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“Exactly.” He gets it. “So, where’s your girl, then?” I pant. I use the neck of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead.
He takes a swig from his water bottle. “No fuckin’ clue.”
I hesitate before asking, “Don’t take this the wrong way, bud, but wasn’t she a bunny?”
“Yeah, but so what?” He furrows his brow. “She was different, ya know? Like how you are with Gray.” I smile, recalling the nickname I gave her that night.
“I get that you didn’t get her number, but you haven’t seen her around? I’d think she would still show up at the bars and clubs or something, right?” If she’s a bunny, there’s probably another guy on the team that’s fucked her. They might have her number. I have to say this cautiously. “Have you, uh,asked around?”
“Yeahhh.” He sighs. “She’s gotten around, but nobody’s seen her. It’s as if she’s totally vanished. My guess is she moved away. This was years ago now. I gotta let it go.”
“Aww, Big Bad Conway has a one-that-got-away.” As soon as I say it, I wish I could take it back. I know better than anyone how it feels to lose somebody you care about. It’s the worst.
“Oh, fuck off.”
“You’re gonna be good, though, right?”
“I’m fine, just one of those things. You always wonder, ya know?”
“Well, for all our sake, I hope you cross paths again. Don’t know what went down between you two, but you haven’t been the same since that night.”
She must have been one hell of a lay to rattle someone like Barrett Conway.
* * *
My massage therapist canceled, and I’m glad. For two reasons: 1) I get to go home early, and 2) I know my mind would have drifted to Bridget, guaranteeing me a boner on the table. Today was difficult enough without a massage. I leave the press box where I got grilled for our last few games. We had two guys injured and it’s not going well. When I get to my car, my thoughts are already on her. A cold shower would do me good.
Normally, I get a nap after training, but today was booked solid, so I’m wiped. As I step off the elevator, I’m reminded of how welcoming it feels to come home to her. I’m relieved to be home. It’s quiet. I was hoping to see her face, but she’s not in the kitchen or the living room. She’s probably taking a nap. We were up pretty late last night, so I’m not surprised.
First priority is getting out of this monkey suit. Passing through my bathroom, I notice there’s a dim light coming from the entrance of my closet. And a noise.It can’t be...
The second my feet hit the door’s threshold, they plant themselves firmly, and I can’t move. She’s sitting on the floor of my closet, touching herself. I can’t take my eyes off her. God, she’s my own personal centerfold. Her sexy little pink dress is gathered around her waist like cotton candy, and her arousal permeates the air mixed with my cologne. The combination has my mouth watering. My cock constricts against my fly.
Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy updo, and one of her thin straps has fallen off her shoulder as her fingers move quickly over her clit. Her charcoal eyelashes contrast her creamy skin as they rest against her flushed cheeks. She’s biting the corner of her lip, and without context, one might think her furrowed brows were apologetic but she’s chasing ecstasy. And she’s definitely not sorry. One hand has pulled her thong to the side while the other is strumming her clit in small circles. Fucking hell.
Leave. You need to leave. Don’t be a creep. Turn around and walk away.
On the other hand...last night she admitted she’d gotten off on the idea of me catching her like this. Is that what she’s doing now? Why else would she be in here?
Yeah, I’m going with that. I smirk at her and lean against the cased opening, loosening my tie and pulling it from behind my neck. She startles, and her eyes fly open, showing me the stormy gray of her irises.
“Oh my God! What are you doing here?” she squawks.
Her fingers stall, and her legs press together.
“I’mgetting changed. What areyoudoing here?”
“Sorry, um, I was—”
“Did I say you could stop?”
I saw how close she was to finishing. There’s no way I’m letting a second orgasm get interrupted. She’s going to come, and I’m going to watch.
She takes in a gasp of air and studies my face, deciding whether to give in to this seductive scenario she’s conjured up. I adore that little shred of shyness she can never seem to shed completely. As I walk deeper into the closet, I maintain a calm demeanor, though my pulse is pounding and I’m getting harder by the second. While hanging up my suit jacket, I can see her fingers have cautiously resumed in my peripheral.That’s my girl.
I turn the leather smoking chair so it faces her directly in front of where she’s sitting. As I roll the cuffs up my forearms, her gaze drops to my tattooed sleeve, like it always does. She stands. Ha—she thinks this seat is for her.
“Sit back down. This is for me.”
