Page 31 of The Game

Dani worries her bottom lip, and all uncertainty disappears. She’s someone I can envision being with long-term. Someone who will understand my priorities. More importantly, she ignites a passion in me. A passion I can’t ignore.

“Come here.” I raise my hand and motion with my index finger for her to close the distance between us.

“Are you sure?” Her eyes are huge and filled with what I assume to be apprehension. Like she’s afraid I’m going to turn her down and tell her to leave. Not even possible.

“Yes, I’m sure.” One side of my mouth curves. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.”

“When was that?” Her brow wrinkles as she places her hands on my chest.

“The first day of training camp.”

“Shit.” Her head tips downward.

“You were so cute.”

She growls and rolls her eyes. “I assume you’re referring to me tripping over the reporter’s microphone cord and landing on my ass.”

“Quite gracefully.” I chuckle and run my hands down her back. When I reach the body part in question, I massage her flesh with my fingers and grind her soft belly against my swollen erection.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and her eyes darken in response to our closeness. I fight the urge to skip the conversation and destroy her. I want to appear civilized and in control – even though I’m not.

I’ve never had this visceral of a reaction to another woman. She’s like a force that’s weaving its way through my body – taking root in all areas.

“I guess if bruising my thigh from the hard ground is all it took to get your attention, I’m glad I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She laces her fingers through my hair. “Well, I was paying attention, but not to the cord.”

“What were you watching?” My jaw tightens. If she says one of the other players, I’m going to snap.

“You.” She grins and stands on her tiptoes. “Who else would I be looking at? You were the sexist man in the tent.”

“Good,” I growl and claim her mouth.

That’s all the conversation I can handle. I need to touch her. To taste her. To explore every inch of this amazing contradiction of a woman. At work, she’s all business. There is nothing feminine about her. But in my arms, she’s pure woman. Soft curves. Silken skin.

I clasp the hem of her skirt and rip it up her thighs. The concept of delicate is completely lost on me. She moans into my mouth, and my entire body zips with adrenaline. It’s a better high than any football game I’ve ever participated in.

My heart races as my fingers follow the curves of her belly and down into the soft curls of her sex. She whimpers and spreads her thighs in anticipation. Her eager response makes me feel like a king.

“Do you want my touch?” I grind out against her plump lips.

“Yes, please.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Don’t make me beg.”

“Sweetheart, you’ll never have to beg for anything.” I stare into her gaze as I slip my finger between her folds and rub over her tight clit.

Her mouth drops open, and she moans with each movement. I don’t break eye contact. I need to see her desire. To know she feels it as strongly as I do.

She’s beautiful. I slip my index finger between her swollen lips and dive inside her slick pussy. She bites her bottom lip and shudders as her pelvis grinds against my palm. The ease in which she accepts me and responds to my touch is intoxicating. But it’s not enough.

I add another finger and plunge into her hot depths. Our eyes are still glued to each other. They say people can’t hold eye contact for over five seconds without it getting awkward, but neither of us waiver.

It’s like riding a roller coaster. The one where you go all the way to the top and then freefall down to the bottom. She makes my heart dive to the floor, and then Bungee jump back into my chest.

I drop to my knees, and the holy grail is within my reach. She smells like vanilla and sex. It’s a heady combination. Does she taste as sweet as she looks? My t

ongue flicks over her clit, and she jumps.

“God, Gunner, yes,” she pants.

Fuck. She makes me feel like a God. I swipe my tongue over her swollen lips and feast on her wetness. With each thrust of my tongue, she moans her appreciation. As she clutches my shoulders, she spreads her legs wider to give me better access.

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