Page 9 of Draft Pick

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes to focus on the item propped in the corner of the room. Either it was a weed-wacker or a metal detector, but of the two possibilities, a metal detector was only slightly less baffling.

Who are you, Starlie?Amateur songbird by night, lost treasure hunter by day?

I settled back against the pillow as the soft curve of Starlie’s luscious body nestled into the cove of mine and the scent of her shampoo — cotton candy and pineapples? — tickled my nose.

Mmm, delicious. Just like her.

I hadn’t planned to stay the night. One-night stands were supposed to be fast, furious, and emotionless. I was scratching an itch and relieving a need. We’d both agreed to no-strings-attached so why was I lingering in this bed when I should’ve been long gone before the sun even dared to kiss the horizon?

Hell, I don’t know. I knew that lying beside Starlie was the most peaceful I’d felt in years, and I wasn’t in a hurry to let it go.

Why would she have a metal detector in her bedroom? The mystery nagged at my brain.

What am I doing? Aside from complicating a situation that doesn’t need complications.

Get up, leave a scribbled note, something like, “I’ll call you later,” even though I probably wouldn’t, and then move on with my day. No one expected anything meaningful from a random bump-and-grind sesh. I wouldn’t be hurting her feelings if I bounced without making a big deal about it.

Yeah, hate that idea.

How had I never noticed how soulless one-night stands were?Good god, enough with the psycho-analyzing, already Alexander. Just get out of bed, write the note — or don’t — and slip out like you’re supposed to.

But I didn’t want to leave.

And I did want to call her.

Fail.

I closed my eyes, holding her close, soaking up the quiet of the morning, drinking in the borrowed time.

Of all the women I’d fucked, Starlie had the most beautiful “O” face.

When she came, her mouth dropped open on a tight gasp as her entire body went rigid, except for her left foot, which drove into the bedding like it was trying to run away while the rest of her was frozen with pleasure.

I liked it. A lot.

C’mon Alexander, what are you going to do?Bring Starlie home to Mom and Dad? Hell no, I wouldn’t subject her to their elitist bullshit. Dad would get that judgy look without saying a word, pretending to be polite to her face, but behind Starlie’s back, he would talk a bunch of shit. Mom would act supportive but then, in her way, would nudge Starlie out the door.

I was embarrassed to admit how cliche it all was —sweet, curvy girls weren’t part of the trajectory my parents had for my life.

The memory of that stupid dinner with my parents erupted in my head, unwelcome and unappreciated, threatening to sour the sweetness of the early morning.

If my dad had my football career mapped out already, my mother had my personal life planned. She’d already pushed a few sorority girls my way — all cut from the same cloth — and it didn’t matter that I hadn’t shown a lick of interest.

Everyone had a piece of my future in their hands.

Except me.

Except now. In this moment.

Starlie pressed against me felt right.

Damn, it felt so right.

My cock hardened almost instantly. Morning wood on steroids. Starlie stirred, no doubt feeling the rod pressing against her naked cheeks, and shifted, wiggling herself against me like a cat begging to be petted.

Ahh, hell, girl, don’t do that.

But who was I kidding? It was too late to stop what was going to happen — what I wanted to happen.

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