Page 40 of The Sweet Spot

“You can’t come here, Deacon. My roommate is home, and I’m pretty sure she’s banging one of your players in her room.” Grace and I are definitely rocking the whole don’t ask, don’t tell philosophy at the moment.

The difference is Grace is avoiding confirming or denying she’s dating her sister’s new brother-in-law, whereas I’m banging his new coach.

I’m so screwed.

“I have ways of finding you, baby” he warns.

My body heats.

“Are you listening to me? Ares Wilder is sleeping in the room next to mine. You can’t come here.” I shake my head as my frustration builds, and the walls that were so easily fortified only a few days ago already start to crumble because I want him to be here. Screw the consequences.

“My place or yours, red. Choice is yours.”

“Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.” I lie flat on my back and move the phone, giving Deacon an incredible angle of my boobs. Maybe I’m a little evil, but the growl that leaves him is my new favorite sound.

“Oh, you have a choice. Make me hunt down your address and it will be days before I let you come again.”

My breath catches in my throat.

“And the other option?” I whisper as I bend my knees and press my thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“Oh, baby. Give me your address, and I’ll show you.”

This man is going to destroy all my walls.

I just hope, in the end, I’m not the one destroying him.

The quiet condo is bathed in darkness when Deacon texts, letting me know he’s outside my door. I tiptoe past Gracie’s quiet room and offer up a silent prayer that my friend and her man don’t decide to get a midnight snack right now. This is such a bad idea, but like a sweet addiction I can’t control, I need my next hit more than my next breath, and Deacon Kane is my drug of choice.

I fluff my hair and fix my boobs, so they sit high in my cropped tank, then open the door. Any hesitation I may have had is washed away in an instant as a sudden, overwhelming need engulfs me. Deacon’s dark blue eyes run over my body, like a heavy hand skimming every curve. “Jesus, red. You’re a fucking masterpiece.”

He steps inside the foyer, and we reach at the same time.

His knees bend, and his hands clasp my face as the kiss happens, hard and fast.

Two people desperate for one another.

His tongue invades my mouth, and my hands shove under his shirt, frantic to feel the warmth of his skin. Deacon slides one hand under my ass and lifts me off my feet as he carries me to the couch.

“Deacon...” I pull my mouth from his. “What are you doing. My room is the first one down the hall. The door is open,” I whisper. “But please be quiet. This isn’t how I want you to meet Grace and Ares.”

“This room is farther away from your roommate, isn’t it?” He sits down with me in his lap and drags his lips around the shell of my ear. “I thought your Grace was doing my player on the down-low. How do you know it’s him?”

There’s no holding back my laugh. “Doing your player?”

He runs his hands up my ribs, under my tank then palms my breasts with his deliciously callused palms. “I don’t give a fuck about where any of my players are sleeping right now, red. I haven’t seen you in days, and you answer your door dressed like every fucking teenage fantasy I ever had come to fucking life... You can’t honestly expect me to give a flying fuck about anyone but you right now.”

I pull off his backward Boston U hat and toss it to the side table, so I can run my fingers through his dark hair. “I missed you too, Coach.”

I reach into Deacon’s sweatpants and fist his cock, then push his pants down, frantic for his weight against me. Dying for him.

We’re a ticking timebomb, just waiting for the fuse to burn down so it detonates around us both.

Deacon drags my tank over my head and spreads his palm between my shoulder blades as he settles between my legs and drags his cock along my sex, wrenching a needy cry from my throat.

“Don’t play with me, Deacon... I need you.”

His lips capture mine tenderly as he pushes up agonizingly slow while I slide down his cock, taking him inside me. “You’ve got me,” he swears against my lips as he pulls out, just enough to leave me desperate for more, before slamming me back down on him. “You’ve got all of me in a way I never thought would be possible.” His hands are everywhere as his mouth covers mine. “Completely, red.”

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