Page 8 of Learn the Play
“That.” I nod.
He chuckles. “You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate with my answer.
His lips press to the corner of my mouth before he drops his hands. “Unlock the door, Bellamy.” His voice is gritty with desire, and my panties are ruined.
I do as he says and turn, giving him my back. My hands tremble as I swipe the keycard and push open the door. I’m not scared. I’m turned on.
Once we’re in the room, the door closes behind us with an audible click. Reid turns the lock. I face him and find him leaning with his back against the door. “What’s wrong? Change your mind?” I tease.
He reaches down and grips his hard cock through his pants. “Never,” he assures me. “Just trying to take this slow.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want tonight to end,” he confesses.
There is so much sincerity in his words that it has me swallowing back a lump of emotion. This man is not afraid to speak his mind or ask for what he wants. I barely know him, but I feel it in my bones that if he says it, he means it.
“We have all night,” I assure him, kicking off my shoes. Reaching up, I start pulling pins out of my partial updo.
“Bellamy?”
“Yeah?” My eyes collide with his.
“Strip.”
Chapter Three
Reid
Blood rushes in my ears, loud as thunder, drowning out everything except the heat of her gaze. The room is suddenly hot, too hot. Everything is still—the beauty before me and the breath in my lungs.
This wasn’t how I saw our night ending. I was just being a nice guy, enjoying the company of this gorgeous woman, but with each hour that passed, the thought of leaving her stretched my control like a rubber band, ready to snap.
Bellamy sucks in a heavy breath, her chest rising rapidly with the action, and a slow, sexy smile tugs at her lips. “If I’m getting naked, so are you.” She raises her brow, as if she’s daring me to challenge her.
That’s not going to happen. The woman before me is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s more than that. She’s fun, open, and honest, and that’s something I don’t see much of with the women who try to capture my attention. My gut tells me it’s not because she doesn’t know who I am, but that’s who she is. Good to her core.
My hands are steady as I start to loosen the buttons of my shirt. Part of me wants just to rip them off and say fuck it, but the way Bellamy’s eyes heat as each button releases has me digging deep for my patience and undoing one button at a time.
With each button that is freed, I step toward her. By the time we’re standing just a few inches apart, my shirt is hanging open, my chest and tattoos on full display. Bellamy and those sparkling brown eyes of hers devour every inch, making my skin burn from her gaze.
Tentatively, she reaches out and presses her palm against my abs. Her breath shudders as she leans in close. My hands move to rest lightly at her hips, holding her steady. In a way, I’m using her as a crutch to keep me steady, as well. For the first time in my life, the nearness of a beautiful woman has my knees weak.
“You must spend hours every day in the gym,” she says, letting her fingers explore.
My cock aches as it presses against the zipper of these damn dress pants. “Something like that,” I admit. I’m not ready to tell her what I do for a living. In this moment, I’m just Reid. I’m not my job or my bank account, and it’s a heady feeling.
My grip on her hips tightens. “You’re wearing too many clothes. This coral color looks beautiful on you, but I’m certain it will look better on the floor.” I wink.
“It’s not my fault your washboard abs and all these sexy tattoos distracted me,” she says, tracing her index finger over a tattoo on my chest.
It takes Herculean effort to step back, out of her reach. I make quick work of discarding my shirt, tossing it to the chair in the corner. I don’t stop there. I work at my belt and unfasten my pants, letting them fall. I kick them out of the way, and finally, my fingers slip beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs, and I slide them over my hips, down my thighs, and they, too, get kicked, to be found later. Holding my hands out at my sides, Ipresent myself to her. “You can trace them all if you want, but not until you’re naked,” I tell her, as her eyes run over my ink, taking her time as if she’s cataloging each piece. It’s as if she’s staring into my soul.
“Bellamy.” Her eyes snap to mine. “I need to see you.” My voice is husky and filled with need for this woman.
The beauty before me tilts her head to the side. “I didn’t expect you. I didn’t expect this,” she says, gesturing between the two of us.
