Page 35 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Yes, Sir.” I smile and drop to my knees as he threads his fingers through my hair. His scent, mixed with mine, his lust filling my veins again, and I eagerly cover his cock with my mouth. The steel hardness of his erection jumping against my tongue makes my heart race in my chest.

“Look at me. I want to watch you suck my dick.”

I follow his command and eagerly devour him, not minding at all that his desire mingles with my own.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he grunts and spills his seed in my mouth.

Once he stills, I expect him to collapse on the sofa or disappear. Instead, he pulls me to my feet and kisses me slowly and deeply as our tongues slide in his come. I wasn’t a virgin, but nothing has ever felt like this. Orgasms aren’t something that happens to me. At least not during sex. And to respond to him like this? It doesn’t make any sense. His tongue strokes mine, making my toes curl.

“Turn around.” He spins me around and braces my hands on the back of the sofa. “I’m not done with you.” He drops to his knees, spreads my legs wider, and devours me until I scream his name while tears slide down my cheeks.

Holy hell. What in the ever-loving fuck is this?

seventeen

GABRIEL

The Next Day

With my parentswatching Gino for a few hours, I wander aimlessly around our suite. The place has grown on me over the last several days. I’ve never been into rustic charm, but the second Gino and I plugged the lights in, the entire living area brightened, and it’s impossible not to feel the excitement of the holidays.

Or maybe it’s the hangover effect of being with Norah. Touching her was an adrenaline rush that topped even the biggest football games I’ve ever experienced.

I rake a hand through my hair. I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve left it alone and never gone to her place. My intention was to apologize for my childish behavior and leave.

Bullshit. Your intention was exactly what happened. You wanted her, and you took her. But now what? She’s given you the perfect out. A holiday fling with no strings, and then–it’s over.

I walk to the lodge window and look out at the town below. It’s late afternoon, and the streets are mostly empty. The crowds will pick up again later tonight, and in a couple of weeks, theyclaim there will be people milling around at all hours of the day and night.

The Christmas festival. Gino will love it if we’re still here. Is it wrong to hope the doctor recommends another month of strength building before I step foot on the field again? When I booked this place, I expected to be through Christmas, and now, I could be back on the field in a couple of weeks. A week even.

Fuck. I want to see the place lit up with holiday lights and explore the charm of a small-town mountain Christmas. For Gino, of course. He’ll love it, but he loves everything. The smile that curves up my cheeks solidifies it. At the very least, we’ll remain here through the festival’s opening week so he can experience everything.

My phone rings. It’s Gunner Sinclair. After greeting each other, he asks, “How’s the recovery coming?”

“Good, man. I feel great.” I blink and realize there isn’t any deceit in what I said. My leg feels good. My relationship with Gino is going amazingly well. He fell asleep in my arms last night in front of the tree as I told him stories about Christmas when Marco and I were kids. And Norah….

It’s a fling. That’s it. Don’t put more meaning into it than it warrants. Even if it was hands down the most intoxicating experience of my life.

“That’s great to hear. I heard you are due back in town on Monday. The guys and I are rewatching the game Monday night, and as always, you’re welcome to come over.”

It doesn’t matter that he watched the game on the flight home or that on Monday morning, our coaches will break down the tape so that each personnel grouping can study their plays. Gunner will drag everyone out that he can to critique the entire game before turning to focus on our next opponent.

Panic swells in my chest at postponing my flight back even a few hours. “I need to get back to Gino.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the entire truth either.

“So, you’re returning to Evergreen Lake?”

“Yes, until I’m cleared to play.”

“I bet it’s beautiful there this time of year.”

“It is.” But it’s not the deer traipsing through the woods or the clear mountain lake that fills my brain. “I’ve got to go. I’ll stop by and see everyone when I’m at the stadium.”

“Perfect. Take care and get your ass back on the field.”

“On it.” I chuckle at his command. Gunner is the best. I’ve played for other QBs, but none had his talent caliber or capability to lead a team.

The second I shove my cell phone into my pocket, I snatch up my jacket and keys and march to the door.

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