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28
Taylor
I clung to Brody afterward, too giddy and satisfied to move. Which was good, because based on the way Brody was still holding me up in his arms, he had no intention of letting go of me any time soon.
I closed my eyes and let my senses recalibrate. The way Brody’s nose brushed against mine gently. His deep, masculine scent surrounding me. The beads of sweat pooling at the spot where our foreheads touched. The soft caress of his beard hairs tickling against my cheek as he gave me another, softer, kiss.
“All right,” he said in his deep Texas drawl. “That was great and all. But I’m gonna mosey back out there and find the bikini bimbo…”
I laughed and playfully smacked him on the arm. He gave me a mischievous grin in the semi-darkness.
“Glad you can take a joke,” he said softly. “Because the truth is, I wouldn’t want a thousand of her when I could have one of you.”
“You sure about that?” I replied. “Her boobs were bigger than mine. And her ass was rounder.”
Brody’s fingers had been holding me up by my thighs, but now they slid a little farther back until he was cupping my ass. He gave me a gratuitous squeeze.
“I like what you’ve got just fine. Hell, I’ve been thinkin’ about your body, and what I want to do to it, for months.”
I ran my fingers over the ridges of his biceps, which were taut with strength. “When you build something up in your head like that, it rarely lives up to expectations.”
“Oh, it blew my expectations out of the water.”
I grinned at him. “Me too.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve been thinkin’ about it too, huh?”
“Perhaps.”
Brody shook his head. “Naw. I put all my cards on the table. I figure it’s time for you to do the same.”
I hesitated only a moment before saying, “Sometimes, when I’m sitting behind my desk and waiting for my students to turn in a test, I’ll watch videos of you on my phone. Highlight reels from your games. Adidas commercials. That kind of thing. And I fantasize about you.”
Normally, I never would have revealed that information to a guy. I would have died of embarrassment just to hint at something like that. But here, in the quiet, warm vulnerability, with Brody still inside of me, I wasn’t afraid. I felt like I could tell him anything.
I felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled quietly. “Didn’t realize you were my number one fan, T-Foxy.”
I reached back and found his meaty ass, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m a fan of your butt. It looks really cute in those white football pants. And the camera always zooms in on it after you get tackled.”
Brody opened his mouth to reply, but then the door opened and bright light invaded the closet. Stevie Cooper, another player on the team, was frozen with his hand still on the doorknob. His jaw dropped, and he quickly said, “Sorry!” and closed the door.
“Shit,” Brody said.
He let me down and we quickly scrambled to put our clothes back on. When we were dressed, Brody said, “Wait here,” and then slipped out of the closet.
Even though the door was slightly ajar, I couldn’t hear their conversation. Just a series of muffled sounds. A few seconds later, Brody opened the door and gestured for me to come out. I looked around for other people, afraid that there were others who had seen us. But the hallway was empty.
Still, I continued looking around because I was too embarrassed to meet Stevie’s gaze.
“Not a word,” Brody warned.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stevie nod. “I’ll only say one thing. It’s about damn time.”
Now I did turn and look at him. “What do you mean?”
Stevie jerked his thumb at Brody. “This guy’s been heartsick like a damn puppy. Moping around the field, the sideline, the locker room. But that smile he’s wearing now? That’s the old Brody I know. Don’t care how he got it back, but it’s about time he did.”
The indirect compliment made me blush with pride.
