Page 49 of Double Play

He pulls back, looking me directly in the eyes. The thing I notice first is he isn’t frustrated that I’m rambling about nachos while he’s been kissing me. Second, the intensity in his gaze is a mix of how turned on he is and his concentration to hear me.

He’s listening to my rant, when I’ve come here with a purpose that did not include complaining about nachos and topping ratios.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, closing my eyes and shaking my head.

“Stop.” He cups my cheek. “Don’t apologize. We can talk about nachos.”

I stare at him a second, certain he must be mocking me. “Nachos over sex?” I quip.

“Is that some new kink? Like I can spread melted cheese over myself, as long as I have the right combination of sour cream and guacamole to accompany it.”

I laugh. At myself.

“Now I’m hungry,” he jokes before fighting a yawn.

I rub my hand over his bristly cheek, then tickle my fingertips along his scratchy jaw. “How was your day?”

“My team had their asses kicked by my brother’s team. And this hot reporter still acts like I’m skimpy nachos, light on the toppings.”

Since he’s teasing me, I laugh again, and press at his shoulder, forcing him to his back.

“Hmm,” I purr. “I like topping.” I climb over him and straddle his waist until his hands meet my hips, and he nudges me lower.

“Can we skip the food analogies and get to the truth. I like you on top of me.”

We practiced this position, among a few others, in Colorado, and I feel like a horny teen, eager to try a few more.

But not with his daughter in the other room.

Slipping off him, I fold to my side again, and he twists to mirror my position. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t seduce you with Montgomery in the other room,” I whisper.

“Didn’t bother you when your parents were in one.” He smiles wide, leaning in to capture my lips before I can retort. Before I can argue it wasn’t the same thing when it’s almost exactly the same thing.

“We just need to be quiet,” he hums against my neck again, sucking on my skin.

He rolls over me, flipping me to my back, and pressing his thick bulge against where I’m warm and wet for him. My legs spread wider, accommodating him between my thighs, while his hands slip along my arms, before lifting them over my head.

“Ever been tied up?” he murmurs, kissing along my sternum and nuzzling between my breasts.

“No,” I choke on my responding whisper as he nips me again over the swell.

Declan scrambles backward, and off the end of the bed, reaching for something on the floor. When he stands upright, he tugs the belt from my coat taut.

“First time for everything.” He remains standing near my feet, waiting for my permission.

“Dare,” I whisper, as a strange energy ripples over my body. With my arms already above my head, and his eyes on me like I’m his prisoner, in the best way, he nods and climbs over me.

My wrists are locked by a knot in my belt and Declan’s head is between my thighs, making a meal out of me.

That’s better than any stadium concession.

twenty-one

. . .

[Declan]