Page 3 of Run Game
I’m brought back to reality as a warm body plops down on the leather couch next to me. I smell her minty shampoo before my brain can even process her long raven-colored hair and deep brown eyes with perfectly curled lashes. I try to act like I’m not enthralled by every detail of her face as I angle my head toward her, taking in the slope of her nose that upturns just slightly at the tip like a cute little button. Hand to God, she gets prettier every time I look at her.
No matter how many times we’re in close proximity, my heart always skips a beat when Dia’s skin touches mine. I’m hyper aware of the way our arms brush against one another when she shifts her body, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
I want her so goddamn bad.
She huffs an annoyed breath before grabbing the beer from my hand and downing it in one long chug. “Thanks,” she says, sitting back with her arms crossed over her perfect tits. I try not to stare, but she’s unintentionally pushing them together and all I can think about is how good they’d feel as I slowly thrust my cock between them.
“Rough night?” I ask, raising a brow.
She scoffs. “Not yet, but Blaze and Mads are obviouslyoff to their spank fest and I was supposed to room with them.”
I chuckle. I can’t imagine the kind of shit that’s going on in their suite right now. If he doesn’t have her strung up from the ceiling in some sort of harness contraption, I’d be seriously surprised. I saw the look on his face when he left. Dia can’t go back there right now, and I know better than to suggest she room with me.
“You hungry?” I ask.
Her pouty lip curves into a smile. “Starving.”
I stand, reaching out my hand. I don’t expect her to take it, but she does, allowing me to pull her up. I’m not even shocked by the heat that travels down my arm and straight to my chest at the contact. I’m used to it. A couple months ago, I let her paint my nails in Chicago and I all but came in my pants while she held my hand steady. The effect Dia has on my body is unreal. I can’t explain any of it, which makes the whole situation even worse. She doesn’t want me. She’s meaner than a hornet most of the time, but every now and then, she smiles at me, and I forget everything.
I fucking hate it.
I’ve been with more women than I can count. I don’t bother dating because I’ve never wanted to be tied down or deal with the extra drama. I had a few girlfriends in college and to no fault of their own, I got bored quickly and wanted out. I broke their hearts. I decided then that I’d just enjoy whatever came with my football career. That included all the pussy that was thrown at me because of who I am.
Until the moment I laid eyes on Dia Spencer. She gave me absolutely no reason to think I could change with the snap of a finger, but I felt it. She’s the fucking one. And I’mpretty sure she hates me. No idea how I’m going to change that, but I’ll think of something.
Unfortunately, she pulls her hand from mine as soon as we hit the exit, the cool air hitting my face as we make our way down The Strip. There are people all around us, but thankfully, they don’t recognize me. As much as I love hanging with fans, I don’t want any interruptions right now. It isn’t often that Dia is this agreeable when it comes to me, and I want to soak up every second of it. I’ll take whatever she gives me for now.
I look over at her to find her eyes moving rapidly, like she’s trying to see everything at once. Between the people, the lights, the street performers, and the all-around fast-paced action, it’s like she can’t decide what’s most interesting. I can't help but smile while I watch her. “Ever been here before?” I ask. I can tell by her reactions that she hasn’t, but I want to get to know her better.
“No,” she replies. “I always wanted to, but it’s a pretty expensive vacation for someone who lives on their own and has a mountain of bills to pay.”
From what Mads has told me, after I begged her relentlessly, I know that Dia has been on her own since she was a teenager. Her parents aren’t good people and they never showed her an ounce of love or affection. I don’t know the details, but they dragged Dia into their legal problems, and she drained her savings for them.
I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I grew up in a loving home with two parents who bent over backwards to make sure my brother and I had every opportunity in the world. We had a calendar on the refrigerator that told them which kid needed to be where so they could‘divide and conquer’, as they called it. My mom would take Benton to hockey practice while my dad drove me to football.They made it a point to make sure we felt loved and supported, no matter what we chose to do. On the weekends, we’d do pickup games in the backyard with kids from around the neighborhood. My dad always played with us while my mom cheered from the sidelines. I have so many great memories from my childhood. It sucks that Dia probably doesn’t have any, other than the ones she made with Mads.
I slow when I find a hot dog stand on the sidewalk. “How about this?” I ask.
She raises a questioning brow. “Street food? Seriously?”
“Hell yeah, Wifey,” I reply. “I’m giving you the full Vegas experience tonight. These are the best hot dogs you’ll ever have.”
She scoffs. “You realize I’m fromChicago, right? The city is literally known for its street food. Nothing you show me here will impress me.”
Challenge accepted.
I step up to the stand and order two hot dogs, loaded with everything. I lift my chin, directing Dia to an empty bench by a large water fountain before following her and taking a seat. Handing her the hot dog, I wait for her to take a bite.
“Stop watching me,” she says.
I grin. “Why should I?”
She forces out an annoyed sigh. “Dalton, I was mean to you in Chicago the night Blaze came to bring Mads home and your dick got half hard. If you think I’m going to sit here and let you stare at me while I eat a hot dog, you’re crazy. I’m not about to be held responsible for your ill-timed boner.”
“Good point,” I say, looking away before taking a biteof my food. I give her and her wiener a moment of privacy, but when she lets out a soft moan, I can’t stop myself. Thankfully for my dick, she’s taken a bite and is slowly chewing.
“I told you it was good,” I say with a cocky smirk.
Dia rolls her eyes. “Ok,fine. It’s a little bit good.”
