Page 79 of Playing to Win

“Did you commission this?” I ask, turning to where Brooks is standing watching me with his arms folded across his chest.

He shakes his head. “Actually, Cady painted it.”

Right, his daughter. “It’s very impressive.”

I move to the opposite wall, lured by a giant canvas of an eye that looks like a photograph blown up to size. The eye is beautiful. A bright blue iris with flecks of gray and silver. The pupil is big, making me wonder whether the camera didn’t flash when the photograph was taken. There are no lines around the eye, only soft, pale skin. “This is stunning.”

I feel Brooks as he comes to my side, his arm gently grazing mine. “That’s Cady’s eye.”

“She’s a really big part of your life, isn’t she?” I keep my focus on the image, knowing my words seem peculiar and not understanding why I’m asking the question, except that I’m both jealous and awed. Such a strange mix of emotions.

“She’s my daughter, Iz.”

Just like that. It’s so simple to him. It should be to me too. If she’s such a huge part of Brooks, I should want to know her. “Do you think maybe I could meet her?” I ask, a small part of me hoping he says no.

“I’ll see if she’s free tomorrow.” He turns me to face him and takes the tie from my hair, letting the loose tendrils fall onto my shoulders. As he strokes his fingers through my locks and presses his lips to my neck, I roll my head to the side and close my eyes, indulging in his touch.

“I missed you,” he whispers against my ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

I slide my hands beneath his shirt, craving the feel of his firm torso and the press of his warm skin against my fingertips. “I missed you too.”

“I’d like to take you to my bed.”

I answer him by pressing my lips to his. There’s something about this kiss that’s different from before. Less frantic, sweeter, deeper somehow. Or perhaps it’s the way it is making me feel, as if there’s no room for anything more in my chest before it has got to explode.

He breaks our contact, taking my hand in his and leading me down the corridor to his bedroom. It’s much bigger than mine and has a large en suite. He lights up the room, then dims the lights. He moves to the bed and sits, tugging me so I’m standing in front of him, between his open legs. His eyes are fixed on mine as he hooks his fingers inside my yoga pants and knickers—fresh on after showering in the gym, just in case. He draws them down an inch and makes me hiss my next breath as his teeth and lips connect with the sensitive flesh over my hipbone. He tugs them another inch, then another, each time sucking and nibbling the skin he uncovers.

When my clothes finally reach the floor, I’m wet with desire and aching for more. Desperate to feel him on me, in me. He rises to full height and takes my vest over my head. He strokes my hair and drops the top to the floor, kissing me as he unzips me from my sports bra. Everything about his touch is tender, gentle, loving.

He hooks me up, my legs bending around his hips, then turns to place me down on the bed, lifting my feet to the mattress. The look he gives me as he bends to kneel between my legs is one I’ve never seen on him, on anyone. A look that makes me feel adored, cherished. It builds pressure in my throat and behind my eyes. In this moment, I can see, feel, and think nothing but him.

The emotion makes me cry out when his tongue dips between my folds. As he licks and sucks me, I go to another place. A place where nothing has ever felt as intense, as incredible. I fist the bedsheets in my hands as he holds my hips, pinning me down as he takes me to my climax. My mind goes black and I see bright spots as the most profound orgasm I’ve ever had takes over. I feel it in every part of me, every limb, every cell.

I am vaguely aware of the sound of foil tearing. When I open my eyes, and my heart rate calms, Brooks is above me, naked, his weight on his arms. I reach up to his face and stroke the coarse hair around his jaw, the soft crinkles at the sides of his eyes, the straight line of his nose. When I touch his lips, he opens his mouth and takes the tip of my finger, rolling his tongue around the point in the same way he just brought me to orgasm.

I watch his expression change as he pushes himself inside me, filling me completely, elevating me right back to the peak I just came down from. He moves slowly, purposefully, in and out of me, taking my breath with each thrust, watching me like he’s never seen me before.

I can’t take more. He fills me, makes me feel like an extension of him, overwhelms me. Breaking our stare, I wrap my arms around him and pull him to me, chest to chest, every part of us that can be touching fused together.

“Izzy, come with me. I need you with me.” There’s a tremor to his voice. His words are breathless, despite our going slow.

“I’m here with you, Brooks.” I want to always be with you.

With another deep roll of his hips, he lifts us both to orgasm. For me, an orgasm I know I will never come back from. The orgasm I will never forget.

He collapses onto my chest and I hold him tightly to me, feeling his heat, listening to his every breath in my ear, my heart beating with his.

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