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Fifty Yard Line 10
Brady
Icouldn’twaitanymore for anything. She was jealous of other girls looking at me. She trusted me enough to go into that stadium. She listened and engaged in talk about football. I was ready to devour this woman by the time we got into my apartment. It had been a long damn time and I was seven books into a ten-book series on aliens that essentially fucked their stolen women into submission.
It was so bad that I started dreaming I was the alien, and she was the abductee. Only, I would wake up alone, have to handle myself, and then try to convince myself it was the books, not Poppy that had me all messed up. However, I would never have picked up the first book if not for Poppy, so what did that say about my interest in this particular journalist?
I was buzzing with anticipation as I held her coat and she slid out of it. The arm cast reminded me that I had hurt her, broken her literally, even if it was an accident. “No one has signed your cast. Why?”
“Do they do that for grown-ups?” she asked and moved into the kitchen as I pulled my own coat off. I hadn’t thought about it. I just wanted to put my name on it, on her. I tried to shake the thought. Damn books had me all kinds of crazy alpha energy and ideas that worked well in fiction, but probably not so much with a modern woman.
She was looking in the refrigerator and when she looked at me, I think she finally registered that I wasn’t kidding around in the car. She closed that door and said, “What?”
I gulped and extended my hand toward her. She bit the edge of her lip and took a few steps toward me. She extended her non casted arm and when our fingers met, I tugged. I looked down and said, “I’m crossing the line.”
Then I leaned down and put my lips to hers. I guess I expected the shy, always blushing, sweetheart that she was around me to take a little more work to get going. She stepped me backward while tugging at my shirt with the fingertips sticking out of her cast. We couldn’t kiss and walk. She was a little too short for that.
“Take this off,” she said as she nodded and I went a bit wide-eyed but snickered as I complied.
She looked at my chest and said, “Fuck.” She held up her hands and indicated as she continued to shock me. “I just…so many things…I want to do and—”
“What about what I want to do?” I asked and smiled. She finally looked up at my face and I said, “Hi.”
She blushed and then giggled. “I’m sorry. I just…dream about this.” She indicated my body. “Since the car and whew, you know?”
“I haven’t seen more than your neck, arms, well, technically just that arm, hands, face…so…” I stepped forward and looked at her as I reached for the shirt hem. “Maybe I should find out?”
She sucked in a breath and said, “I don’t have the same situation as you under there.”
“Probably why I’m more interested in seeing it. I see lots of chests in the locker room. Never felt the need to undress anyone.” I smiled and slowly tested the lift of that shirt. She nodded and closed her eyes.
It was a delightful kind of torture for me and maybe her, too as I pulled that up and then over her head. She was voluptuous and I couldn’t resist putting my hand up to lift a heavy breast and admitted, “I need to spend some time here.”
She didn’t mind as we moved backward and onto the couch where I took a seat and she climbed over my lap putting those breasts at face level. I undid the hook at the back and slid that off of her. Both hands full, I leaned in and like a starving man and began to feast.
I understood that female breasts varied in sensitivity and what might feel great to one might feel boring to another. Poppy had sensitive nipples if her hips gave any indication. She pushed her fingers into my hair, undulated her hips against me, and a little bit more pressure had her about undone which just made me feel like more like an animal than a man. The urge to take all of it, her, was a driving force as she tried again to figure out how to get her hands on more of me than my hair, shoulders, and chest.
I moved, shifting her to her back and then began working the button on her jeans. I pulled those and her panties off at the same time because my patience was about out.
“Socks.” She pointed and I settled a moment. Smiled. I pulled those off really slow and that had her closing her eyes and smiling at me.
“Better?” I asked. She nodded. I waited for her to open her eyes again. I began to move down one of her legs from ankle to knee and she gulped. I asked, “You good?”
“Not sure what to do here.” She looked up at the ceiling.
“Pretty sure this is the part where you lay there and pretend I am the best you’ve ever had.” I nipped at her inner thigh.
“Not pretending and…only read about it.” She was blinking up at the ceiling.
I looked up at her and said, “Hey.”
She looked at me. Her non-casted arm extended and as I moved to that juncture between her legs, her fingers slid into my hair.
