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“Great.”
I hang up, and, with a bounce in my step, I hurry home.
I’ve just finished shaving my legs when the door to my shower opens, and a very naked Ike steps inside.
Speaking of beautiful men… Ike’s body looks like it’s been sculpted out of marble. He’s just perfect. All muscled and smooth and mine.
“I didn’t even get to climb in bed,” I say before I’m pinned to the cold tile wall and Ike’s lips are on mine, feasting.
That’s the only way I can describe it. Every time we’re together, he’s so intent on me, so ravenous that it’s as though he’s feasting on me.
And I freaking love it. I can’t get enough of him, either.
Ike boosts me up, and as I wrap my legs around his waist, he slides right inside of me, making me gasp in delight.
“Been thinking about you all day,” he growls against my neck. “And how fucking good you feel.”
I always enjoy being with this man, but this is my favorite side of him. The possessive, intense side.
With his eyes pinned to mine, he drives himself hard, in and out, chasing the orgasm until it makes its way through both of us, leaving us gasping for breath.
Ike slides out of me and gently sets me down on my feet, and then, with the gentlest hands, he cleans us up, turns off the hot water, and proceeds to dry me himself.
“You’re dripping,” I say as he rubs my skin with the terry cloth.
“You first,” he says. “Always.”
“Aren’t you cold?”
“After that? Hell no.” He nibbles on my lips, and once I’m dry, he uses the same towel on himself.
“I’m gonna go get dressed.”
“No.”
I turn at his stern voice, already turned on again. “Excuse me?”
“You promised me naked bed time.” He tosses the towel aside, takes my hand, and leads me to the bedroom. “We’re not done, sweetheart.”
“Well, okay then.”
I happily climb into my bed and smile at him.
“What brought this on, anyway?” he asks.
“Stella suggested it.”
His brows furrow in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that answer, but I knew I liked her.”
I laugh and reach for him. “It’s a long story.”
“You can tell me when we’re done. Much, much later.”
“Deal.”
Chapter 10
Ike
“I’m not excited about this meeting.” I lean on my countertop and watch Sophie stuff a bunch of spinach into the smoothie she’s making in the new blender she bought for my kitchen.
God, I love having her in my house. I don’t even mind the green smoothies anymore.
“I know you’re not. But let your agent and the attorney handle it. They’re the experts.”
“I just want to play football,” I say and rub my hands over my face. “The details annoy the shit out of me.”
“The details of any job are annoying,” she reminds me and passes me a glass of the smoothie. “But we have to deal with them so we can do the part we enjoy. You’ll get through this today, and when it’s finished, you’re good to go for a while.”
“That’s the goal,” I reply and tap my glass to hers.
When I told Sophie that I’d been offered the contract the other day, she didn’t ask me how much it was for. The only thing she wanted to know was if I was happy with the offer and if I’d be staying here.
Most women would want the details. Hell, I can’t blame anyone for being curious.
“You didn’t ask me how much they offered me.”
“That’s none of my business,” she replies and sips her drink before dismantling the blender and rinsing it.
“The rest of the world would disagree. If I sign today, ESPN will be reporting about it tonight, down to every detail.”
“See, I think that’s bullshit. I know that people are curious, especially when it comes to the wealthy. They want to know how much actors are paid to appear in films, and how much athletes make on their contracts. Hell, they even want to know how much I make from my stuff. And I do well, but I’m not on the elite tier of things. I just think it’s stupid. I don’t walk around town meeting people and breaking the ice with, so, what did you bring in last year?”
“No.” I laugh and drain the glass, then set it in the dishwasher. “I guess the curiosity factor increases with the net worth, so to speak.”
I blow out a breath. I haven’t yet confided in Sophie about my father. Not because I don’t want her to know, but because I just don’t want to talk about him. But I’d be an ass if I didn’t give her a heads-up.
“You should know that my family will cause some trouble.”
She turns to me now, her face lined with concern. “In what way?”
“Well, specifically, my father will have his hand out, as usual. I don’t want to burden you with the details, but my dad’s a leech. And when ESPN reports on the compensation amount of this contract, he’ll expect the bulk of it to go to him.”
