Filthy Player

by Stacey Lynn

  I’d let her rest soon.

  “Hold on tight, then, honey. I’m going to sink inside you and lose all control.”

  She dropped her head and her fingers tightened around the top slat of my headboard.

  I went back to kissing her shoulders, her quivering arms as she held on. I pushed my dick through her center again, gathering her moisture and then I was sliding my hands down her hips, lining myself up.

  And I fucking slammed home so harshly her back bowed and her head threw back, brown sheets of hair flying all over the place.

  “Beaux!” she cried out.

  I shoved deep inside her, bottoming out and my balls slapping against her. “Fuck. Yes.”

  “Move,” she groaned when I stayed there, her cunt clenching and pulsing around my thickness, like she’d never been so full. I gave her another moment to adjust to my size and pulled out.

  The need to release burned in my spine, heating my lower back, but I still forced myself to focus on her.

  With one hand I held on to her hip, and the other moved to her front, back to her still swollen bundle of nerves, and then I moved.

  I propelled my hips against her, the sounds of flesh slapping and her moans and my grunts filled the room.

  It was perfect. She gave herself to me freely, so damn wildly and unhindered. She was the kind of woman who would allow me to do whatever I wanted with her body.

  I’d had weeks of planning fantasies. They rushed through my mind, burned into my brain while I thrust into her, until I felt her orgasm begin to take her over.

  I pulled out.

  “Beaux!” I flipped her to her back and then I was over her, needing to see her face when she came. I needed her to see what she was doing to me. I pushed back inside of her, gripping her hip, falling to an elbow, so damn close to her.

  Her legs went to my hips and she rocked against me, taking as much as she was giving, and hell if a woman chasing her own orgasms wasn’t the sweetest thing ever.

  “Come,” I grunted, “Come with me, Paige.”

  I adjusted, hit her in her sweet spot, and her hands came to my arms. Nails dug in, clinging to me while she orgasmed and I moved, hips slapping hers once. Twice. Three more times before the tightness of her gripped my cock and refused to let go.

  I settled balls deep inside of her and shoved my face into her throat, groaning her name as I came deep inside of her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  PAIGE

  My heart was thumping against his bedsheets and my knuckles ached from clawing at them. I knew Beaux would surpass any expectations I had of him in bed, but nothing could have prepared me for that.

  I was sated. I wanted to do it all over again and again. I’d be sore in the morning but holy cow that was absolutely totally worth it.

  His large, warm hand came down and brushed my hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear. He’d gotten up to use the restroom and clean up. “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah.” I gave him a lazy smile and rolled to my side. From the moment Beaux set me on his bed and settled his intensity on pleasing me, I’d lost all self-conscious thoughts about my body.

  He’d liked what he saw so I didn’t bother covering up.

  “You wore me out,” I told him, my hand drifting to his abs. He was still naked and my gaze went straight to his length. Thick and heavy even now, I couldn’t help but admire him. “It’s been awhile.”

  “I figured that out when you lit up for me as soon as I got my mouth on you.”

  “What?” I jerked up, propping myself up with a hand on the bed.

  He dropped his head, shoulders shaking from laughing. “I’m not complaining, Paige.”

  I huffed and wiggled closer to him. “Well, I was going to give you all the credit for that, but now I don’t think I will.”

  “Right. You just came three times. I’ll take the credit whether or not you want to give it.”

  It hadn’t been three. Just two, really long and fantastic orgasms I’d never forget. “You’re arrogant.”

  He kissed the top of my head and wrapped an arm around me, holding me tight against him. “You like it.”

  My eyes closed as I breathed in his scent. Gosh, this guy. I waffled between wanting to jump him and strangle him at all hours, but I think I liked that, too.

  Things with Beaux would never be boring.

  “Yeah. I like it.”

  “And you like me.”

  I grinned up at him. “More now than the first night we met.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, rolling us so I was on top of him. My legs fell over his narrow hips, and I dropped closer, so we were chest to chest.

  My body shivered. He drew reactions from me that couldn’t be helped.

  “We need to get you cleaned up.”

  “Uh-huh.” I played with his hair, my body arching into him. With every brush of my sex against him, I felt him harden. “Yeah. I need to wash up.”

  “Then we’ll shower,” he said. He moved his knees as if to move us, but I pressed against his chest.

  “Later,” I whispered, brushing my lips over his jaw, over to his mouth. “I want more of you first.”

  “Good God woman, you’re going to break me.”

  He’d probably break me, but I liked knowing he was just as affected by me if not more so. He also quit arguing. Our mouths fused together and we grinned against each other until my slickness rubbed against his tip.

  “Condom,” he groaned and rolled me off him. “Hold on, crazy.”

  I laughed against his throat before releasing him. I wasn’t crazy. Not in this sense. I was always a one and done kind of girl, and typically had no problems climaxing. But this was different. More animalistic need than chemistry or desire.

  Something deep inside me urged a connection with Beaux and while I had him, I was taking everything from him I could.

  Sheathed, he returned to me. His hands wrapped around my thighs and he spread me open.

  Then he was there, at my entrance. Pushing in. I watched, forcing my eyes to keep from rolling back into my head at the absolutely, unfathomable pleasure his size filled me with.

  “Beaux,” I whispered, tipping my head back. “God, you feel good.”

  “Yeah,” he grunted, pulling out and pushing in. He teased me until he was fully inside me, settled to the root of him and it was glorious.

  I pressed my fingers to the back of his neck and angled my head and he kissed me.

  Then he moved. Dropping to his elbows, he shoved his hands into mine. I’d never imagined being restrained during sex, but I really liked that when Beaux was in me, he held my hands. It was confining, but intimate, as if he needed every single inch of us connected.

  We clung together while we moved. Gone was the frenetic pace of earlier. This was two bodies molding together, fused in the closest, most intimate way possible. My fingers dug into the backs of his hands. I could only touch him where allowed, but it was all I needed.

  This.

  This moment.

  This blissful, beautiful, moment where all I saw and felt was Beaux and all I heard were our sighs and grunts.

  They filled the room like mystical music. A symphonic sound that reverberated in my ears and echoed down, deep within me.

  “Beaux,” I cried out, arching into him. My mouth was at his shoulder, breath panting, heart feeling like I was soaring.

  It was too much.

  “Come, Paige.” He thrust deep inside of me, making me cry out. My ankles tightened on his back, slippery from his sweat-lined flesh. “Fucking come.”

  His grunts grew frantic along with his pace and my lower back was burning with my impending release.

  I clawed his hands and sank my teeth into his shoulder, crying out against the onslaught as everything exploded into a cacophony of sounds and ecstatic pleasure.

  “Beaux—”

  “Yes,” he groaned and slammed in deep. He came as my orgasm rolled through me. Our hearts pounded against each other’s c
hests and he collapsed onto me, giving me all his weight.

  When he released my hands, I wrapped them around his back, clinging to him like I couldn’t get enough.

  “Shit,” I breathed, my chest pained from the exertion and content at the same time. An odd mixture of adrenaline and pleasure coursed through me and made my body tremble as the aftershocks subsided.

  I was still catching my breath as he slowly pulled out and looked down at me.

  “Beautiful. You’re absolutely fantastic.”

  “So are you.”

  I pressed my hand to his cheek. He turned and kissed my palm. His eyes were fixed on me like they’d been so often over the last several hours, not examining; memorizing.

  I melted further into the sheets. His softened look, his messy hair, and his gentle way of treasuring me after being so wild and crazed threatened to undo me.

  “We need to clean up,” he said.

  “Yeah.” My breath was a mere whisper as if sounds would be too harsh in the aftermath of what we’d experienced.

  “I also feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

  “And look where it got us.” I grinned.

  His eyes lit with the brightest blue and he dipped down to me. “Yeah. Look what it got me.”

  Beautiful. I shivered from the depth of his emotion he poured out with a look.

  “I’ll use the restroom. Be right back.”

  He offered me a brief kiss, one I greedily took, and then I kept my eyes on him, turning to watch him stroll into the bathroom.

  He came back with a wet cloth and he wiped me, the warmth from it and the gesture sent goose bumps skittering down my skin.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “Then use the restroom and get back in bed. I’ll go close up the house.” He opened a dresser drawer and tugged on a deliciously perfect fitting pair of boxer briefs.

  I scooped up the T-shirt from the floor he’d discarded earlier and went to the bathroom.

  When I was done, I sat back down on his bed, crisscross style and stared at the frames he had on his wall.

  I’d been drawn to them earlier. They showed Beaux at various ages. There was an article titled, “Sophomore Quarterback Headlines at State. Gets The Win for Lincoln.” On the front page of the sports section of the Des Moines Register was Beaux, sitting on the shoulders of his teammates as they carried him off the field. He had his helmet in his hand, high above his head and his same hair was flopping and flying.

  He was younger then, his face still more boy than man, but it was clear even then he’d grow up to be handsome as all get out.

  Then the articles and a few endorsement photos filled the rest of the space. College, his year as a backup quarterback in Minnesota before he was transferred. There was even one of him wearing nothing and holding a football over his groin for an Under Armour Ad.

  I kept going back to the photo of him in high school. It showed pure thrill, the pure love of the game and as I tracked the rest of the ads and articles, absolutely nothing had changed.

  This wasn’t a job.

  This wasn’t about the money.

  He freaking loved the hell out of the sport he was playing.

  “Here,” Beaux said, yanking me out of my admiration. “Call your dad.”

  My eyes darted to his to see him holding my phone in his hand.

  I pulled it from his hand. “Is everything okay?”

  I looked down at the screen but there weren’t any missed calls.

  “Don’t know,” he grinned. “I just know you’ll sleep better if you check in before you go to bed, and I’m fucking wiped.”

  “Someone wear you out?”

  “Yes.” He kissed the top of my head and moved toward the bathroom. “And I’m not complaining.”

  He was right. I hadn’t spent the night away from my dad since I moved back home.

  Fortunately, it only rang once before Melanie answered, “Halloway Residence.”

  “Hi, Melanie, it’s Paige.”

  “Oh, hi! Are you calling to talk to your dad? I’ve just helped him get to bed for the night but I can go get him.”

  “No.” A breath I didn’t realize I was holding escaped, releasing pressure from my chest. “No, it’s okay. I was just calling to see how he’s doing.”

  “Well, we watched six hours of Lethal Weapon movies today.”

  “So, good then.” If he wasn’t watching ESPN, something with Mel Gibson in it was usually on.

  “He’s fine, Paige. I gave him his meds a few hours ago, but mostly he napped and we watched movies. Truly, he’s one of the easiest patients I’ve ever had.”

  “Easy?”

  Her light laugh tinkled through the phone. “Okay. He’s a bit grumpy, and a whole lot stubborn, but that’s to be expected. I can handle him, I assure you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, just as Beaux came out of the bathroom. He walked up to the bed and climbed on, pulling me onto his lap as he moved. “I really appreciate your help. I should be back tomorrow morning.”

  “No rush. I’m here for the long haul. And if there’s anything else you need, I can always help with light cooking or cleaning if you need.”

  “Oh, that’s not—”

  “It’s my job, Paige. And truly, you’re helping me keep busy when your father’s sleeping.”

  Goodness. How did this become my life? Help for my dad and help around the house? Beaux wrapped his arms around my waist and I relaxed into his strong, warm embrace.

  “Thank you. I still appreciate it. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sounds good. Enjoy yourself tonight.”

  Heat hit my cheeks and chest. She hadn’t implied anything, but it produced vivid flashbacks I never wanted erased.

  “Good night, Melanie.”

  She returned the goodbye and I set my phone on the nightstand.

  “I don’t have any way to thank you or pay you back for helping with my dad,” I said to Beaux. My vision went blurry as I spoke and I pressed my eyes closed. “There are no words.”

  “Don’t need ‘em. I’m happy to help. And don’t forget it’s part selfish on my part, too.”

  It didn’t matter. If this was Beaux being selfish, he was still more selfless than anyone I’d ever met.

  “Still, thank you. It means a lot to me.”

  “I’m not your ex, Paige, and someday you’ll start believing it. I have no desire to walk away from you.”

  It was uncanny how much he understood me. He knew my fears, my uncertainties before I did. I shoved my face into the crook of his neck and shoulder to hide my emotions.

  His hand slid up and down my back, soothing me. How did I get so damn lucky?

  “Ready for bed?” he asked.

  I shook my head against his shoulder. “I need to brush my teeth. It’s in my purse downstairs.”

  He pushed me away from him and pointed to his dresser where my purse was sitting. “I brought your purse up when I saw your phone next to it. Have at it and hurry back.”

  I did what I was told and by the time I returned, Beaux had fixed the covers and pillows we’d destroyed earlier and was already in bed.

  We snuggled up together, spoke quietly as he flicked through a few news channels, and I was out, completely out, within moments, with Beaux’s arm around me, my thigh draped over his, and feeling more rested and relaxed than I had in years.

  The man was a superhero.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  PAIGE

  I’d had almost two weeks of bliss. I went to the garage in the morning, helped the mechanics on jobs so they could focus on the ’64 Camaro. We were searching for parts so in between oil changes and fluid re-fillings and car cleanings, I was spending most of the time searching vendors and vintage junkyards for all original pieces.

  So far, it was slow going, but we were committed.

  After the workday was done, I was able to go home and spend the rest of the evening with my dad. I sp
ent a handful of nights with Beaux, but the others I stayed at home with my dad and his nurse, Melanie.

  With my dad recovering nicely, his pain lessening by the day, he was awake for longer periods. After he went to bed at night, I was finally able to relax for the first time since moving home.

  I needed it. Twice I fell asleep on the couch at nine o’clock and didn’t wake up until six when my alarm went off. Once, I’d poured a glass of wine and fell asleep before I ever took a sip. I hadn’t realized how run down I’d become until I was given the time to do nothing.

  I poured my appreciation into my time with Beaux. We did dinner on Wednesday. I went over there later on Thursday after dad was in bed, and Friday and Saturday we didn’t see each other.

  Now, Melanie and I were helping my dad into his wheelchair and guiding him to the suite Kolby had provided, all with the assistance of two security guards courtesy of Beaux.

  My mouth had dropped when we’d parked in the underground parking garage connected to the stadium and John and Ryan had introduced themselves to us. They’d said Beaux had requested them to escort us for the day, courtesy of stadium security.

  That wasn’t my first clue being with Beaux was life-changing in more than one way, but it was one of the most jolting.

  Being with Beaux required security?

  We were taken to a private elevator to the floor of our suite and then another life-changing realization hit me as we stepped into the suite.

  It was a suite the size of Rhode Island.

  My breath stalled as soon as we entered. The stadium had recently undergone massive renovations and the suites had definitely been included.

  We’d arrived early to ensure plenty of time to get my dad settled and Kolby’s mom, Charlayne, and his daughter, Mya were nowhere in sight.

  “Holy cannoli,” Melanie whispered, her eyes wide open and awed as we entered.

  “Now this is what I’m talking about!” Dad exclaimed. “My kind of way to watch the game.”

  I was more than impressed. I was floored. Black leather chairs. Three tall bar-height tables. There was a small kitchen area where a waiter, someone at our beck and call for drinks and food, stood waiting dressed in all black with a white towel tossed over his shoulder.