Page 30 of Calling the Shots

“Yeah, you wouldn’t want to lose a make-believe football thingy.”

“Football thingy?” I arch a brow, my lips quirking.

“I don’t know. Tournament of champions or something?” She waves her hand around in the air and I laugh.

“It’s notJeopardy,Gracelyn. You don’t know much about fantasy football, huh?”

“I don’t know all that much about real football, boss, let alone make-believe football.”

“It’s not ‘make-believe football.’” I air quote the phrase. “The football’s real, the teams are not.”

“Ri-ght…” She stretches out the word, nodding. Her hair bounces around on her shoulder, a sliver of skin peeking out where the roomy sweatshirt slid down.

She’s sexy as hell right now and every inch of me wants her. Wants to lay her down on the sofa right now and make her cry out with pleasure, come all over my cock.

“So—what do winning fantasy football coaches do to celebrate?” She twirls a curl around her finger, gazing up at me through a fringe of thick lashes.

Fuck me.

“I have a few ideas…” I inch closer to her, drawn to her curvy body like a magnet, the very air between us charged.

“And how do I figure into those ideas?” She tilts her head, toying with the hem of her sweatshirt, and I take a chance.

Closing the gap between us, I splay my hands over her hips and pull her up against me.

“Up to you, Firecracker.”

Her breath hitches, the apples of her cheeks turning rosy as she stares up at me.

“Well, Coach—I do believe a win should be rewarded.” Eyes twinkling in the glow of the lamp, she wraps her arms around my neck and presses her mouth to mine in a soft, slow kiss.

A kiss so sweet and tender it takes my breath away.

This woman does something to me, unlocking a part of me that’s been buried for years. I want more of her, need more.

Sliding my tongue along the seam of her mouth, I urge her to open. Rushing in, I explore and taste. She’s minty and sweet as she tangles with me, both of us trying to dominate.

Her hands rove over my chest, down my abs, tiptoeing to the waistband of my pants. My cock twitches, straining against the fabric, and Gracelyn strokes me through the cotton.

“Football must be really exciting,” she whispers and I snicker.

“Don’t think that has much to do with football. More to do with the woman I’m holding right now.”

She pulls away, one brow arched. “Nice line.”

“Not a line. Just the simple truth.”

A light flush creeps up the ivory column of her neck and I dip down, nipping at her earlobe. I suck on the tender flesh, and she moans softly.

“If I would have known this is all you were wearing, I would’ve come over at half time.” My hand drops from her hip to her ass, palming her cheek and squeezing.

I massage her ass, working the tender flesh. Trail kisses down her neck, licking along the smooth skin. She’s soft and sweet, like a ripe piece of fruit.

Snaking my hand underneath her sweatshirt, I cup her bare breast. “You’re killing me, Grace.”

She giggles, a sweet, melodic sound that has my lower body coiling tight. I roll her nipple in between my finger and thumb, tweaking the sharp point. Caress her full tit, then move to the other side and do the same.

Reaching down, she glides her hand over my hard cock, once, twice. With deft fingers, she unbuckles my pants and I hurriedly pull them down, kicking off my shoes at the same time. Dropping my boxer briefs and ripping off my T-shirt, I’m naked in point-two seconds.

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