Page 167 of Waiting Game

“Like you have confidence issues.”

He graces me with another wink. “I’ll have them for you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Before I can continue, his mouth settles on mine.

I suck in a shocked breath, not expecting him to end our conversation that way. Though, from his boner digging into my stomach, I was shortsighted not to realize this was his intention. And hey, as a distraction, it’s working.

With his tongue dominating mine, he picks me up and settles my legs on either side of his hips. The new position has my crotch rubbing against his dick and I let out a soft moan at the delicious friction.

He grabs a hold of my ass. The pinch of his fingers feels unexpectedly delicious, especially as he uses his grip to grind me onto him.

My arms settle on his shoulders and I clasp him to me as I fight fire with fire and begin the battle for dominance—it might have started in my mouth, but I won’t settle until it’s my tongue inhis. But, the sneaky bastard knows my game.

Soft grunts escape him as I fuck his tongue while he walks us forward. I assume he’s taking me to bed, but then he drops down in a somewhat controlled manner—though I still shriek—and he plunks my butt on a less-than-cushioned surface.

Popping one eye open, I see that he’s placed me on the coffee table.

“Really?!” I watch him as he untangles his limbs from mine and gets to work on unfastening my jeans.

As he pulls down the zipper, he hisses when he sees the soft fluff off my pubes. “No panties?” he whines.

I smile at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wanted you to win.”

He snorts but slides his fingers through the neat curls. “Jersey, next time. And a skirt. That black one. The denim one.”

“You like that, huh?”

“Yup. Can almost see your asscheeks. But definitely wear panties.”

“Maybe I won’t,” I tease, watching his pupils contract. “Ooh, you like the idea of that. Someone in the stands seeing what belongs to you.”

“Yes.Mine.”

My smile is cocky. “You could even fill me with your cum before the game.”

He groans.

“You said all athletes have pregame routines. We could include that in your new one.”

His eyes close. “You’re killing me.”

“I don’t think so.” Lowering the zipper on his jeans, I release his waiting cock into my fist and stroke him, rolling my thumb over his piercing with every pass. “And when you’re away, I can leave you a little reminder of what’s waiting for you when you get back.”

As I clench down on his dick, hard enough to hurt, he grits out, “We’ll video call?”

“Oh, no. I think we should record something special for you to watch before a game.”

His eyes widen. “Are you being serious?” I know he likes that, not because his cock bobs in my hand, but because he pushes forward and practically climbs onto the coffee table to cover me.

“Deadly serious,” I agree with a soft croon.

“Don’t tease me, Mia. I’m on the fucking edge here.”