Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
He lifts a hand, cups my cheek. “I’m crazy for you. Just absolutely crazy for you, and I want you to be mine. No games, no challenges, no fake dates. All real, if you’ll have me,” he says, taking the narrative for himself and leaving the stranger play far behind.
My lips tremble, and I’m overjoyed. By the simplicity, by the honesty, by the complete break of character. “I’m pretty wild for you too. For real,” I say, then lift my chin in a request for a kiss.
He obliges, brushing his lips across mine with a sigh. “Fuck, baby. I fell so hard for you. I was terrified you didn’t want the same things I did.”
Melting in his arms, I swat his broad chest. “You’re ridiculous. Of course I do,” I say.
“I had no idea. You’re all I’ve got this and shit, and I thought there was no room for me in your life.”
“I thought there was no room for me in your life! Your last football season and all,” I point out, and we’re both laughing and smiling and touching.
“I want to spend my last season with you. And then whatever comes after that,” he says.
I’m floating, and I can’t be in public with him much longer. “Me too,” I say, then I kiss him—a tender, passionate kiss that feels like a promise.
When we break it, I say, “Hey, stranger, I better pay this bill and take you home. I have something in mind for tonight.”
“Tell me,” he says urgently.
“I’ll show you.”
A minute later, we’re gone.
29
NEW NECKLACE
Gabe
She shows me all right.
There’s no scene, though. Just my woman riding me. Her palms press hard against my chest, her hips swivel, and her breath comes hot and fast. Her expression twists in exquisite pleasure, and she’s close.
She’s so damn close.
I slide a hand between her thighs. Stroke her till she’s shaking. “So good,” she murmurs.
“Because it’s you and me, baby,” I tell her as my other hand snakes up to her hair, curls around her head.
We can play all the bedroom games we want. We can take on all the roles that suit us. We can go dirty and wild every night, but there’s only one reason it feels this good.
Because we belong together.
As her orgasm crashes over her, mine follows, taking me under and into this bliss.
After, I pull her close, kiss her tenderly. Then I brush her hair off her face. “I’m falling in love with you, sweetheart.”
She smiles. “I’m falling in love with you.”
Later, after we clean up, we return to bed together. In seconds, the dog hops up, sliding between us. “Gigi,” I chide.
Ellie laughs. “Gabe, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” I ask, on a yawn, content with the world.
“She doesn’t sleep on dog beds. She sleeps with me.”
I curl an arm around woman and dog. “You mean with us,” I correct her.
Ellie snuggles up against us and we fall asleep like that.
In the morning, I’m out of bed at the crack of dawn. I take Gigi for her walk, then return to Ellie’s home, where she’s padding softly out of her bedroom, stretching.
“I need to get ready for the first day at work,” she says.
“And I need to take off.” I look at the clock on the wall. “Training camp check-in is at two.”
Her eyes pop. “And it’s in San Diego. You better go,” she says, shooing me toward the door.
But not so fast. There’s one thing I have to give her before I leave. I reach into my pocket for a little white cloth bag. Myrtle gave it to me to use, reminding me a man shouldn’t apologize empty-handed.
“I have a little something for you,” I say, then hand Ellie the bag.
She peers inside and brightens. “I love jewelry.”
“I know,” I say, then I fasten the chain around her neck. My Super Bowl ring dangles on the end of it. “Looks like that’s exactly where it was meant to be.”
30
MATCHMAKER
Gabe
A Few weeks later
Best training camp ever. The guys are sharp. The rookies don’t act like privileged jackasses. Coach has me work closely with a couple of the new receivers and they learn the routes quickly, then play tight, intense football.
The way it should be.
By the end of training camp, we already feel like a well-oiled machine.
As I head off the grass on our final day at the San Diego facility, Coach calls me over. “Clements, nice job the last few weeks. I appreciate you stepping it up to help the kids.”
“Happy to do it.”
“You bring focus and talent and you give one hundred percent to every game.”
“That’s what the game deserves,” I say. No point in playing half-assed. Ever.
“Are you sure this is your last season?” he asks, with a hopeful note in his voice.
I laugh. I had a feeling he was buttering me up for something—in this case, to get me to stay beyond my last year. “I’m pretty sure.”