes?”
“I want to come inside you. If you’ll let me.”
“Condom?” The breathless way she asks turns me on even more. I reach for my discarded pants and pray there’s a condom in my wallet. I’m in luck. There are two.
She nods and takes one of them, kissing her way up my torso until she’s straddling my waist. I pull her face down and tangle our tongues together, loving the taste of her mouth, loving everything about having her on top of me.
She circles her hips over mine, teasing me at her entrance until I can’t take it any longer. Then she rolls the condom on.
I grab her ass in my hand to still her and slowly push inside, making sure she’s ready to handle my size before I give her more. Her soft moans and deep kisses guide me and urge me on.
“Yes, soccer star…there,” she pants.
When I finally get fully inside her, I have barely a shred of restraint left.
“Fuck, Tink,” I grit out, needing her to know. “You. Are. Fucking. Everything.”
I think about baseball, my grandmother’s tulip garden, the unsexist pile of laundry in the Devils locker room. That buys me a couple of minutes to enjoy her tight, wet heat. But when she moans and tells me she’s already ready to come, my resistance shatters to dust.
I lose control inside her and we rock together, my hips pistoning faster and harder until I can’t stop. I curse, she screams my name. We probably register on an earthquake meter somewhere. It’s too fucking good.
And when I’ve given her every last drop, I lower my face to her lips and try to wordlessly tell her how I feel. I desperately hope she feels it too.
CHAPTER 24
Gracie
