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He grins. “Maybe a bit.”
He’s full of shit and he knows I see it. I’m sure he can actually work the latch just fine, but I get out to help him in spite of my better judgment. He keeps grinning to himself as he steps out of the car and watches me close the door after he’s clear of it.
Suddenly, he’s at my elbow, leaning into my space.
“Do you want to come up stairs?” he asks. When I start to shake my head, he innocently holds up his hands. “We can keep the door open if you want. I have no ulterior motives, Maya. I just figured we could talk about how the game went, maybe get to know each other a little better instead of being at each other’s throats.”
That’s the second time he’s called me by my first name, and it sends lightning bolts of desire flickering through my nervous system. My breath catches in my chest, and I’m growing overly warm everywhere.
His expression looks sincere for once, and it makes him ten times hotter than the bad boy scowl he always gives us at practice does. It’s a terrible idea, but I really would like to get to know him, just like he’s suggesting. Maybe we could talk about strategies for future games, or talk about what it’s like to play professionally, scandals notwithstanding. And I don’t want to leave his presence just yet, either. I’m drawn to him like a hapless moth to a candle’s flame. What’s even worse is that I want to dive head-first into the fire.
Throwing caution to the wind, I follow him up into his apartment.
Chapter 5
Nathan
“I promise I won’t bite,” I say as she tiptoes across the threshold. Not unless she wants me to, anyway.
What am I doing, inviting her in like this, when I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is? Part of the reason I’m even in this predicament in the first place is because of the way she weakens my resolve. I find myself wanting to ignore the urgings of my manager and my better judgment. Being so close to her on the ride here just made it that much worse. For once, we just got to sit quietly and I liked it as much as I enjoy her scowls when I tease her. I could feel the heat coming off of her soft body in waves next to me in the car. It’s taking every ounce of my willpower to keep myself from pulling her close to claim those lush lips of hers in a kiss, scowl or no scowl.
She brushes past me on her way to check out the trophies. Memories of past glory, and a firm reminder of what I’m working to get back to, and of why I really shouldn’t be thinking about her at all. I’m shocked when she points at them and recites the final score of each game.
“You made the winning goal in extra time,” she says, touching one with the tip of her finger. I can picture it sliding down the length of my cock, and I stiffen, catching my breath. I should move away, but instead, I step closer to her.
“So, you’re a fan?” I ask, unable to stop the pleased grin stretching across my face.
Her frustrated huff is adorable. “Of the sport,” she says. “Not you.”
She turns just enough that our shoulders touch and I reach out to run my fingers along the edge of her top. “Well, that’s a shame.”
Her chin tips up, and she stares me down with her vibrant blue eyes. Like a true ginger, she has a light dusting of freckles across her pert nose. I’ve never been close enough to notice them before. I’m unable to look away, hardly able to blink, and now I’m as hard as a rock. The tip of her tongue juts out between her parted lips as she licks them and I groan.
“Are you okay?” she asks in a whisper.
I shake my head. “Not at all.” This is torture. How am I supposed to act responsibly when she’s standing there, looking as if she didn’t play an amazing game earlier today? I tug her a little closer by the hem of her shirt and she steps forward eagerly, despite her furrowed brow. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I ask.
“Nothing smart,” she says, rising up on her toes.
“Good.”
It only takes the slightest tilt of my head, and finally, our lips collide. Hers are warm and soft as the moan that escapes them. My hands move up to wrap around her waist and I pull her roughly against me. I can’t take us being apart any longer. I need to feel her body pressed to mine, her soft heat against my hard length. She grabs my shoulders in a shy, desperate way that makes my heart ache, her mouth open to my tongue.
“You taste so sweet,” I say, dragging my lips toward her neck. She melts against me, holding on tight. “Like freshly baked bread.”
This makes her giggle, but she gasps when I cup her tight ass cheeks with my hands and grind her against my hard cock. She moans and writhes against my shaft, making me the one who’s left gasping. This is better than I could have ever imagined.
“Coach Browers,” she whimpers. “I—”
I back her up until we get to the bar between the kitchen and living area. Not once does my skin leave hers. This apartment is a far cry from what I was used to back home, but the lack of luxury is the furthest thing from my mind.
“You can’t call me that when we’re doing this.” I lift her easily and set her on the counter so that I can spread her legs, pulling myself between them. Her arms go around my neck and her head lolls backwards as I trail my tongue down her throat.
“Fine. Nathan, then,” she says. “Oh, that feels good.”
I throb in my jeans and shove her top up to get my hands on more of her skin. Hearing her say my first name is even hotter than I imagined; between that and the way her legs are wrapped around me, locking her pussy against my cock, I’m not sure how I’m not inside her already.
Pushing up under her sports bra, I get my thumb and forefinger around her nipple, rolling it until it’s a tight nub. She arches into my touch, pressing more of her firm flesh into my hands.
