Page 114 of Their Greatest Strength

“You’re gorgeous,” I rasp.

The smoky makeup intensifies the green in her eyes, making it difficult to look away. If I bothered to in the first place. It’s not the plan from now until I close my eyes to sleep.

She’s transformed herself into the woman Graham wants her to be tonight. The wife of one of the best players in the CFL, who likes to wear the fancy dresses and spend hours on her makeup. That’s not my Blakely.

It doesn’t change how gorgeous she is, though. In a dress or her favourite baggy sweatpants with the bleach stain on her right ass cheek, she still makes my cock hard as steel.

“Avery brought me the dress to the game. I didn’t know if I’d like it,” she reveals, resting a hand on my waist.

“Why not?”

She gestures from her shoulder to leg, giving me anare you seriouslook.

The dress is tighter than anything I’ve seen her wear, yeah.There are curves showing tonight that I haven’t seen before. And her ass . . .fuck me.

“You’re unbelievably sexy, Blakely. I’ve had a hard-on since you walked down the stairs earlier.”

Her chest brightens with a blush, and I bite down on my tongue when a groan climbs my throat. With every quick breath she takes, her breasts strain against the fabric holding them in place.

I’m too aware of every player on my team who’s eyed her for half a second too long and will be threatening them with long and painful deaths the moment we get on the field for practice Wednesday.

Keeping my hands to myself hasn’t happened at all, to be honest. Sure, we’re supposed to be putting on a show, but with Blakely, there’s no need for a show when everything comes this naturally.

“I’m scared my boobs will fall right out of it,” she says, pressing a hand to her cleavage. “It’s worse than the corset in my wedding dress.”

“We don’t have to stay much longer if you’re uncomfortable.”

She pinches the material of my button-up, rubbing it between her fingers. I picked it to match her dress and left the top two buttons undone on purpose. It’s only fair to tease her a bit after she nearly gave me a heart attack in her dress.

“You haven’t even asked me to dance yet.”

“Do you want to dance with me?”

Leaning up on her toes, she brings her glossy lips to my ear. “Your wife would love to dance.”

I grab her face and glide my fingers beneath her jaw, rubbing the skin while guiding her to look at me. She smirks, knowing she’s caught me.

“Who am I to deny you of what you want?”

She twirls, taking my hand from her face to rest between us. I step in front of her and guide us through the VIP section to theroped-off staircase. The two security guards nod at us and pull open the rope.

It’s louder on the main floor and far more crowded with gyrating bodies and the groups of friends screaming lyrics to try and be louder than the speakers. Purple, pink, and white lights roll across the dance floor, flashing one moment and dimming the next. The music playing is dirty, with heavy bass and a quick tempo.

I swing behind Blakely and tuck her against my chest as we cut through the crowds. She grips onto my arm, holding me as we move.

Sweat breaks out on my neck from the heat on the dance floor. Blakely keeps her back firmly to my chest, even once we find a bit of space to dance, and I loop an arm around her middle, holding her there.

Resting my cheek against her temple, I breathe in her vanilla perfume and sway my hips, encouraging her to follow my lead.

It takes her a few seconds to join me, and then she’s looping an arm around my neck and moving with me. I keep my hold tight around her stomach, not ready to release her just yet.

Turning her head, she brushes her cheek against my cheek and asks, “How long should we do this for?”

“Already antsy to get me home, baby?”

Her eyes twinkle in the bright lights. “Obviously.”

It’s impossible to hear people whispering here the way they usually do when I’m spotted somewhere. I’m observant enough to have already spotted the phones pointed at us right now, yet it still feels like I’m missing something.

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