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He laughed, relaxing into me. “Maybe I’ll suggest that to JJ. Get him to run the idea by Dr. Wilder, see what he thinks of it.” His smile fading away, he tilted his head to press a kiss to my jaw. “Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are? I think you’re the loveliest footballer I know.”
Niccolò. He was so fucking sweet. Looking at him now, I wondered how I’d even questioned my sexuality around him. I’d never been so attracted to anyone in my life. “Aww, thanks, baby. You’re not too bad yourself, you know.”
“I know. I’m great. Hey, are you glad I flirted with you that night in Revolve?”
“I am.” My gaze lowered to the prominent bulge between his legs, and I swallowed hard. My hand slid up his thigh. When his breath hitched, I pulled him into my lap. “Let’s re-enact that night, but let’s pretend I went home with you. What happened when we got to your house?”
A smile curved over his lips as he wound his arms around my neck. “My lovely, sexy footballer. Carry me to my bedroom, and I’ll show you exactly what happened. In detail.”
CHAPTERTEN
Niccolò
The pile of books next to me seemed to be growing. How was that possible, when I’d been here for two hours reading through the material already? Written assignments were the least exciting part of my performing arts degree.
Groaning, I pushed my laptop away from me, folded my arms across the table, and lowered my head. Maybe I could take a quick nap. I was in a quiet corner of the library—no one would disturb me here.
My phone let out a soft chirp, and my head flew up, my thumb instantly unlocking the screen.
My hot footballer
The nails brought us luck. We won 6-2!
I knew it! Aren’t you glad I talked you into letting me paint your nails? Imagine the score if I’d painted more than 2!
My hot footballer
2 was perfect. Wish you’d been here to see us win
Bennett’s words made me warm all over. It had been three weeks since our first official date, and we’d had several more dates, and hours of calls and texts, getting to know each other on a deeper level. Everything was moving fast…but we just clicked, somehow, and it felt like he’d been in my life forever. We hadn’t discussed the B word…boyfriend…but it felt like we were heading in that direction. Me with a boyfriend! Who would’ve thought it? Not me, that was for sure. I’d be a fool to give Bennett Archer up, though. He was the loveliest man to ever exist, in my opinion. Sexy, smart, sweet, caring, and his cock was the kind of thing that poets wrote sonnets about. Or they should, anyway.
I’d talked him into letting me paint the little finger on each hand in the LSU team colour, overlaid with sparkles, and my instincts had paid off. The LSU team had won, all thanks to my nails—or partly thanks to my nails. I’d definitely brought them some luck, at least.
Wish I’d been there. Why can’t my assignments write themselves?
I added several sad and crying emojis to get my point across, and two replies came through in quick succession. The first was a GIF insinuating that I was a drama queen—ruuude. My not-yet-but-hopefully-soon-to-be-boyfriend must’ve been hanging out with Ander too much. But the second message made up for it.
My hot footballer:
Come and watch my match next week. I’ll save you a seat at the front
I’ll be there!
My hot footballer:
Can’t wait. Got to go but I’ll speak to you later. Let me know when you finish your assignment and I’ll give you a reward
Does it involve your dick?
My hot footballer:
Maybe. You’ll have to wait and see
TEASE. I guess you’re giving me an incentive to finish it quickly
My hot footballer:
Speaking of teasing, your latest FBO pic was sexy as fuck
