Page 261 of Waiting Game

“Sure I do.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

She immediately softens. “Yeah, we are.”

“Anyway, I pull a mean draft.”

“I bet it’s all foam and no beer.”

“I’m wounded.”

“Not as much as my bank balance would be if I left you in charge of the bar.”

Grinning because she gets my bullshit and bats it outta the park like always, I drift my lips over her cheek and down to her jaw. “With how much publicity you’ve attracted recently and the auction all arranged, I think your accounts will be fine. FedeLoans suck for not giving you the option to buy out the debt consolidation loan though.”

A soft moan escapes her as my hand settles on her stomach—beneath my jersey. “I-It’s fine. I can afford the monthly installments now.”

“Just in coaching classes alone seeing as your dance card’s full.” She’s always had other students, but she’ll be slammed when we’re back in the city. “I liked being the teacher’s pet, though.”

Her laughter is breathy. “You’ll always be that, baby.”

After the fire and the stress of the past year, she agreed to take a few days’ vacation when I nagged her. She was ready to get to work as soon as the calls came in from that shout out in PSN News, but I stopped her.

Not only does she deserve a damn break, but my games aside, I want to spend some quality time with her before the madness of the upcoming year starts.

We’re going the whole hog for the Cup, and she’s not only rebuilding Chuck’s but has her coaching too.

As I nuzzle her throat, moving up to her ear, I whisper, “Wanna make a memory?”

She squirms against me, proving that she can speak ‘Cole’ fluently. “You said we shouldn’t.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Someone might see.”

“Naw.”

“You sure?”

I think about Poltergeist Abelman who sees all and knows all of the transgressions that occur under this roof…

“Positive.”

She arches her neck, exposing the sinews of her throat to me. As I kiss and lick there, fluttering my tongue over her agitated pulse, I unfasten the fly of her jeans.

Slipping a hand inside, I trace my fingers over her panty-covered pussy and find the crotch.

“I like this home—” I tap her slit. “—better than this one.”

A laugh hiccups from her as my fingertips delve under the fabric and rub her clit. “Don’t be sweet.”

“I’ll be dirty,” I vow, abandoning her pussy and running my nose down the front of her sweater where I rub one of her nipples with it before moving lower. Tugging on her jeans, I draw the waistband over her hips and lodge it around her upper thighs.

I nudge her feet wider apart. “I wanna taste you, baby.”

“Knock yourself out,” she breathes when I drop to the ground in front of her and drag her panties down next.

“You wet for me, Mia?”

“You should find out for yourself.”

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