He pulled her into his lap. “Not in the least. It’s not often that people get paid to do what they love.”
Loosely wrapping her arms around his neck, she cocked her head to one side. “Does that include you?”
“I love football. Have ever since I was old enough to throw one.”
“Did you play with your dad?” she asked.
“Until the day he died,” he replied.
Sympathy covered her face. “I’m so sorry, Ryan. How old were you?”
“Twenty-two. He was seventy-one, and his heart gave out. But he got to see the very first game I played with The Outlaws.” Ryan smiled at the memory. He had flown his seventy-year-old dad out to San Francisco. Everything had been amazing to him—the stadium, the food, the players… everything.
“I’ve always been proud of you son, but this beats all,” he’d said in that deep Georgia accent of his.
“I’m so glad he was able to see you play before he passed,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. She leaned her head against his and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I bet he still watches you play on the most ginormous flat-screen television heaven has to offer.”
Yeah, he liked to think that, too. “As much as I love you sitting on my lap, I’m starving. Mind if we eat?”
Ashley practically jumped off his lap, untying her apron as she sat down beside him. She carefully folded and placed it in the chair next to her. “I have peach cobbler for dessert.”
He groaned. “Trying to make my Monday weigh-in go badly for me, sweetness?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just because I made it, it doesn’t mean you have to eat it.”
No way he wouldn’t eat it. He’d eat every damn thing she put in front of him. He handed her a plate and said, “Load it up.”
The smile she gave him made his skin tight. “But not too much,” she admonished, as he began to dig into his mashed potatoes. “Save room for me.”
He almost dropped his fork, but he quickly recovered and gave her a wink.
“My brothers want to meet you,” she said without preamble. “We have this dumb rule about three dates and a meet-and-greet, but you don’t have to abide by them.”
He knew her family was important to her, and he felt the same way about his. Every single one of his sisters was happily married with kids, and he was an uncle at least ten times over. Ashley would fit right in.
But would he fit in with her family? Would they think the worst of him, because of Dean? He knew he’d be ultra-protective of a sister who’d been hurt by some jerkwad of an athlete.
“If you want me to meet them, then I will.”
Her blue eyes widened. “But we haven’t gone out on three dates.”
Smiling, he glanced at the table and then at her. “Pretty sure this is date number three, but honestly, we’ve been dating for months now.”
“Months?” she asked, clearly bewildered.
“Yeah, if you count those two weeks of puppy-parenting classes, plus the three weeks I spent thinking about dating you, along with our most recent dates, then the scoreboard would have to add that I scored a two-point conversion.”
“I know you did not compare us to a football play,” she said with a scowl, but her eyes twinkled.
“Baby, you’re the best play I’ve ever made. The ultimate Hail Mary.” Grinning at the look of pleased astonishment on her face, he ducked his head and resumed eating supper.
Chapter Eleven
With Ryan’s help, Ashley cleaned up the kitchen and dining room in record time.
He stuck a detergent tablet into the slot and closed the dishwasher, as she finished wiping off the island in the middle of her kitchen.
“What’s left?”
“Nothing with the way you ate,” she teased.
He smirked at her. “I saved room for you.”
Her cheeks heated. “About that. You don’t have to… spend the night if you don’t want to.”
He came to her, his muscular arms wrapping around her and molding her body to his. “I came prepared.”
She took a sustaining breath. “How prepared?”
“Brought my toothbrush and deodorant.”
A giggle escaped her mouth. “No pajamas?”
“I thought I’d wear you to bed instead.” He winked, and her heart fluttered in her chest.
“Oh.” Heat pooled between her legs. “Well, I thought I’d wear you out, and then go to bed.”
“Are you issuing a challenge, firecracker?”
“Afraid you can’t keep up?” she asked, lightly trailing her fingers along the collar of his shirt. His skin was hot, and he smelled so good.
“No, ma’am. I’m a professional athlete. We train for nights like this.”
She broke away from his embrace, casting a sultry look over her shoulder at him, hoping she didn’t do something dumb like trip over Bluebelle. “Why don’t you show me?”
A second later, Ryan scooped her up in his arms, and she smiled. “How’s this for a first play?” he asked.
“It’s a good start.”
He laid her down on the bed and crouched over her, his gaze roaming over her body. She touched his face, rubbing her hand over his five o’clock shadow.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
She glanced away. “I’m not.”
He captured her chin in his hand. “Never argue with someone who’s twice your size.” Straddling her legs, he began to work at the buttons of her blouse. “Repeat after me, ‘I’m beautiful.’”
“I’m beautiful,” she whispered, feeling foolish. The material parted, baring her demi-cup bra to him.
“And I’ve the greatest pair of tits the world has ever known.”
“And I’ve got the greatest pair of—Ryan!” She punched him in the shoulder. “I am not saying that.”
He leaned down, blowing lightly on her tight, lace-covered nipple. “I will. I’ll shout it from the rooftops.”
“Don’t you dare!”
Peering at her through his ridiculously long lashes, he said, “How about if I whisper it?”
“No.”
“Sing?”
“Oh my Lord.”
“You want me to pray about them?”
She broke out in helpless giggles. “No, you idiot. I don’t want you to do anything but worship me.”
“Normally, I’d be pretty damn upset if the woman I’m in bed with is laughing and calling me an idiot, but I really like how the movement makes your breasts jiggle.”
Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. “Where have you been all my life, Ryan Shea Turner?”
His gaze was tender. “Waiting on you.”
Once again, his head dipped to hers. His lips brushed over her mouth in a tender kiss. She kissed him back eagerly. Greedily. She had to have him. With a fierceness she didn’t know she was capable of, she grabbed his button-down shirt and yanked at the center.
Buttons popped and went flying. Ryan pulled back a little, a wicked grin appearing on his mouth. “Is that how you want it tonight?”
Rather than answering him with words, she unfastened the front of her bra. “Take off the rest,” she ordered.
Determination and lust glinted in his dark eyes. He almost ripped her dress off her while she tugged, unfastened, and pulled at his jeans. Before she knew it, they were pressed skin to skin, his tongue in her mouth and her legs wrapped around his waist.
His thick cock brushed at her core, teasing and making her wish that he could slide right in. That they didn’t need anything between them.
His hips surged against her, and she moaned. One of his big hands wrapped around her thigh and pulled it up and over his arm.
“Much better,” he murmured, looking down. He slid his cock between her curls, where she was wet and slick and hot for him, over and over again, until her entire body felt as though it was about to go up in flames. “Feel good?”
“Yes,” she all but shouted.
He laughed, low in his t
hroat, and ran a hand over her breast, before pinching and rolling her nipple between his fingers. Bending down, he took it in his mouth, sucking and nibbling, until she begged him to end the torment.
“I’m just getting started, sweetness,” he said, pushing her thighs wide. Leaning up, he kissed the side of her neck, nibbled on her ear, and licked his way down her throat.
Her body shook, as he rubbed his jaw along her collarbone and cupped her breasts in his big hands. He kissed the skin under them, and then licked a pattern across her stomach.
“Seven,” he said. “That’s how many times I plan on making you come tonight.” He canted his head to one side. “For starters.”
“I can’t come seven times in one night,” she protested.
But he paid her no mind, just kept kissing, tonguing, and nibbling at her body. He licked her clit once… twice, and she cried out his name as she went over the edge.
“How many are we up to now?” he asked from between her thighs, after she shattered for the second time—or was it the fourth?
“I don’t know,” she said, even as her body yearned for more.
“If you’re still talking, then I’m not doing my job.” He lowered his mouth and spread her. “Prettiest, wettest—” Then he licked her, and she moaned.
He touched and stroked her everywhere, even at one point turning her over on her stomach to kiss the globes of her butt.
“Every inch of you is perfection,” he said, dragging his cock along the inseam of her bottom. She tensed up slightly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll save that for another time.”
“Will I like it?” she asked.
“You’ll love it.”
“But what if I don’t?”
“Then we won’t.”
Ashley exhaled. That would not have been Dean’s answer. Ever. His motto was to keep trying until she caved in and resented him later, until she felt guilty for it.
“Don’t think about him,” Ryan said, flipping her over. His face was serious and slightly jealous looking. “We’re the only two people in the room, and you’re the only woman in my brain. Let me be the only man in yours.”
“Sorry,” she whispered.
He cupped the side of her face and pressed a heated kiss to her lips. “Who’s in you now?”
“You.” She let out a gasp, as he slid inside of her, “Oh, God. You are…” Her body bowed off the bed at his erotic invasion.
Withdrawing slightly, he thrust forward again. “That’s right.” He withdrew from her again and slid forward, over and over, until he was fully inside of her.
“So deep,” she moaned.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “So tight.” He palmed her butt and lifted her hips slightly, then thrust home. “How’s that?”
“Do it again.”
Her breast bounced with each of his measured thrusts. She writhed under him, wrapped her legs around his waist, and begged him to go faster. To thrust harder.
Letting go of her butt, he grabbed the headboard and pinned her to the bed with his lower body. Then he began to drive into her so hard that all she could do was take it and take him. With every thrust, his skin rubbed her swollen clit.
“Touch yourself,” he growled. “I want to watch you come. Want to feel you milk me.”
She didn’t know what to do at first, so unused to someone talking during sex.
“C’mon, sweetness. Show me how you liked to be touched.”
His gravelly words did for her what nothing else could. They gave her the confidence to try. Their skin was slick, as she reached between her thighs. She found her clit and began to rub, firmly. In no time at all, she was spasming helplessly around him.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “You are not helping my self-control.”
She trailed her hand slowly up her body, circling her nipple.
He let out a curse and pumped furiously inside of her until he came. His head dropped into the pillow and his arms fell from the headboard to pull her to him, as he rolled to one side.
“I put on a condom,” he mumbled. “Right before…”
She smiled sleepily against his chest. “I trust you.”
His hands coasted down her back. “I’ll go clean up in a minute.”
“Take your time,” she said as he slid out of her. She winced a little. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” he said. “Cause neither am I.”
Chapter Twelve
The following weeks were like one big dream to Ashley. She had never felt so loved before, not even with Dean before he abandoned her.
Then again, if he had loved her like he’d claimed, he wouldn’t have moved on without her.
Ryan cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. As soon as they broke apart, Gunner and Bluebelle jumped onto the couch with them.
“My place isn’t as homey as yours,” he said apologetically.
She nodded at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse. “But the view is way more amazing.”
He touched her face. “I don’t know about that.”
Sighing, she laid her head on his shoulder, and he clicked on the afternoon sports news recap.
“Rumor has it that Ryan Turner, tight end for Atlanta’s very own Avengers, is being courted by Dallas,” the woman said.
Ryan tensed up slightly, but Ashley rubbed his leg. “We can talk later.” She wasn’t worried. If he wanted to go to Dallas, then he would have told her by now. They’d talked about the future often enough. He was always asking her if she’d come up with her next great design. Always asking if she wanted to start up another company.
She frowned.
Ryan was always asking about her future plans. Whenever she tried to broach the subject of his plans, he’d always deflected and brought it back to her.
Not that any of it mattered. Hadn’t she told herself that she was here to enjoy Ryan’s company? Hadn’t she convinced herself that this was nothing more than a fling, a way to get back into the dating game?
Her heart turned over in her chest.
Yes, she had told herself that, but it was before they’d slept together. Before they’d spent more and more time together. Before he’d met her brothers and parents, and she’d met his sisters and mother. Before they spent every available minute together.
Oh God. They were a couple, an honest-to-goodness couple, and the thought of him leaving made her want to break down.
She was in love with him.
Inwardly shaking her head, she refused to believe that. There was no way she’d fallen so hard, so quickly. That wasn’t her. It had taken two years for her to tell Dean she loved him.
But Ryan wasn’t Dean.
She took a deep breath, and Ryan relaxed against her.
Ryan wasn’t Dean, she repeated to herself. No matter how she felt about him, he wouldn’t keep something like that from her.
“Do you want to spend the night?” he asked on a yawn.
“Does Bluebelle love to lick Gunner’s eyeball?”
Ryan grimaced. “You have a way with words, Ashley.”
“Thank you.”
“A really awful way with words. I hope that’s not one of your dreams.”
“Ha, ha, Mr. Funnyman. Why don’t you tell me your dreams?”
He pulled her into his lap. “I’d tell you about this fantasy I’ve wanted to come true.” Even as her heart dropped to her toes, her body heated up, responding to his wickedly talented hands as he told her about some very creative uses for pearls and blindfolds.
“Sound like something you’d be willing to try?” he asked.
She wriggled her bottom against his erection. “Do I get to use the pearls and blindfold on you?”
“The pearls are for you, but I’m okay with the blindfold.”
“Deal.” He cut off the television, pulling her to her feet before leading her into his bedroom.
Then, he made his fantasy a reality.
***
Ryan couldn’t sleep.
The rumors about him going to Dallas were on this side of true. As in, it was true he was seriously considering it, but J.R. was forcing his hand. The man had signed Dean Clark.
Even if Ryan weren’t dating Ashley, he would view that move as a deal breaker.
He ran a hand over her back, marveling at the soft, pale skin that glowed in the moonlight. Unlike most redheads, she didn’t have a single freckle on her.
Something he was kind of disappointed about because he would have taken the time to connect the dots with his tongue. She sighed in her sleep and scooted closer to him.
He sat up and then left the bed, careful not to disturb her, and made his way to his home office. Booting up his laptop, he switched on a light and sat down.
The email from Dallas practically glowed neon yellow and then green. He wanted to go. He wanted to say yes. Not only that, he wanted to be honest with Ashley and share what he wanted with her.
But, according to Dean, one of the reasons why he’d broken up with her was because she had refused to move. She had refused to accept his lifestyle and wanted him to give it all up.
And, although he didn’t trust Dean as far as he could punt him, he knew Ashley loved living here. She loved being near her family and having Sunday dinners with them. She loved being able to pop over to her brother’s house for supper and host book club meetings for snotty women who finally came around to her way of thinking about romance novels.
He scrubbed his hand across his face.
There had to be truth in there somewhere. Ashley had never given the specifics about her relationship with Dean, but he knew she’d been hurt. He knew she’d loved Dean.
But did she love him? Was he in love with her?
Ryan exhaled.
Those were the million-dollar questions keeping him up at night, when he should be in bed with Ashley.
Gunner padded to him, laying his big head on Ryan’s knee.
“Hey, boy. What’s the matter?” When Ryan first adopted the pit bull from Second Chances Rescue, Gunner was shy and a bit growly. Not that Ryan could blame the pup. He’d been abused by his former owners. Now, after patience and time—and puppy-parenting classes with Ashley—Gunner had come a long way. He loved to meet people and growled less and less every day.
Game For Love: All The Right Moves (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 6
