Page 65 of How to Score Off Field

Instead, he reached over to hit the lights, pulled the covers up over us, and kissed me.

We kissed in the dark, not saying much of anything but not needing to, holding hands beneath the covers until both of us drifted off to sleep.

It felt good.

Not as good as my orgasm, but…

You get what I’m saying.

I can’t tell what time it is, but today is the day Drew goes back to the airport—this time, though, I’m not the one taking him. My brother is.

Grady, who Drew has barely spent any time with or seen, my asshole brother working the entire weekend or sleeping with some random girl at his house instead of being a decent friend to his buddy who flew all the way here.

Oh well.

My gain.

Chilly, I roll toward the heat.

Drew’s large body, sheets around his waist, beautiful chest slowly rising and falling.

My eyelids are heavy, but I can make that much out in the dim light as it struggles to peek through the blackout curtains.

Mmm, so cozy…

He’s so warm.

I turn so my ass is pressed against his hip, hugging my share of the blankets when he rolls, pulling me into his big spoon, resting his large hand on my hip. At least that’s where it starts—on my hip. Palm heating my skin.

My eyes stay closed, the late night keeping me from fully waking up. So drowsy.

So comfortable.

So warm.

Mmm.

Obviously we all know what happens next as I get settled into his big body, his hands big into roam because I’ve stirred him. Was it intentional? The world may never know, but there’s nothing better than a warm body—correction, a warmnakedbody—pressed against the back of yours, especially one attached to a beautiful dick that’s been inside you.

I can feel it moving, that dick of his, and smile into the sheets I’ve got clutched to my chest.

I move a little to let him know that I’m not entirely asleep but I’m not entirely awake, pushing the bedsheets down my body a little bit on the off chance he wants to begin playing with my chest. My breasts. Actually, he can play with anything he wants—nothing feels better than lazy, middle of the night, early morning sex. At least not in my opinion, and it’s too early for me to be thinking of other things that could be better.

My brain isn’t exactly functioning right now. I haven’t had my latte and all I want is him inside me again.

Do you blame me?

Lord, even in my sleep, I’m babbling…

Drew groans.

I can feel the rumble deep in his chest against my back. I don’t know if it’s because he’s dreaming or if it’s because he is waking up; both good things I suppose, the latter would be better.

I give my hips a little wiggle, feeling a bit bossy, even in our sleep.

A little wiggle, sheesh!

I’m not a total jerk and don’t want to completely wake him up if he’s passed out and dead to the world, but I also wouldn’t mind accidentally poking the bear.

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