Squeezing it, he let his head fall back on a groan. “You like watching?”
“I like participating,” was all she said, before dropping to her knees and wrapping her hot mouth around the tip.
He growled a curse, letting go of his dick and shoving his hands into her wet hair, careful not to hurt her.
She let the tip fall out but, before he could voice his protest, she’d taken him in her mouth again. This time, she’d swallowed half his length.
“Can you take more, sweetness?” he asked.
Dark blue eyes gazed up at him. Pink lips were wrapped around him. He was going to die right then and there.
“You can do it.” He carefully thrust his hips forward. “For me, baby.”
Her eyes closed as she pulled back, sliding forward again. Over and over she did this, until she nearly swallowed his cock. He fisted his hands in her hair, gauging her reaction before he started pumping into her mouth.
If she didn’t like it, if she made any little sound that remotely sounded like pain, then he would stop.
He widened his stance, the suction of her hot, wet mouth making his legs shake. Her tongue got in on the action and, every now and then, she’d lick the entire length of him.
“Doing good, baby.”
She cupped his balls, and he let out a hoarse shout. She worked him over like no one ever had before with her talented mouth and hands. Only years of training and forced delayed gratification kept him from exploding in her mouth.
“Gonna come,” he grunted, trying to pull away.
She dug her hands into his ass and stayed with him.
Until the end.
Ashley stood, a Cheshire grin on her face. “Ready to wash my back now?”
“I’ll wash any damn thing you want.” He soaped up her back, her sweet little ass, and perky breasts. And when he was finished rinsing her off, he got on his knees and made good on his promise to put his mouth between her thighs.
She screamed his name so loud that Bluebelle came running to check on them.
“Tell her you’re okay,” he ordered, kissing his way up her stomach to her breasts. She had nice nipples. Pale pink and perfect for his mouth.
He rolled his tongue around one.
“I-I’m ffff-fine, Bluebelle,” she managed to say.
“That’s a good girl.” He sucked the tight little bud into his mouth and then paid attention to the other one. “Perfect, Ashley. Perfect.”
Her hands tunneled through his hair, holding him close. “You’re too good to be true,” she said softly.
Chapter Nine
They stayed in the shower until the water ran cold and her lips felt like they were turning blue.
Ryan wrapped her up in a towel and rubbed his hands briskly up and down her arms. Kissing her nose, he said, “Yard’s done.”
So was she. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. “Thank you.”
He glanced at the clock on her cell. “You have exactly fifty-three minutes to finish getting ready.”
She let out a squeal. “Oh crap. I have to finish decorating my dining room table and setting out the food.”
“Want me to take care of that?” he asked, his dark eyes serious as he pulled on his sweatpants—sans boxer briefs.
“No… you’ve already done enough,” she said, suddenly feeling shy.
“Are we still on for Friday?”
She tilted her head to one side. “Did you do all that in the shower, just so I’d be more agreeable to let Bluebelle and Gunner play?”
“No ma’am,” he said in slow drawl that gave her goose bumps. “I did that to hear you scream my name.”
Her cheeks heated. “Well, then. Bluebelle and I would be delighted to join y’all.”
He grinned and then crossed the small distance between them, capturing her up in a hug. “Afterwards, I thought you and I could have a play date of our own.”
Once again, her heart did a little tumble and flip, like it had a gymnastics routine that only he inspired. “I’d like that.”
Giving her one last, slow kiss, he said, “I’ll get out of your hair now, and let you finish things up.”
“See you Friday,” she called out as he turned to walk away.
“Gunner and I will meet you there, if you don’t mind,” he said, pausing at the bathroom door.
“Nope.” Feeling a bit silly over how giddy she was, she said, “You can let yourself out.”
His dark gaze raked over her, making her feel like the towel she wore was see-through. “God, you make me want to stay longer.”
“But I’ll go,” he added, leaving the room.
She sagged against the wall. Bluebelle came trotting inside, tail wagging. “I hope you thanked Ryan for getting you out of time-out. He worked hard to change my mind.”
Bluebelle let out a little woof of thanks.
“Exactly, girl,” Ashley said, and then padded to her closet.
***
Two days later, Ashley found herself getting the third degree over supper at her brother’s house.
Rhett’s mouth thinned. “Another football player?”
Ashley refused to be intimidated by his disapproval. Okay, so Rhett wasn’t disappointed—he was concerned for her. “He’s not like Dean.”
“I hate to break it to you, Ash, but every player is like Dean.”
She placed her fork on the side of her plate and wiped her mouth. “Unfair, Rhett. That would be like me telling you to never go out with another woman because they’re all like Jenny.”
Rhett’s blue eyes narrowed. “Thanks for bringing up bad memories, sis. Such a pleasure to have you over for dinner.”
Ashley threw her napkin at him. “Oh, be quiet.”
Her brother grinned. “I almost had you convinced, huh?”
That he was over what his long-term girlfriend had done to him, right after he came home from Afghanistan?
Yeah… There was no way Rhett would ever convince her he was over that.
“Almost,” she said lightly.
Rhett took his plate and headed for the sink. “When do we get to meet your new boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she snapped and began to rub her temples.
“Oh Jesus,” her brother muttered. “You haven’t turned into one of those people, have you?”
She wrinkled her nose. “One of those people?”
“The ‘our relationship isn’t defined by labels’ people.”
Right now, her relationship didn’t have a label. At all. “No. I haven’t been dating him long enough to have a label.” But she had been dating him long enough to take a shower with him. Her cheeks heated, and she was thankful that her very perceptive brother’s back was turned.
“You know the rule, Ash. Three dates and it’s meet the family time,” he said.
She groaned. “That hasn’t been instituted since college.”
“You haven’t dated anyone since college,” he pointed out.
She made a face and picked up her plate, joining him at the sink to help with the dishes. “You wash, and I’ll rinse.”
“Don’t break the plates, brat.”
“Don’t be so bossy, Rhett Butler.”
This time, her brother made a face. “You would think our parents could have been a little more original with our names.”
“Could be worse.”
“Than being named after Gone with the Wind characters?”
She gave him a pointed look.
He grinned. “Forgot about Will.”
Ashley laughed. “He still fusses about me getting named after the guy instead of him. Bless his heart.”
“Frankly, I don’t give a damn, Ashley.”
She jumped, dropping the plate she was rinsing, and turned to face her other brother.
“Watch it,” Rhett called out
“Why Will Scarlett, fancy seeing you here.” Ashley mimed fanning herself.
Will muttered something under his breath and opened the fridge
. “Got anything else to eat?”
“Don’t you have a home?” Rhett asked.
“Su casa, mi casa,” Will said with a grin. His blond head dipped out of sight, as he dug through the drawers. “Score.”
“I’m not cooking again,” Rhett said, as Will straightened. “Did you know Ashley has a new boyfriend? He’s a football player.”
Will bit into the hunk of a salami and grimaced. “Really?” He shook his head. “They’re all the same, Ash. Find someone else.”
Ashley smacked the sides of her legs. “You two need to get a life. And manners,” she said, giving Will a pointed look as he ate with his hands.
“What?” He gnawed off another hunk, looking more like a boy of six instead of a man of twenty-six. “I’m hungry and didn’t want Rhett to have to cook for me.”
“You wish I’d cook for you,” Rhett said.
“I’m leaving,” she said, giving both her brothers a quick hug. “I have an early appointment tomorrow.”
“With Ryan?” Rhett asked, stretching out Ryan’s name to about fifty annoying syllables. There was no way she’d take him to meet her family until she was good and ready.
“And his dog, too,” she snapped.
Will choked on the food in his mouth. “You’re dating the Ryan Turner?”
“Gotta go.” She waved at them and made her way to the front door, which her brother had left wide open. “Were you raised in a barn, Will?”
“Damn it, Scarlett. How many times have I told you to shut the door?” Rhett shouted.
“It’s Will, you pompous, one-legged asshole,” Will shouted right back.
“Watch it, or I’ll take my leg and shove it up your ass.”
“Didn’t know you lost your dick in the war, too, buddy.”
A dish slammed against the wall. Then the table crashed into it, as a fight broke out between them. She had heard the sounds of them fighting often enough to know. By tonight, however, they’d be on the couch, drinking beer and watching ESPN, like nothing had happened.
“Brothers,” she said with a huff.
Ryan waited for J.R. Macmillan, the Avengers owner, to join him in the man’s office. It was sleek, full of old-world-style furniture, and lots of new money. At one point, J.R. had a gold-plated toilet that practically wiped your ass after using it.
The Texan walked inside, trademark cowboy hat on his balding head and cigar clamped between his lips. “Ryan, my boy. Glad you could make some time for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Ryan shook the older man’s hand.
“What’s this I hear about Dallas wanting my best player?” J.R. wasted no time getting to the point. Something Ryan had always admired.
“They want me to play for them.”
J.R. eyed him. “And what do you want to do?”
A year ago, he would have jumped at their offer. Hell, two months ago, he would have said that the Cowboys were his dream team. That finally being asked to play for them was a dream come true. But that was before he met a fiery redhead in puppy-parenting class who made him weak in the knees.
“I’m considering all of my options,” Ryan replied noncommittally.
J.R. smiled. “I’m not like most owners, willing to hold a man by the short and curlys until he cries ‘uncle’. But, I’ll need an answer soon. There’s a player I’ve had my eye on for a while now, but I heard the two of you don’t play well together.”
Ryan sucked in a breath, feeling like he’d been sucker punched. He struggled to keep a neutral face. “Dean Clark?”
“The rumors are true, then.”
He wasn’t about to badmouth another player, even if he’d sooner punch himself in the throat than play with Dean again. He didn’t want that asshole in the same country as Ashley, much less the same city.
“We got along fine,” he said tightly.
J.R.’s eyes gleamed. “Fine. Such a versatile word, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It can mean everything from ‘okay’ to ‘I’d rather have my left nut chewed off by a beaver with dull teeth than play with Dean Clark again.’”
Ryan blinked. “I didn’t say that, sir.”
“You didn’t have to, son.” JR held out his hand, and Ryan shook it. “Good talking to you, Ryan. Be sure to keep me in the loop, but I can only wait but so long. Summer training’s coming up.”
Ryan walked out of J.R.’s office, feeling conflicted over their conversation and the next step in his career—and it had everything to do with Ashley Mitchell.
Chapter Ten
Bright and early on Friday morning, Ashley met Ryan at Beauregard’s.
Gunner and Bluebelle jumped and barked at each other, their little tails wagging a mile a minute. It was obvious to everyone that they were thrilled to see each other.
“I think we need to take them off their leashes,” Ashley said.
Ryan nodded. “Yeah, they can run and play to their heart’s content while we talk.”
Her stomach dropped. She did not like the sound of that. No man she knew willingly suggested conversation when they could be running around with their dog. Especially in this place.
“Okay.” She set Bluebelle free, and Ryan did the same for Gunner, before they walked to a nearby bench situated under a large, shady oak tree.
“It’s nice today,” he said, and Ashley glanced at him. This was worse than what she’d originally thought. Weren’t they past the point of polite weather conversation? They’d seen each other’s bare butts, for goodness sake.
She adjusted her sunglasses and watched their dogs play while she worked up the nerve to ask him what was wrong. But, before she could, a couple of people spotted them and made their way over.
Of course, they wanted autographs and pictures. To Ryan’s credit, he patiently signed whatever they held out and posed for multiple shots.
When it was over, he sat down with her again and took her hand in his. That was a good sign. Or so she hoped.
He laced their fingers together. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”
Oh, God. He was going to tell her that he didn’t want to see her again.
She nodded, staring straight ahead, even as her stomach plummeted to her toes and her heart began to ache. Her stupid, foolish heart. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, too.”
“But I’m not sure if you’ll like the attention that you’ll start getting soon,” he continued. “I don’t want it to spook you. Or make you think I’m doing what I shouldn’t be. Sometimes, the press can be harsh.”
Huh? “You’re not breaking up with me?” she asked, turning to face him. “I mean… you’re not my boyfriend. Obviously.”
Ryan looked at her for a minute, and then gently removed her sunglasses, setting them on the bench. “Who else do you think I’m dating?”
She hated he could see the vulnerability that had to be showing on her face. “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t Google you anymore.”
“Then I’ll answer my own question.” He gazed directly into her eyes. “The only woman I’m dating is you.”
“Yeah, and I’m not sure why,” she blurted, even as her body got all happy at his answer.
“Because you’re the only woman I want,” he said simply. “You make me laugh. I look forward to spending time with you and Bluebelle. You don’t want to be with me because of who I am or how much money I make. Hell, sweetness, I had to bribe you into going out with me.”
“You don’t have to do that anymore,” she said softly.
“I know.” He looked away. “I want you to promise me something.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her stomach back where it should be.
“If you hear anything about me, about what I want to do with my career, you come to me. I want you to get the unvarnished truth, not the media hype or spin.” This time, his expression was deadly serious when he glanced back at her. “I’m not your ex, and I promise to talk to you first, when I decide to leave the Avengers. If
it even comes to that.”
When he decided to leave? Did this mean he was considering it? She wasn’t sure if she wanted the unvarnished truth about that. Look at what Dean had decided for her, and they’d been engaged. She and Ryan were barely dating, so why would he think she’d go anywhere with him?
In fact, her entire thought process was ridiculous. She was placing more importance on their relationship than was necessary. Instead, she would focus solely on their time together, not expecting more.
Not expecting forever.
“If I read or hear something from anyone who isn’t you, then I’ll ask.”
“Thank you.” He smiled “Ready to go play with Gunner and Bluebelle?”
“You know it.” She bolted from her seat, halfway to their dogs before she called over her shoulder, “Last one there never wins a Super Bowl ring.”
He flew past her before she could blink, stopping beside the two canines that were staring at them like they’d lost their minds. Maybe she had.
“Already won three of those, firecracker.”
Ashley blew out a breath, and then tried to catch it. “Except last year.”
Ryan grunted. “How many have you won, Ms. Designer?”
“Three less than you.”
He threw his head back and laughed at her answer. Crossing the small distance between them, he put his hands on her hips. “Another reason I like dating you,” he said, dipping his head to capture her lips in a hot kiss that left her more breathless than ever. “You give as good as you get.” Bluebelle and Gunner circled them, jumping and begging for attention. Ashley couldn’t help but grin. The day was turning out to be completely perfect.
***
That night, after Ryan took Gunner home and came back to her place, Ashley made a meal fit for an entire team of football players. She fried chicken, baked biscuits, and whipped up potatoes swimming in butter—just the way he liked them.
He fingered the ruffled hem of her apron. “Did you make this?”
She nodded happily, as she set a bowl of fried okra on the table. Those dimples of hers, the ones he found so damn sexy, appeared in her cheeks. “I like to sew. The domestic arts give me a sense of purpose. Actually, I love sewing, cooking, and planting flowers.” Her smile fell a little, as her nose wrinkled. “I probably sound super old-fashioned.”
Game For Love: All The Right Moves (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 5
