Page 55 of The Penalty

“That was smooth,” she laughed. “Forget how to use your hands?”

Hands. What hands?

Intense lust paralyzed me. Victoria Chase was wearing my jersey. Not one that’s sold in a store or online. My jersey. The one I wore during our final match. It’s much too big on her but fuck me did she look sexy. My eyes flicked over every inch of her.

Hair pulled back.

No bra.

Nipples erect, poking the material.

No shorts or yoga pants.

Socks.

I exhaled a ragged breath and ordered, “Turn around.”

Toying with the hem of the shirt, she turned slowly. “Like it?” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “The green is a little bright for my taste but—”

“I love it.” Her body. My name. “You’re only allowed to wear this from now on. Get rid of the rest of your clothes.”

“Oh ha, ha. You’re full of jokes.” She waltzed up to me, bent down, and picked up the water bottles. Her eyes traced over my body. “But if that’s the case, you’re only allowed to walk around shirtless in these sweatpants. What’s fair is fair.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“By the way, next time you fly to see me right after a game, please wash your uniform. This,” she pointed at my jersey, “was rancid. I had to wash it twice.”

“Kit.”

“What?”

“It’s called a kit.”

“Seriously? One of these days we’re going to get through a soccer-related conversation without you correcting me.”

“You know you like it when I do. And it’s football.”

She pressed a bottle into my bare chest. The cold felt good on my heated skin. “Uniform. Kit. Tie. Level. Soccer. Football. Nobody cares.”

“Want me to bend you over that couch and prove you wrong?” I warned.

“Maybe.” A sexy, teasing smile curved her full lips. It drugged me almost as much as the sight of her in my clothes. The primal, territorial part of me loved all the different ways I could stake my claim on her. Nobody else would ever see her this way.

“We should do something couple-y.” She curled up on the couch.

“Haven’t we been doing couple-y things since I’ve been here?”

“Things that don’t involve brain-melting sex.” Her lighthearted tone filled the room. “Let’s watch a movie.”

I laughed, sitting next to her. “Okay, city princess. What should we watch?”

“Nothing lame.”

“That doesn’t really narrow it down.”

“Fine. No remakes. Those are the worst.”

“Horror?”

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