The Perfect Game: A Complete Sports Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by Samantha Christy

  Just as intended, my words do nothing to tamp down his anger. But then his anger turns into something else as he looks into my eyes. It turns into passion. Pure unbridled, no-holds-barred passion.

  He cages me to the wall, leaning down so his lips are almost touching mine. “I’m not paying you, Aspen. Not tonight anyway. You’re fucking fired.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sawyer

  The Uber ride back to the hotel is torture. We have to drop Denver off at his apartment and Aspen runs up to get her things. And when I say runs, I mean runs. She takes two stairs at a time as I watch from the car.

  She tries to pretend she’s not into me. And she can deny it all she wants, but I see the way she looks at me. The way her eyes burn into mine. The way her breathing accelerates and her nipples pebble when I touch her. She wants me as much as I want her.

  When she comes back down the stairs with her small suitcase, I take it from her and put it in the trunk. I notice she changed her shirt. This one is not damp with sweat. It’s tiny and sleeveless and has me thinking about how quickly I’ll be able to strip her out of it.

  I scoot in next to her and kiss her neck, smelling the spritz of perfume she must have put on when she was changing.

  “Nobody’s watching,” she jokes. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  I laugh. “Nobody better be watching when I do to you what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

  She bites her lip. It’s an innocent move, but she looks so hot when she does it. She has no idea what she does to me. I look down at the rising problem in my lap.

  I rest my hand on her thigh, running my thumb in tiny circles. I feel her tremble and it makes me smile.

  She doesn’t fail to notice. “Don’t get cocky, Tom Sawyer,” she says, nodding to my lap. “You have no right to talk.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “But you were thinking it,” she says.

  “I’m thinking a lot of things right now,” I say, moving my hand up closer to the apex of her thighs.

  She looks at the driver to make sure he’s watching the road, and then she puts her hand on my lap and moves her fingers around against the fabric of my jeans. Shit. I’m not going to be able to get out of the car if she keeps this up.

  “What are you doing to me?” I ask.

  She giggles. “I figured with your sordid past, you’d know what, Mr. Mills.”

  I shake my head and laugh. That’s not what I meant, but I’m not about to tell her that. This woman – I can’t get her out of my head. Maybe a good fuck will do the trick. I ignore the voice in my head that reminds me I already had one of those and it did nothing to squelch my want of her. If anything, it did the opposite.

  And I realize I’m in a position I’ve never been in. I’m about to sleep with a woman for the second time. Sawyer Mills doesn’t sleep with anyone twice. One and done. I’m breaking my rules with her.

  This is different, I tell myself. We’re living together like boyfriend and girlfriend. That makes this okay. It’s expected of us. It’s no big deal. This doesn’t affect the contract. It doesn’t affect the outcome. Because there can only be one outcome. And I’ve known that since I was ten years old.

  “We’re here,” the driver says.

  We both look out the car window. We were oblivious to the fact that the car had come to a stop. We look at each other and laugh. Then we get out and retrieve her bag.

  We run into a few of my teammates going into the lobby bar at the hotel.

  “Want to join us for a nightcap?” Caden asks as we walk past.

  “Nope,” I say, my steps quickening as I pull Aspen towards the elevator.

  I hear laughter behind us and glance back to see the guys staring at us. Brady has an amused look on his face.

  “Mind your own business!” I yell at him just before pushing Aspen into the elevator.

  The doors close. We’re the only ones inside. She looks at me. I look at her. She drops her purse on the floor and jumps into my arms. I catch her as I back up into the corner just as our lips crash together.

  As the floors go by, our kisses become deeper. Our tongues mingle together as we taste each other. When I’m out of breath, I break our seal and move my lips to her neck. She tastes salty sweet. A mixture of sweat and perfume. A moan escapes her when I suck on a place by her collarbone. I chronicle the exact location in my memory.

  The elevator dings and the doors open. I don’t want to put her down. I want to carry her like this until I can throw her on my bed. But we have her suitcase in here and her purse is on the floor. I reluctantly let her go and we gather up her things and make our way to my suite.

  I unlock the door and deposit her suitcase inside. Aspen immediately jumps back into my arms. It’s almost like she read my mind. She doesn’t even bother looking around the room. She doesn’t notice that I’ve booked us the Presidential Suite. She doesn’t notice the view overlooking the river. Or the ornate flowers on the table. She doesn’t notice the stocked bar and the array of food I had pre-ordered for the evening. She doesn’t notice because her eyes never stray from mine.

  Nobody has ever not noticed. Nobody until her.

  I carry her into the bedroom and put her down on the bed, immediately crawling on top of her. Having her under me is like something out of a dream. It is out of a dream. My dreams. Since the first day I met her, she’s plagued me as I sleep.

  I pull up the hem of her shirt, removing it when she arches her back and lifts her head. Her white satin bra has a hook in the front and I waste no time unfastening it. The two cups fall to the side, revealing her gorgeous creamy breasts.

  I palm them. Then I run my fingers around the edges, teasing her before I pinch her nipples. “If I didn’t tell you before, these are incredible.”

  She laughs. “Of course you haven’t told me before. Did all the alcohol fry your brain?”

  Oh, shit. That’s right. This is supposed to be the first time I’ve seen her. “I don’t know,” I say. “That skimpy shirt you had on at the club gave me a pretty good idea.”

  Thinking about her alcohol comment has me removing my hands from her momentarily.

  “How much have you had to drink?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I had a beer at the game and a few shots at the club. Why?”

  “You didn’t take one of those pills, did you?”

  “My muscle relaxants? No. Of course not.”

  “Good.”

  She smiles up at me. “Is this you taking care of me again? You’d better watch out, Sawyer, or you’ll turn into a nice guy.”

  I shut her up when I lean down and kiss her again. She arches her back and reaches around to pull me tightly against her.

  With my hand between us, stroking her breasts, we kiss until I can’t stand it any longer. The pressure in my pants is driving me insane. I sit up and straddle her, reaching behind me to pull my shirt over my head. Then I undo the button on her pants. Her eyes study my chest. My tattoo. She traces the outline of it with her finger.

  Her finger stops its path and she looks up at me, cocking her head to the side.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, looking at my tattoo. “Nothing. Just a strange feeling of déjà vu.”

  I move to the side and peel her pants off. “I promise you won’t be thinking of anything in about twenty seconds.”

  The sides of her mouth curve into a smile. “Is that so?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, my lips coming down to meet her right breast.

  While my tongue is busy playing with her nipple, my hand works its way under her panties. Her very small, very wet panties. My cock strains even harder against the seam of my jeans. I slip a finger through her wetness and coat her tiny nub with it. Then I rub my thumb in circles, extracting a moan from deep inside her throat. When I slip a finger inside her, she pleads with me. “Yes!” she yells.

  Her excitement fuels me further and I slide her panties down her legs, re
moving my mouth from her chest so I can follow every curve with my tongue until I hit her ankle. Her hips buck under me as I slowly work my way back up her legs, tasting every bit of flesh up to the apex of her thighs. When I put my tongue there, she calls out my name three times and I feel like Tarzan. King Kong. Fucking Superman.

  The way my name comes off her lips when I’m feasting on her is the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. With my tongue on her clit, I use my fingers to stroke inside her, searching for the spot I know will drive her crazy. I know it’s there. I’ve found it once before.

  I crook my fingers and she shouts again. Her thighs tighten around my head. Her fingers weave into my hair, tugging, pulling, clawing. When her back arches and her insides clench my fingers, I have to grit my teeth to keep myself from coming with her, because watching her come is fucking hot. And more satisfying than any of my fantasies.

  “Holy shit,” I say, hopping up to quickly remove my jeans. “I have to see that again.”

  She throws an arm over her face in embarrassment as she recovers from her orgasm. “It won’t happen,” she says. “It never happens twice.”

  “That’s not true,” I say. “You—”

  Damn it.

  “I what?” she asks, turning on her side while reaching out to grab my cock.

  Jesus, her hands feel good on me. My cock is hard as steel as she runs her hands up and down my shaft.

  “Nothing,” I say. “I don’t even know my own fucking name right now with you doing that to me.”

  She laughs and then she leans down. “Well, what if I do this?” she says, right before taking me into her mouth.

  “Aspen!” I shout as her wet warmth encapsulates me.

  The seal she has on my cock breaks when she smiles around me. She looks up at me while she takes me in from tip to root and back. Her fingers work fervently around my balls and over my perineum.

  I pull away. “I want inside you. Now.”

  “Condom?” she asks.

  “Got it.” I reach over the side of the bed and open my wallet. There are two condoms inside. Because I always double-wrap. I look from my wallet back to Aspen. Then I pull out one.

  I roll it on and climb on top of her. “You sure?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not sure about anything anymore. But I want this.”

  Truer words have never been spoken. I wonder if she has any idea that I feel exactly the same way. I’ve never wanted anything so badly knowing I could never have it. And as I sink myself deep inside her, I know I’ll never want anything as much again.

  I’m slow and deliberate, allowing her time to get used to me. I watch her as I pull out. I moan with her as I push back in. I reach between us and stroke her, determined to show her she can have a second orgasm. I have to bite the inside of my cheek and hold back, wanting her to come along with me.

  I stroke her clit with my thumb, running it in circles before I give it a little pinch. Then I do it again. I do it as I watch her build back up. “Oh, God,” she moans, her face looking surprised at the impending encore.

  “That’s it,” I say. “You feel so good.”

  My words push her over the edge. Her screams push me over. We pulsate in and around each other, our gazes never breaking contact. It’s as close to another person as I’ve ever felt. And it fucking scares me. It scares me because I know what happens after. I know I’ll hurt her. But little does she know, she’ll hurt me, too.

  I collapse on top of her as we chase our recovery. Then I roll to the side. She snuggles into the crook of my neck and places her hand on my chest. We lie in silence as she traces the outline of my tattoo once again. I’m beginning to think it’s becoming a habit.

  I smile down at her as she does it, but she can’t see me. She can’t see how much I want this. I can never show her.

  Suddenly, she stops what she’s doing and bolts up in bed. She studies me. She studies my tattoo. Then she stands and picks my shirt up off the floor to cover herself.

  “Oh, my God,” she says, looking disgusted. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this, is it?”

  “No,” I say, guiltily.

  She shakes her head in a huff and pulls on her pants. “What the fuck, Sawyer. When?”

  “The first night we met.”

  Her jaw opens. Then closes. Then opens again. “Of course. The alcohol. The muscle relaxants. I should have known. Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

  I shrug. “I didn’t even realize you didn’t know until I came back to your apartment later that morning.”

  She sits down on the chair next to the bed. “I knew it,” she says. “I mean, I didn’t know it, but I kept having vivid dreams.” She throws my shirt at me before putting on her own. “Why didn’t you tell me back then, when I recognized your tattoo in the car? And for that matter, why didn’t you tell me when we signed the contract? I’ll bet you thought it was pretty funny that I added the no sex clause to it, didn’t you? Did you and your friends make fun of me for that? God, Sawyer, you really are an asshole, aren’t you?”

  She gets up and storms across the room. I dress quickly and follow her. “Aspen, wait.” I catch her before she gets to the front door. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

  She spins around. “So you up and left in the middle of the night, just like all your other conquests. You used me and walked out.”

  I shake my head. “It was different with you,” I tell her. “That’s why I came back later that morning.”

  “No. You came back to see if you could use me some more.”

  “I came back because I liked you. You’re different. And because I had read the letter from Juilliard and knew we could help each other out.”

  “You lied to me,” she says.

  “Hold on there, I didn’t lie. I’ve never lied to you, Aspen. It’s not my fault that you didn’t remember. How do you think I felt knowing someone I had sex with didn’t remember doing it?”

  Her accusing eyes scold me. “Wow – now that’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? How do you think every woman you’ve ever slept with feels? I’ve probably met a dozen women in the past few months who had sex with you, yet you didn’t remember them. It happened earlier tonight, just a couple of hours ago. How can you be so blasé about it?”

  I run my hands through my hair and walk over to pour myself a drink. “I never claimed I wasn’t an asshole, you know.” I hold up the decanter. “You want one?”

  “You’re kidding, right? After what I just found out?” She nods to her suitcase. “I’m leaving, Sawyer. I’m going back to Denver’s place.”

  “You can’t leave. It’s in the contract that you go to some away games with me.”

  “You really think I care about the contract now? Plus, if I recall, you fired me an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re re-hired as of right now.”

  Her eyes close and she blows out a long breath. “It doesn’t really matter, because any way you look at it, you’re still paying me to be with you. And that makes me a whore.”

  I slam down the drink I just poured, sloshing liquid onto the table. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  She points to the bedroom. “What would you call me then. After what we just did? I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your friend. I’m not even your fuck buddy.”

  “That’s not true. We’re friends. Friends who had sex. It’s not all that unusual, you know.”

  “It’s unusual for me. I’ve only slept with three men. Don’t you get that? You’re only the third guy I’ve slept with. Ever. I realize that’s a novel idea for you.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Three? Really?” Then molten lava creeps up my spine. “And that guy tonight, he was one of the three?”

  “Trent. Yes. I told you he was.”

  I realize she’s still standing by the front door. “Aspen, I know you’re pissed at me. But that doesn’t change anything. Please put your bag down and come have a drink.”

 
“So you can take advantage of me again? I don’t think so.”

  “I didn’t take advantage of you that night. You only had a few drinks. I didn’t know you were on drugs.”

  “Muscle relaxants,” she says.

  “Whatever. You seemed fine. And I sure as shit didn’t take advantage of you tonight. You were more than a willing participant. Come on. You have to admit, we’re pretty damn compatible, sexually and otherwise.”

  She points her finger between us. “This is not happening again. Not while you are paying me. If you want to, you know, after—”

  I shake my head. “There can’t be an after. I’ve told you that.”

  “How can you unequivocally say that? You said yourself we’re compatible. What are you so scared of, Sawyer?”

  I silently finish my drink and pour another.

  “You got hurt, didn’t you? By a woman. Someone you loved?”

  “I’ve never loved anyone.”

  “I feel sorry for you then,” she says. “Because you’re missing out.”

  “You’ve loved someone?” I ask. “Trent?”

  “I was seventeen. Who can really say they are in love at that age?”

  “But you thought you were.”

  She shrugs.

  “Who was the third?” I ask. “There’s me and Trent, that leaves one more. Was it Bass? It was Bass, wasn’t it?”

  “No, it wasn’t Bass.”

  “I’ll bet he wishes it was.”

  Her eyes close briefly and I wonder if she wishes it too. “It was just some guy a few years ago. We dated on and off for about a year.”

  “So, fuck buddies. See – case in point.”

  “We weren’t fuck buddies,” she says with an eyeroll. “We just wanted different things out of life.”

  “You’re telling me you went years without sex before you met me?”

  She nods.

  “Years? And here I am giving you free rein.” I sweep my hand from my head to my waist, showcasing my body. “Yet you don’t want it.”

  She furrows her brow. “I’ve had it. Twice, apparently.”