by Stacey Lynn
“Just don’t crash her.”
“Never do,” Frank said as he opened the driver’s door and slid inside. He peeled out onto the street so fast I wondered if he’d looked for traffic first.
As the lights disappeared around the first corner and the sound of screeching tires evaporated, the smell of burned rubber remained.
“Come on.” Oliver tugged on my hand, and I stumbled on my feet, trying to catch up to him.
I’d assumed he’d brought me to the hotel for a random hookup, treating me like any random woman he’d picked up off the streets. His conversation and obvious affection for Frank told me something different was happening.
We didn’t stop as we walked through the lobby. Oliver moved quickly and with purpose, and when we reached the bank of six elevators, he pulled me toward the farthest one and slid a key through a reader before pressing the button.
The door opened immediately and we stepped inside, my mind still whirling with the quickness of how everything had happened. Had he checked into the room earlier?
“Frank’s been the doorman at this place for almost twenty years. Lost his wife to cancer shortly after I met him. From what I’ve been able to figure out about him, he doesn’t have much in his life, so when I stay here he drives my car for a few minutes before parking it in the valet.”
It was a really long explanation that didn’t answer any of my questions. Like, what made Oliver begin speaking to him in the first place? How did he take the time to learn all of that, and what had happened that made them seem so close?
It all contradicted his assurances of being an asshole.
I stared at Oliver through the mirrored reflection of the elevator door, too nervous to face him, too scared of what he’d see on my face. Yet as everything began clicking into place, I couldn’t stop the smile.
“Asshole,” I teased. “Right. You’re such a prick.”
His eyes widened and he stepped in front of me, pushing me to the back of the elevator without touching me.
His strength and his size made him immoveable in front of me and I couldn’t see around him to see the look of surprise I knew was on my face.
“Have I told you tonight how sexy you look in my team’s jersey?”
I was in jeans and sandals and an oversized jersey with Beaux’s number on it. My hair was pulled back so the wild curls stayed out of my face during the game.
There was nothing sexy about how I was dressed, yet when Oliver began trailing a finger along the length of my jaw, I felt like I was in a ball gown.
“You might have forgotten that part.”
He leaned forward. His hand on my jaw tightened and held me in place. “Forgive me.”
His lips pressed to mine, stealing my breath, and I clung to him immediately. It’d been days. My body ached for him immediately.
He held me against the wall with the frame of his body, and the kiss changed from soft and seeking until he devoured me. His tongue slid along the seam of my mouth and pushed through before I could receive him, but I met him then, kissing him back and raising my hands to his shoulders so I could get closer. Deeper.
A thud sounded on the floor and then his hand was at my waist, pulling me toward him, ripping my shirt from my waistband until his hand was pressing against the small of my back.
The chime of the door and the sudden stop of the elevator made him jump and we separated, both of us breathless, his dark hazel eyes more tawny than green. Mine were just as wild as he looked down at me, his gaze tracing every feature in my face.
“When we get inside my place, we’re going straight to my room where I’m going to spread you out all over my bed, taste every inch of your skin, and eat you until you’re screaming my name and begging for more.”
My mouth went dry and wetness seeped into my panties. Everything he said did that to me. He had a way of looking at me like I was the only woman he’d ever seen. Like stripping me naked and making me bare for him was his highest priority.
“You say such filthy things,” I whispered as he bent to grab the bag he’d dropped earlier.
“You fucking like it.”
I did. I didn’t argue with him about it. I wanted sex with him and his filthy words more than I cared to admit. Even when my sex life with Patrick had been at the pinnacle, we were always more of a one-and-done couple when it came to sex and orgasms.
Multiples in one night had been rare.
With Oliver, I knew the opposite with him would hold true. He wasn’t the kind of man to stop until he’d gotten everything he wanted. Lucky me that he seemed to want me.
At the very least, he wanted my body. My heart could take it. I had gone into this eyes wide open, understanding everything that was happening between us.
So I would take my screaming orgasms whether they happened in a hotel or a house, and hopefully I’d be able to deliver some of my own to him.
Chapter TEN
OLIVER
Her hand in mine, my hand on her skin, the buzzing of the door behind us, I was only thinking one thing.
Bringing her to the hotel room I kept during the season was as big of a mistake as taking her to my home. When this was over, I wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere to escape the memory of her flushed cheeks, wild hair, and her body splayed out wherever and however I wanted.
“You want that?” I asked, when she didn’t answer me the first time. I pulled her out of the elevator, walking backward so we stayed pressed together. Fuck. I couldn’t get enough of her. Seeing her at the game, cheering on her feet, her smile wide and unrestrained when I scored a touchdown had twisted something inside me.
The only thing I didn’t like was that she’d done all of that with Beaux’s number plastered to her generous breasts instead of mine.
“You want me eating you, sucking and licking your pussy until you come, over and over again? Until you’re so sore you think you can’t take any more?”
She nodded frantically, unable to hide her lust for me, and fuck if it wasn’t perfection. She had no motives. No hidden agenda. She wanted my dick and my body, and I didn’t give one shit if I was using her.
She was using me, too.
“Yes. Yes, I want that.”
I dropped my hand from her back only long enough to dig my keycard out of my pocket and slide it through the door. There were only two rooms on this floor and I knew the other owner.
A country singer whose visits to The Mayfield Tower were as sporadic as mine. We’d actually gotten drunk together one night in the bar downstairs and then, like jackasses, autographed our names onto each other’s skin with permanent marker.
My team had just lost the AFC Championship game earlier that night and Bethany had been plastered all over the gossip rags for screwing another country singer—a married one. She swore she had thought they were already divorced. The fact that they were legally separated never made it into the papers or the gossip columns, so Bethany and I had bonded over failed nights and shitty decisions.
She became a friend after that and I knew she was on tour, currently playing in arenas all over the western part of the country.
For once, I was thankful she wasn’t around to see my one-night stand leaving in the morning and that she couldn’t possibly hear us through the walls.
“So you have both,” Shannon said as we stepped inside and the door shut behind us.
“What?” I shot her a quizzical look.
She waved her hand out to the large living room. The suite wasn’t overly large or ostentatious. Two bedrooms with king-sized beds. A passable living space and a small kitchen. I didn’t need large and massive. I needed a place to fuck and crash on the nights I didn’t want to drive back to my home late at night, or when we had to get up early to leave for a game and I didn’t want to get stuck in morning traffic.
It worked, and besides clothes, there wasn’t a personal effect around. At first I had thought this would make it a better place to bring Shannon. Her curiosity knew no bounds. I was quickl
y learning that she didn’t need photographs and decorations to figure out who I was, or who I used to be. She saw enough as it was.
“I asked you at Kolby’s if you had a home or a crash pad. You have both.”
“Right. I keep this place during the season. It’s easier to get to the fields.”
“And to fuck faceless women.”
Yeah, she saw too damn much. Unfortunately, I was also quickly learning that she’d never be faceless. Her face and the memory of her would linger in this damn place and in my home long after the scent of her was gone.
“You need something to drink?” I dropped her bag and headed to the kitchen area that would be stocked with drinks and food for me. I didn’t cook when I stayed there, but I made sure I had other food to eat and protein drinks.
After a game like tonight’s, I usually downed a few of them.
My head wasn’t thinking about nutrition at the moment, but on changing the fucking subject.
“I’m not offended,” she said, following me. “I was just curious.”
“Don’t be,” I clipped, harsher than I intended. I saw the look of pain flash in her eyes. But it’d do her good. If she wanted to walk away, it’d probably be better for both of us.
I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to do it.
“You’re awfully temperamental for someone who’s made it clear what they’re looking for.”
Stunned from her flippant remark, I stood frozen while she walked around me and helped herself to a bottle of water from the small fridge. I took in the curve of her ass, the way the stupid-ass rhinestones on the pockets were like a homing beacon for my eyes.
“Get over here, Shannon.”
My voice deepened. My hands balled into fists. She had too many clothes on and too much sass in her. I planned on fucking it all out of her.
She shut the fridge and turned to me, twisting the top off the water bottle and taking a long sip. Nervousness flashed in her chocolaty eyes before she could hide it. “Are you going to be nice to me?”
“No.” I shook my head, letting my intention be clear in the slow movement and the drawl of my voice. “I plan on being very, very filthy with you. I’m also certain I just told you to do something.”
The bottle shook in her tight grip as she set it off to the side.
She made her way to me, three long, slow strides. Fuck if she didn’t know what she was doing. Listening, but disobeying at the same time.
I knew her game. She’d give me what I wanted, but it’d be in her own time, her own way.
I pressed my hand against my hardening cock as she closed the space between us, her eyes gleaming with pure intent and unabashed lust.
Fuck if she wasn’t beautiful. I’d thought it the first time I saw her in the stands at the training camp. She didn’t know that. I wasn’t planning on telling her how much the fact that she’d been there—cheering for everyone but separated from the large crowd of fans—had turned me on from halfway across the field.
She gave everything her all while holding herself back, a dichotomy I wanted to understand more than I should.
“Now that I’m here?” she asked, her hands held loosely at her sides as she tilted her head. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Take off the jersey.” Someday I’d fuck her while she wore nothing but mine. My number would be on the fabric abrading her nipples while I slammed into her. The last thing I wanted when I dirtied her up was her brother anywhere in the room.
Her hands went to the hem and she crossed her arms before pulling it over her head in slow…fucking…motion.
I pushed down the urge to smack her ass. People, women especially, didn’t play games with me. They bent to my will as soon as I crooked my fingers. Someone else drawing out anticipation wasn’t something I was accustomed to.
I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would.
I licked my lips as her hair bounced and flopped from the movement of the shirt being ripped over her head. I trailed my eyes over her beautiful skin. The curve of her sides, the soft indentations around her abs that told me she worked out but didn’t kill herself doing it.
“Take your hair down.”
“Are you going to touch me or make me do all the work?” She teased while her hands went to her hair. She tugged and pulled and untwisted a band in her hair until she dropped it to the floor along with her jersey.
Her hair tumbled and fell all over the place and her hands went to smooth out the wild waves.
“Don’t. You’re fucking sexy as hell when your hair is untamed.”
“It’s a mess.” The blush burned her cheeks and it was the first time since she’d begun her seductive dance that there was hesitancy in them.
I reached out and trailed my hand through her hair, tangling my fingers in it before I yanked her against my body and looked down at her.
“If I didn’t think you were so damn sexy, you wouldn’t be here. I know what I want and it’s you, as messed up and dirtied as I can possibly make you.”
Her pulse kicked up, a jump of blood beating faster in a vein behind her ear. My thumb brushed it before I stepped back and removed my own shirt.
“Your bra,” I said, when she stood frozen, staring at my chest. I flexed my muscles and made her eyes jump to mine. “Take it off.”
“Your pants,” she bravely ordered as her hands went to the back of her bra. I heard the click of the satiny fabric unsnap before she winked at me. “Take them off.”
My hands went to my hips. “I don’t think you understand who’s in charge here.”
But damn if being on the receiving end wasn’t sexy as hell.
“I’m not someone who sits on the sidelines and blindly follows orders.”
We’d see about that. Someday I’d have her blindfolded and following orders and she’d love it.
My hand went to the zipper of my dress pants and I dropped them so they pooled at my feet before I kicked off my shoes and socks.
My boxers were next. They fell to the floor and I wrapped my hand around my cock, keeping my eyes on her until she followed my movement.
“Get naked and get over here,” I said, walking to the counter. I didn’t take my eyes off her while her fingers fumbled at the button of her jeans and then her zipper.
“Beautiful,” I murmured, the praise falling unbidden from my lips. With curves and tits and legs for days, I didn’t know where to start with her.
I dropped my hand from my dick and gripped her hips, lifting her and placing her at the edge of the counter. She was so short that fucking her from behind hadn’t been easy. At this height, I could slide my dick straight into her.
“Spread your legs and place your palms on the counter behind you.”
“Oliver,” she whispered, her voice husky. “I’m already wet for you.”
“I know.” I smirked. “And I want to see it, watch you play with yourself before I fuck you and eat you and do all the things to you I’ve already promised.”
Another dozen ideas flashed through my mind as she slid her legs further apart. Her wetness, her desire for me, slickened the insides of her thighs and made her pussy pink and glistening.
Fuck, she was beautiful. I wanted my come all over her. Her tits, her ass, her stomach. I wanted to mark her. Claim her.
She’s temporary.
My lip curled at the loud reminder shouting at me, but my dick was in charge all over again.
“Wider,” I demanded and began tugging on my dick so she could see what she was doing to me. “Slide your fingers through your pussy.”
Her muscles tightened at my command. Little breathless pants fell from her lips. Her chest heaved, making her breasts shake with the movement. Every time they did, I wanted to wrap my lips around the hardened, darkened nipples until my mouth was full of her.
“Help me,” she whispered, adjusting herself on the counter but still listening. “I want you to help me.”
“Help you come?”
I received an im
mediate nod.
“No fucking way. This first time you’re doing it yourself, showing me what you like and what you want. Show me what you did to yourself this week when you were alone in bed, naked and thinking of me.”
My eyes met hers when she inhaled a gasp.
Dirty, dirty girl. God, I loved that. The look she gave me made my cock harden even more.
“You did, didn’t you? You slid your fingers deep inside your pussy, only to be frustrated it wasn’t my cock inside you.”
“Shit.” She gasped as her fingers began sliding around her clit. Her fingernails were painted a light pink, lighter than her flesh. The sounds of her wet sex filled the room, magnified by her quick breaths.
“Yes,” she whispered, her hips bucking into her hand. “I thought of you.”
It was all I wanted to hear, needed to hear it more than I understood.
I stepped forward and continued running my hand down my long and heavy and hot shaft. My head brushed against her clit as she teased herself. I couldn’t wait to be inside her, but I wanted to drive her crazy first.
My balls were already pulled tight, my spine heated as her fingers continued pressing against her flesh, her clit, slow circles then fast as she widened her legs and her inner thigh muscles began to tremble.
“Do it,” I whispered, not taking my eyes off her quivering pussy. “Fuck yourself and let me see you come.”
“Oh God,” she whimpered.
I pressed against her thigh with one hand to hold her steady. She rubbed more, teased more, slid her fingers inside and around her lips until her fingers shone from her own wetness.
“Oliver.” Her hips pressed and rolled. “So close.”
I teased her with the head of my cock, getting it wet from her own ministrations.
And then she shattered beneath me. Every part of her tightened and bucked with abandon. She fell back, and I leaned forward until I could taste her pussy. Then I ate her.
Her hand went to my hair as I strung out her orgasm, pulled it from deep inside her as my teeth and tongue took over.
