Bad Ballers: A Contemporary Sports Romance Box Set
Page 66
"Did you like that kiss? It was a little hard to tell from the way you slapped me and all."
She giggled some more, and the sound was like music to my ears. I was getting a hard on just thinking about kissing her again, and that didn't even include all the other stuff I wanted to do to her. I swallowed the rest of my champagne and decided I'd better stop before I got too drunk to drive home.
"I'm sorry about that slap, but you deserved it, you know."
I shrugged and flashed my million-watt smile at her. This time, it had the reaction I had long been searching for. She smiled back. Her eyes sparkled that dazzling ocean blue. I reached across the table and stroked her hand with one finger. She stopped giggling and stared back at me. I could see the perspiration beading on her upper lip as she began to heat up. Her scent filled my nostrils. I longed to know whether she was wet between her thighs. If I reached down there now, what would I find?
"Do you want to blow this place?" I asked. "We can go somewhere more low key. They close soon anyway."
"I think... I think maybe I should just go home," she said.
"Yours or mine?" I teased, disappointment rising in me.
"Mine," she said, smiling and rising from the table. I sighed. I'd thought we were making such progress. I couldn't let her slip through my fingers, but it wasn't like I could force her to stay either. She tripped as we made our way to the door and almost slammed her head into the pavement before I caught her. The contents of her purse spilled over the ground, and the doorman rushed to pick it all up. Her hands wrapped tightly around my neck. Our bodies pressed together as I helped her up.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Mmm hmm," she said.
"Are you sure you can drive?"
"I only had as much as you," she said.
I cocked one eyebrow at her. Her hands were still wrapped around my neck. She either didn't notice or didn't care. "But I weigh twice as much as you."
"So you get to drink more? That's not fair!" she pouted and fell into a spell of giggles.
"Wow, you really are kind of a lightweight, aren't you? Maybe I should just take you home. Where do you live?"
"Brookside."
"Okay, no problem. You can leave your car here and get it in the morning."
"Maybe that's a good idea," she said, finally letting go of my neck. I was sorry to lose the velvet feel of her hands against my skin. She took her purse from the doorman with a thanks.
"This is mine over here," I said, opening the door to my Porsche for her. She slid into the seat next to mine and I started up the car.
"Ready?" I asked.
"And willing," she said, batting her lashes playfully. "Thanks for the ride."
We peeled out of the parking lot and were almost to her apartment before she realized she didn't have her keys.
"Shit!" she said, throwing her purse to the floor.
"What?"
"I don't have my keys!"
"Hey, it's alright. I'm sure they're here somewhere. Did you check all your pockets?" I reached out to touch her cheek, hoping to calm her down.
"Yes!" she snapped. "Of course I checked my pockets. I'm not stupid." She slapped my hand away harder than I would have expected, and for a second I got distracted, paying more attention to her than to where I was going. When I looked back at the road, I realized we were headed straight for a tree.
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Copyright © 2018 by S.J. Bishop
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