Page 5 of The Long Game

I’ve dated other men since then. None of them worked out long term. My dedication to work seemed to have a negative impact on any relationship I’ve tried to start since those three days with Tucker.

During late nights at home, or sometimes at work, my mind wanders off to memories of tangling in the sheets with him. I wonder what he's doing or where he is, but I try to clear those thoughts as quickly as I can. If I can’t make it work with a nine-to-five professional guy in the same city of Chicago, I’ll never make it work with a distant NFL player who lives in Seattle, Washington. One who has women chasing him at every turn. I had made the right decision that day by the lake when I told him we should wait. Didn’t I?

The memory of what I said hits me all over again…

"I think we need to take a step back and think this through. You’re in college nine hours away, and I’ve got this incredible opportunity with my dad’s company. I think we need to stay focused on the dreams we’ve already set out for."

"Are you being serious? After what just happened the last few days? You want to go back to just being friends?"

"Let’s just see how the next couple of years go. After you get drafted, we’ll see where you end up. We’ll see where I am with the company."

Tucker pins me against the wall with his hard-as-steel body rocking into me. His lips move against mine, his left hand cradling the side of my neck; his other hand squeezes my butt cheek as he grinds his huge erection between my legs.

I should stop this. "Tucker," I start to say, albeit completely breathless.

"You’re a fucking dream, Lexi. I want to take you against this goddamn wall."

His words have me a little taken back at their forwardness. But my body doesn’t agree with my mind and it's responding in the most animalistic ways, pushing back against him to increase the pressure. Warm sensations flutter in my lower belly. My body remembers the way he feels, remembers his size and the way he knows how to use it. Every nerve ending is desperate for his contact.

My underwear is flooded with my arousal; my nipples are pebbling, and the abrasive rub from his bulge against my clit has me nearing my peak. I need penetration. The penetration only Tucker can deliver. Now, my mind is starting to fall in line with my body, which only means bad things. Bad,badthings.

Am I supposed to just let him storm in here and take me? Was this my plan all along? My brain is fuzzy but I’m sure of one thing. I have never wanted anyone like I want this man. Not before him and not since.

"You’re here," he says as he works his mouth down my neck. "I can’t believe you came."

He chuckles. "Not just yet, baby. You’re coming first," he teases, with a devilish grin.

My brows shoot up at his proclamation. He wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me from the wall, carrying me towards the bedroom door.

Once inside, he kicks it shut behind us, and the room is dark except for the lights from the city shining through the curtains.

He sits me down on the edge of the bed and pulls off his clothes, until I’m staring at a half-naked man in his boxer briefs. My breath hitches at the sight of him. He’s the kind of man who inspires chiseled marble sculptures.

He stops and stares at me for a moment.

"Tucker," I whisper. "What are you doing?"What am I doing?

He takes a step toward me, and his fingers glide softly under my jaw. He tilts my head up slightly so my eyes meet his.

"God, I’ve missed you," he admits with pure honest eyes.

My throat tightens at his confession and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I’ve missed him, too. So much.

"I don’t know why it’s taken this long to get you but there’s six years’ worth of fantasies I need to live out with you tonight." He pauses and studies my frozen state.

"Do you want me, Lexi?"

What a loaded question.

"Tucker."

"Yeah?" He shifts his attention to my eyes.

"I came here with zero expectations. I want you to know that."

"I know. You were hoping though, right?" Unable to help myself, I nod, the desperate need for him, mixed with the idea of being in Tucker’s fantasies all these years later – I know now why I came here. We had unfinished business, and we both feel it.

"Good." He reaches for the hem of my shirt, watching for my consent, which I give by lifting my hands above my head.

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