Page 88 of Forever Offsides

I need a shower since I didn’t take one after the game, and because he told me to come here, I walk upstairs and navigate my way to his bedroom. It’s a sprawling space of light wood and dark linens. Very masculine. I don’t snoop, though the temptation is real. Does he have condoms in his nightstand? Lube? Sex toys?

I laugh a bit at that last one. I’ve never known a man to keep those in their nightstand. Not the way women do. If he opened my nightstand drawer, he’d see the funhouse I have inside. A shiver runs through me at the thought of him finding them and using them.

He told me last night that he hasn’t been with anyone since me all those months ago, and I believe him. I wouldn’t have gone bare with him if I didn’t. I trust him. And he clearly trusts me since I’m alone in his house.

I strip out of my clothes, weed through his dresser drawers until I find what I need, and go straight into his bathroom, which is as clean and organized as the rest of his house.

If he finds me here, great. If not, that works too.

I turn on his shower and step in, using his shampoo and body wash to get myself clean. Typical male, he doesn’t have separate conditioner, just two-in-one stuff, but I make it work. I don’t linger. It seems almost a little too pornish for him to come home and find me in here. I recite the steps for a rotator cuff repair to calm my nerves and quickly finish up. Stepping out, I wrap myself up in a towel and comb through my hair as best I can.

I get dressed in his clothes—an old college T-shirt, sweatpants that I have to roll four times at my waist but still sag on me, and a hoodie. No undies and no bra.

When I come out of the bathroom, I hitch back a step, finding Rhett standing at the threshold of his bedroom. His hands grip the top of the doorframe as he fills it. He’s still in his Rebels T-shirt and track pants that he wore to the postgame conference, his tattoos and bulging arm muscles on full display. He pushes the brim of his glasses up his nose before he replaces his hand on the frame, and I might have just come a little from that move.

“This is what you get for giving me a key.”

“I have no complaints. If this is what I come home to, I may have to have you move in.” He crosses the room and buries his face in my neck, taking a deep inhale of me. He groans, clearly smelling his soap and shampoo on me. Hot, wet kisses rain against my skin, and I moan, leaning into him. “Dinner?”

Dinner? He pulls away, and I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, the word not computing.

His lips twitch with amusement. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Um.” How do I answer that without sounding like the desperate little hussy I clearly am?

“Come on.” He waves a hand over his shoulder as he heads back toward the bedroom door. “I promised to cook for you.”

“You’ve done that for me before,” I call after him. “No mystery.”

He chuckles, the sound growing distant and muffled by his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

Did he legit just walk out of this bedroom in the name of food over sex?

I blink, having no clue what to do with that. Other than follow him, I guess. Fine, if he can be an adult and play it cool, so can I. Ha, who are you kidding? My nipples are so hard they could cut glass, and my pussy is already wet and uncomfortable since I have no panties on.

“Did you not take your Viagra yet, old man?” I yell out to him. “Is that why you need to eat first? To give it time to kick in?”

In a beat, I hear him jogging back up the steps, and I smile and nibble on the corner of my lip. He comes in, fire in his eyes, and in a flash, I’m hauled against him. Against his very large, hard dick.

He bites my earlobe in warning. “Careful, baby girl.”

“Or what?”

He smirks against me. “Or I’ll show you just how much of a man I am and what I do to little brats who don’t listen.”

“Brat—” The word morphs into a scream as he picks me up and hauls me over his shoulder. I land with an oomph and a fresh yelp while my ass gets a good spanking. I kick my legs and earn another spanking, proving his point. It makes me smile wickedly, knowing he can’t see it.

“But Daddy, what if I don’t want to behave?”

He hisses out a curse and jerks the sweatpants over my ass. He bites into one cheek, and I cry out as he gives the other cheek a good, hard spanking that makes my clit pulse.

He carries me out of his bedroom, and I shift around on his shoulder, fear striking a path through me. “Oh my god! Rhett, put me down. You can’t carry me down the stairs.”

“I can and I will. Don’t squirm or you’ll kill us both.”

He marches down the stairs, and I bounce with every step. My eyes close and I hold on tight, hardly breathing. True to his word, he gets us to the bottom and allows me to slide down the front of him. He grabs my face in both of his large, rough hands and nails me with a hard, fast kiss.

“Behave.”