We ate dinner in relative peace for being out in public, then stopped on our way out and took a few pictures with some fans who had spotted us. Hendrix caught a cab with the blonde he’d been eye-fucking, and the rest of us piled into the car we’d hired to take us back to the hotel.
Rick played on his phone while Roman and Teagan laughed about something, so I didn’t worry about them hearing me when I tugged Liberty closer. “You look amazing tonight. I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” She smiled, then slid her fingers between the buttons of my button-down shirt, resting them on my abs, which immediately tensed. “Hmmm. Getting a little hard for me?” she teased quietly, stroking my skin in small circles.
The light touch tightened every muscle in my body.
“Why don’t you lower that hand and find out?” I grazed the shell of her ear with my teeth.
“In public?” she feigned shock. “What would your friends say?”
I stared long and hard at those kissable lips of hers, then ran my tongue across my own, noting with more than a little satisfaction that Liberty’s breath hitched. “I’d say that we have about ten minutes until I get you alone.”
“Oh?” Her whisper was breathless. “And then what’s the plan?”
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her neck, breathing in the light scent of her floral perfume. “Then I’m going to have dessert.”
“I could absolutely go for some room service.”
“Trust me, there will be plenty of…servicing.” I lifted my head to find her smiling wickedly at me and nearly groaned. I was hard as a fucking rock and would have to get through the lobby of a very packed hotel like this if I didn’t calm it down in the next few minutes.
Unfortunately, my body didn’t get the memo because Liberty kept stroking my skin, and my brain took it the rest of the way, planning out in detail exactly how I was going to take her and how long I was going to make her wait.
By the time the car service dropped us, I wasn’t calmed—I was even more worked up. Lucky for me, Liberty smiled at my predicament and then turned into my chest as we headed into the building.
“Think you can kiss me the whole way upstairs?” she asked, pressing my cock between us as it rose against my belly.
“You are fucking amazing,” I whispered, then kissed the shit out of her. There weren’t any photographers in the hotel—they weren’t allowed, so I didn’t worry as I locked my forearm under her ass and lifted her off those sexy little heels she’d chosen for tonight.
Not only had she successfully hidden my erection with her body, but I was throbbing by the time we reached our hotel room. Thank God I was a senior guy on the team and got my own room. The rookies had to share.
I managed to unlock the door and get it open with Liberty in my arms, and then I carried her into the room and slammed the thing shut behind us.
“I’m going to devour every inch of you,” I growled into her neck.
We undressed in a hurry between kisses so hot I debated not taking clothes off at all. I wanted inside her. Now. But more than that, I wanted her crying out my name, wanted her so desperate for me that she might have a taste of how badly I always wanted her. She was always the one with the high ground in our relationship, but here in bed, I managed to level the playing field.
Our tongues twined and twirled as we groped and stroked, falling to the bed in a naked tangle of limbs. When she sprawled beneath me, I locked both her thighs over my shoulders and had my dessert.
“Holy. Shit.” She moaned long and loud as I latched onto her core with my mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about the way you taste all night,” I said it against her clit, letting the words cause little vibrations in my lips.
“Nixon!” Her fingers tangled in my hair.
Fuck, I loved the sound of my name on her lips, especially when I had her spiraling toward the edge. I licked her from pussy to clit, then tongue-fucked her with long, hard thrusts.
Her hips rolled as she keened in time with my tongue’s movements, riding my tongue toward her orgasm. When she got close, I pulled away, turning my attention to her clit.
“Nixon, please,” she cried, her grip tugging me against her.
“Please, what?” I asked, swirling my tongue over the swollen bud.
“Let me come!” she demanded.
I lashed at her clit with deft strokes of my tongue, then slid my hands from her hips to her breasts, lightly tweaking her sensitive nipples. Her breaths came in stuttered gasps, her thighs locked around my head, and she came with my name on her lips.
Still hungry for her, I sucked her clit back into my mouth and brought her to climax again, this time stroking her pussy with my fingers. She was so wet that I nearly came at the delicious, sucking sound my fingers made with every thrust, knowing my cock would be there soon. When she came down from that orgasm, I slipped her thighs from my shoulders.
“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?” I ran my hand from her neck, to the dip between her breasts, and over the swell of her belly. Was she carrying my child? Yes. But her body was a purely sexual feast in these moments.
“You—” she started.
“Not me,” I countered. “You.” She always did that—made some comment about me being hot, or how she wasn’t a model or some other shit. I needed her to understand just how spectacular she was to me.
“Come here,” she said instead, reaching for me.
I noted the full-length mirror on the wall and grinned. “No. You come here. Hands and knees.” I flipped her gently to her belly as she did as I requested.
Then I turned us so we faced that mirror. My cock throbbed in time with my heartbeat as I looked at her there, flushed with orgasms, and dripping wet. I positioned myself behind her, then sat back on my knees.
She whimpered as I drew her back into my lap, bringing her back against my chest.
“Look at you,” I ordered, looking over her shoulder and gently kissing the fevered skin.
“Nixon,” she begged, swirling her hips over me.
I brought the head of my dick to her entrance and then slid my hand between her breasts. “These are magnificent. You fit my hands perfectly, and you’re so sensitive.” I skimmed her nipple while keeping my other hand locked on her hip. “Your skin is flawless. So soft that I get distracted just thinking about touching you.” I trailed those fingers down her belly and took her other hip in my hand as I leaned back slightly. “You are so fucking beautiful that I dream about you, even in those months we were apart, you haunted my dreams. Say it. Tell me you’re beautiful.”
She sucked in a long breath, then met my eyes in the mirror. “I’m beautiful.”
Fuck, I was going to come in the first thirty seconds, that’s how badly I needed her. “Now watch yourself fuck me, Liberty.” I lifted my hips slightly, pushing inside her that first inch. My eyes slid shut as unimaginable pleasure filled every part of my body. “Take what you want.” I said against her neck, then sucked where neck met shoulder.
She moaned, then sank down on me, her knees on either side of mine. I leaned back slightly, taking her deeper, but letting her control just how much she wanted.
Her ass rubbed against my lower belly as she started to ride me, rising and falling with subtle rocks of her hips. I held her to keep us steady, then lifted my hands to her breasts, working them as she brought us both to the edge. Each thrust felt better than the last, just like every time I took her was better than the previous time. We just got better and better in every way possible.
Our bodies were slick with sweat, our eyes locked in that mirror as she started to tense above me, her movements slowing. “Oh, God. Nixon, I…It’s so good...can’t move…please, baby, please.” She was just about there.
I switched my grip to her hips and swung mine, taking her deep. “Too hard?” I asked between gritted teeth, trying like hell to hold myself back.
“More!” she demanded as her thighs l
ocked, and her body went rigid.
I thrust again and again, losing myself in the heat and perfection of her body, as her lips parted in one long, soundless cry. Pleasure shot down my spine, and that tension snapped free. I reached between her thighs and rubbed her clit gently, sending her straight over the edge with me as I came inside her so hard that I gripped her thighs for balance.
When our breathing calmed, and we were both cleaned up, I started over again, making love to her slowly this time, not only for the pleasure but the distraction.
There had been one good point raised at dinner.
If I got traded…would she follow?
And if she didn’t, what the fuck was I going to do?
14
Liberty
“Good,” I said, my tone soothing, calm. “And now transition into Warrior II pose.” I shifted into the pose on my own mat at the head of the studio, my muscles tight, and my skin drenched. “Beautiful.” I scanned the room and tried like hell not to look at the person on the mat in the far back corner of the studio—and failed.
Nixon Noble doing Warrior II pose in nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and a white tank top? God help me now was he delicious. His biceps rippled as he transitioned into the pose, his arms outstretched on either side as he pointed his right thigh toward the front of the room. Toward me. His other leg extended backward, and I had to admit I was surprised at his range of motion. Sure, the man exercised every single day, but yoga was new to him. Hot yoga even more so, and yet, here he was.
For me.
A whirl of bliss spiraled up to my heart as I met his gaze—nothing but pure mischief in those dark eyes.
“Good,” I said again, clearing my throat as I focused on the rest of the class. “I’d like to end in downward-facing dog and then transition down to child’s pose.” The class followed my example, and we took several minutes in the last pose, focusing on relaxing our minds and bodies after such a challenging class.
“Thanks!” several students called to me as they exited a few minutes later. I waved to them with a smile, toweling off my face and neck.
Nixon remained sitting on his mat, his massive legs turned up at the knees, his elbows resting atop them as he smiled up at me. I headed over to him after the last student had exited.
“Can’t feel your legs enough to stand?” I teased.
He laughed. “Harder than I thought it’d be,” he admitted, and I tossed him a fresh towel.
“This coming from a man who plays through rain or snow or windstorms without batting an eye.”
“It’s different when you’re in the game,” he said, wiping at the beads of sweat that rolled down his face and neck. When he moved on to his chest, I suddenly found myself ridiculously jealous of the towel. “The adrenaline kicks in, and you don’t feel the slickness of the field or the brutal sting of the snow. There is nothing but the next snap, the next play, the next touchdown.”
I grinned, dropping to my knees on his mat. “I love it when you talk football to me.” I slid my hands over his tensed thighs. He tossed the towel to the side, his hands instantly on my hips. I leaned forward, brushing my lips over his, relishing the taste of him mixed with salt.
He groaned, his fingers exploring my waist, the bump of my belly, and up past my ribs. “Hello,” he said between my claiming kisses.
I grinned but nipped his lip. “Hi, there,” I said, teasing his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue. I pushed forward until he fell back, and put a knee on either side of him. God, he was massive, all broad, corded muscles and slick skin. And that smirk of his? Heaven.
“You missed me,” he said, his hands massaging my back as I continued to assault him with kisses.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head.
“You had to,” he said. “If you’re willing to brave the smell and the sweat to kiss me.”
I smiled down at him, tangling my fingers in his hair. It wasn’t like we’d been apart for a massive length of time, but between my Breaking Boundaries city internship, classes, and teaching this class, not to mention his practices and games, I’d seen less and less of him. And my heart had practically leaped into my throat when he’d showed up for my evening class.
“I love the way you smell,” I said honestly. Didn’t matter if the man was fresh off a game or a shower, he always smelled mouthwatering to me. “And your sweat doesn’t bother me.”
“Cleary,” he said, lightly smacking my ass.
“Cocky as ever,” I teased, shaking my head and tugging on his hair a little harder. He growled, and before I could blink, my spine gently kissed the mat, and he settled easily between my legs. The yoga pants I donned left only a thin barrier between us, and I groaned from the sweet pressure of him.
He kissed down my neck, over my breasts, and hovered over my bump. He grinned up at me as he slowly pushed my tank top up and up until he could see my belly. “Hi, baby,” he said, and chills raced over my skin. “How’d you like hot yoga tonight?” He planted a kiss on my tummy before lightly resting his ear on it, and I swore my heart expanded ten sizes. “I agree,” he said, nodding like he was having a conversation with his daughter. He flashed me a wicked look, tugging my shirt back down. “Little whoosh thinks you should lose the Half Moon pose. Not everyone is that flexible.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I told you to modify it. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”
He shrugged, kissing his way back up to my face. “I have a hard time modifying anything,” he said.
“I know. I live with you,” I teased. The man was as neat as they came—everything had its place, everything was clean, and everything had a purpose. He followed instructions to a T and set standards for himself that meant he had to be the best right out of the gate.
Something serious flashed over his features as he looked down at me. “Are you happy, Liberty?”
I swallowed around the emotion clogging my throat. The past couple weeks had been a whirlwind for sure, but every day I found myself falling a bit deeper and deeper for this man. He supported my dreams, made me laugh, took an interest in my passions, and was already a better partner than I’d ever had in my life. Not to mention the sex because oh my god. But it was more than that, more than his ability to make me feel like a goddess in the bedroom. He made me feel…alive and settled in a way I’d never been before.
I nodded, my eyes glistening. Damn you, pregnancy hormones! I rarely cried before getting pregnant, but as the days rolled on I was more and more prone to cry—commercials, a thoughtful post on Facebook, anything.
“Yes,” I finally said, the word a whisper between us. “Are you?”
He pressed his lips into a hard line and shifted so he could settle his hand over my tummy. He nodded as if he couldn’t physically get the words out.
We laid there, him gliding his hand over my tummy, back and forth, in easy strokes and an even easier silence, for much longer than I normally stayed after my last class of the night. My emotions ratcheted with each effortless second that passed between us—the beauty of being with Nixon had filled me to the brim until I was certain my words and heart would burst at a moment’s notice. I couldn’t deny how I felt about him, despite trying to guard my heart, but I couldn’t allow myself to speak those truths, either.
Not yet.
Not as I gazed at him, his focus on my belly, his touch gentle as he lightly stroked me there. The baby…he was so in love with this baby.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the only thing he was in love with.
My stomach took that second of doubt to grumble, and Nixon laughed as he glanced up at me.
“What would you like tonight?” he asked, shifting so he could stand. He helped haul me to my feet, and I hurried about my closing duties while I contemplated.
“Hot wings,” I said after I’d cleaned everything up.
Nixon huffed a laugh. “Again?”
I shrugged, flicking off the lights as we exited the studio. “What the baby wants…”
“The baby gets,” he finished for me.
He wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders, tucking me in close as we walked down the block. I settled into him, into the comfortable yet hungry energy between us, and let myself simply revel in the happiness.
Happiness I hadn’t even known possible until that fateful night in Vegas with Nixon Noble.
* * *
“A flea market?” I asked as Nixon interlaced our fingers and tugged us toward the historic fairgrounds in Raleigh. The early morning sun offered just enough warmth to combat the cooler October temperatures. “This is my surprise date?”
Nixon paused before the entrance, his face pinched. “Am I way off base here?” he asked, genuine concern filling his eyes.
I tilted my head. “You’re not serious, are you?”
He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I’m sorry, Liberty. It was a dumb idea. We can go wherever you want. I just thought—”
“Thought that rummaging through vintage items all day would be my absolute favorite thing in the world?”
His eyebrows raised.
“Well,” I said, shrugging as I stepped closer to him. I trailed my finger down the center of his hard chest. “Second favorite thing.”
A wicked smirked shaped his lips, and he drew me in for a kiss. “So, I was right?”
“Yes!” I nodded, practically bouncing on my toes as he led us through the entrance. When he’d told me last week he had a surprise date for me and that I had to keep my morning clear, I’d immediately cleared the entire day and night, telling him if he was to have the morning, then I’d surprise him at night. And with what I had planned? We were going to be exhausted by the end of this day.
“Hey, you two!” Teagan called out as she rushed to greet us. We paused near a furniture vender off the entrance, and I wrapped her in a quick hug.
“Nix,” Roman said, quickly trailing her. “Hey, Liberty.” He flashed me a smile, stopping a healthy distance away from Teagan, his hands casually in his pockets.
Nixon: A Raleigh Raptors Novel Page 15
