Page 56 of Fair Play
It was all kissing and touching, fingers and mouths and cocks and pussies. Somehow, I managed to get her into the sixty-nine position, another thing she said she didn’t particularly enjoy in the past—but now it appears to be her new favorite.
I haul myself out of bed, wincing at the pain but pushing into the bathroom so I can clean up. Between being up half the night, the pain in my groin, and the meds I’m taking, I don’t look likea man who deserves to be hooking up with someone as beautiful as Billie.
Hooking up?
Part of me feels guilty for thinking about her that way, but what else can this be? We’re sneaking around because of Bodi, she’s more than a decade younger than me, and the chances that I’ll still be here next season have dropped dramatically now that I’m hurt. Why would the team keep me? They brought me in to add some grit and intensity—I can’t do that from the injured reserve list.
“Good morning.” Billie is a ray of sunshine as she walks into my bedroom. “I made breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Do you need help going down the stairs?”
“Nah, I’m okay.”
I hold the rail and take one step at a time, with Billie hovering next to me, and then limp into the kitchen.
“Smells good. What is it?”
“I made a breakfast casserole with all kinds of yummy stuff. And we can freeze the leftovers so we’ll have more when I don’t have time to cook.” She bustles around the kitchen, pulling something that smells incredible from the oven.
“Coffee?” she asks.
“You don’t have to serve me,” I mumble, slightly embarrassed.
She cocks her head. “You pulled a groin muscle and are having some issues moving around—is it emasculating for you that I’m trying to help? Or is this morning-after awkwardness? Because it doesn’t have to be. I’m a grown woman. If it was just a one-off, you can say?—”
Jesus, that’s not the direction I want this morning to go, so I cut her off by pressing my lips to hers. I let them linger until she winds her arms around my neck and I can slide my tongue in totoy with hers. She tastes like coffee, which I happen to like, and I let my hands drift down to skim her ass.
“Good morning,” I whisper against her mouth. “And no, this isn’t morning-after awkwardness. It’s also not emasculating for you to make me breakfast. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to. You wait on people all day and night at work—you shouldn’t have to at home.”
“Believe me, once your leg is healed, you’ll be on your own.”
I chuckle. “Deal.”
Now she’s more relaxed, which I like much better.
“How, um, how do you like your coffee?”
“A little cream, no sugar.”
“Same as me.” She makes two cups while I serve the casserole, which smells delicious. I see eggs, cheese, sausage, and potatoes, which is pretty much nirvana as far as breakfast goes.
She settles beside me at the counter and we eat in silence for a few minutes.
“This is delicious,” I say. “Thank you for making breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now, before you get your panties in a twist—there is something we need to talk about.”
“Uh oh.” She turns, her brows slightly knitted together.
“There’s no uh oh.” I playfully tweak her nose. “Why is your knee-jerk reaction to everything that something bad is coming?”
“Because when it comes to men, pretty much every single one of them was either a complete douche or let my brother scare them away.”
I put down my fork and meet her gaze directly. “I do my best not to be a douche, although my ex-wives might say otherwise. But your brother doesn’t scare me. Not even a little. However, not playing hockey next year does.”
