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“Yeah, don’t fuck it up, bud,” Conway says. “Aren’t you glad I told you to get her number that night?”
“You have no idea.” When I get off the bike, I crack my back and throw my towel in the bin. “I’m heading out. Have fun tonight, boys.”
“Go get ’em, Tiger!” Sully jokes.
I chuckle and give my best tiger growl as I shove the door open and make my way back to the lockers. I can’t wait to get home to her.
This time when I step off the elevator, she’s got a mean fuckin’ burger waiting for me. I change out of my suit and into a comfy pair of basketball shorts and a sweatshirt. As I’m hanging the suit up, I take in how well this girl knows what I need. Whether it be a burger or a smile.
Back in the dining room, she cracks a beer and hands it to me without saying a word. It’s so damn thoughtful and domesticated that my heart swells. I could get used to this. I love the way she can read me and anticipate my needs. I want to do the same for her.
She opens herself a beer, and we sit across from one another, watching each other in silence. She’s observing me eat, and I’m attentive to those incredible gray eyes. After having them absent from my life, I’ll never tire of gazing into them. It feels like home.
I realize, for the first time, that she’s also had a big effect on my condo. Since she’s moved in, her presence makes it cozier. The fireplace is turned on, but now it adds ambiance rather than only providing a heat source. She’s turned this penthouse into a penthome.
We maintain eye contact. The burger is satisfying as hell, but when she tips back her beer bottle and swallows, it arouses a new hunger.Is she fucking with me or is this an opening?
“What are your plans for tonight?” I ask.
“Not sure. Probably watch a movie and go to bed.”
“Want to play a game instead?”
She finishes chewing and swallows. “You’re not tired from the game you just played?”
“I’m usually wired for a few hours after.”
“What did you have in mind? Monopoly?”
“Truth or dare?” I suggest. It’s theonlygame I want to play.
She laughs and narrows her eyes at me, she’s on to me. When she rolls her eyes, it does something to me. It’s slightly disobedient, and it makes me want to correct her behavior. Leave her on her knees, begging for more.
“You don’t think we’re a little old for that? I haven’t played Truth or dare? since I was a teenager.”
“Well, we have a lot of time to make up for—including the teenage years.”
And it gives her the illusion of control while I grill her on some things—without it feeling like an interrogation. She narrows her eyes while she considers it.
“Okay. But if you decline your dare or truth, you have to remove an article of clothing.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Well, look who came to play,” I exclaim.
She is even more hard up for sex than I thought. But I still want her to come out and tell me she’s ready for us to becomeus.
“Be right back.” She runs to her bedroom. When she returns, she’s wearing a sweater; she’s adding layers.
“Cheater.”
She places her hand on her chest.
“I wouldnever...” She’s mimicking me from the night in her hotel room.
I walk into the living room and take off my sweatshirt and socks in retaliation.
“Ready?”
