Page 80 of Most Likely to Score
“I missed you, too. Now,please, please. We’re going to be at my house soon, and I need this.”
I slide inside her, and I shudder. It’s unreal. It’s bone-shatteringly good. She grabs my neck, pulls me closer, and kisses me harder, rougher than before.
“Yes,” I groan as I swivel my hips, filling her completely, thrusting deep inside her.
The sounds she makes send me into a frenzy as lust spreads all over my body, but it’s so much more than that. As I go deeper, she cries out, “So good.”
I wrap my arms around her. “I can’t get close enough to you, baby.”
She digs her nails into my ass. “I know. I feel the same.”
“I can’t stand being without you.”
“I can’t take it, either.” She brings her mouth down on my shoulder and bites. Hard. Leaving marks. Setting me off, because I fucking love her orgasms, and she has to be close. I give her what she wants—hard, deep strokes.
Soon, she flies over the edge, falling apart in my arms, biting down on my flesh, and it’s as good as it’s ever been.
No. It’s even better. Because I know what I want.
After I follow her there, coming hard, I meet hergaze. Her eyes are blissed-out. The words that come next are so damn easy to say. “I’m in love with you.”
The sigh she makes is soft and happy, but also a little sad, as she whispers, “I’m in love with you, too.”
This should be a defining moment in the playbook of my life. This should be when the quarterback launches the ball and I run clear to the end zone to score a touchdown.
The trouble is, I fear I’m going to drop the pass, or worse, get slaughtered by a hit I don’t see coming.
We all have a blind side.
But I don’t know how to anticipate a problem I can’t see, so I hold her face and kiss her, a little soft, a little desperate, as we drive the last mile to her home.
When we turn onto her block, she breaks the kiss and sets a hand on my arm. “I want to spend the night with you. You have to know that.”
“Yeah, I know that, and I want to spend the night with you, too, but . . .”
“But the longer we keep sneaking around, the worse it’s going to be.” She brushes a kiss on my cheek. “I need to go through with it this time. I need to tell Lily.”
“And I need to tell Ford and Liam.” I brush my lips against hers once more, as if we’re finalizing our plans. Sealing them with a kiss before the night ends, and the hard work begins tomorrow.
When she’s gone, I tell the driver to take me home.
The next day, I’m up bright and early, the morning fog snaking through the hills of San Francisco as I run. Along the way, I focus on the words I’ll say to my agent and to my new business partner.
When I’ve crested five miles, I head for the gym near my home to lift weights, and forty-five minutes later, I’m energized and ready to make the call.
But as I head for the exit, I bump into my old teammate, Garrett Snow.
31
JILLIAN
My stomach is a skydiver, executing loops and flips that I didn’t know it could do. I’m pretty sure that at some point it tries to crawl up my esophagus.
Nerves can suck it. I need to be made of steel.
I lift my chin and continue my march down the hall to my boss’s office. My high-heeled shoes click along the floor as I picture my patent leather pumps giving me power, giving me the strength to say what must be said.
Taking a deep breath, I smooth a hand over my red blouse, touching my earrings next.
