Page 85 of Defending her Heart

Warm heat engulfs me, and I’ve never felt so satiated and comfortable. I nestle into the wall of muscle behind me, and when a hard length pokes me in the ass, my eyes shoot open.

The fire is almost out and Nash’s house is mostly dark, except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. Shit. I fell asleep on his couch. Gentle snores and soft breaths across my neck tell mewefell asleep on his couch.

I’m naked. He’s fully clothed. And a thick blanket is wrapped around us. The events of the evening come flooding back. A fun dinner with Nash and Paisley. Playing games together. The two of us talking about nothing and everything.

And the orgasms. Two? Three? Four? They all blended into each other. And sex? Did we have sex?

This is why I’m here. For the sex. Not for family dinners or late-night talks. Or the cuddling. Or even the unreciprocated orgasms. One for one. Or at least two for one. That was the deal.

I can’t afford for this to happen again. My heart isn’t fully repaired. Even if I want to trust Nash and his intentions, I can’t help where my mind goes. Wondering. Worrying. Doubting.

There are two ways out of this tonight. Either I slip away, or I roll over and ride his cock. The first says I’m scared or a flight risk. The second says I’m here for the sex.

“You awake?” Nash’s arm tightens around my middle.

“Yeah. I’ve gotta get going.” Riding his cock will have to wait until next time.

“Stay?”

“I don’t think so.” I flip the blanket off us and drop to the floor, searching for my clothes.

Nash sits up while I get dressed. “Let me at least walk you to your car.”

Like the gentleman he is, he keeps his hand on my lower back and escorts me to my car. I don’t wait for it to warm up, afraid he’ll want to kiss me, but more afraid I’ll let him and not want to leave.

“Thanks for dinner and the orgasms,” I add. “I owe you.” I snap my seatbelt in place, close my door, and back out of the driveway.

I can’t let that happen again. Sleep. Cuddles. Intimacy.

My heart can’t handle it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

KENDALL

The team went into overtime and pulled off a win. My throat is hoarse from cheering, and I cheered extra hard for Dec and Miles. Just because.

I may be having sex—or orgasms—with Nash, but that doesn’t mean he’s the only football player I’m watching. We’re free to see other people, just not sleep with them until we cut ties from our sexual relationship.

Maybe it’s best to cut our ties now before I get in too deep. I hate how my go-to response is sabotaging this thing between us before my heart can get wrecked again.

If it’s not already too late for that.

“Finally, a Sunday and Monday off so I don’t have to stress about staying out too late and drinking too much.” Rowan finishes her third hard seltzer and tosses the empty can in the recycle bin.

“Row. You milked those weak ass drinks all game. I wouldn’t exactly call that cutting loose.”

“Says the one who sipped on water the whole game.”

“Uh, hello? Designated driver.” I twirl my keys around my finger and a burly hand reaches from behind me, snagging my keys from me. “Hey.”

I turn and bump into Nash’s solid chest. He’s freshly showered and wearing a black wool coat that’s unbuttoned, showing off a gray sweater that shouldn’t look as sexy as it does. But his chest would make a paper bag look good.

“You’re our driver?”

“No. I’mRowan’sdriver.” I reach for my keys and he pulls his hand back.

“I could use a lift.”

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