Play With Me (With Me In Seattle)

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Play With Me (With Me In Seattle) Page 2

by Proby, Kristen


  Holy shit, he’s good at this kissing stuff. His lips are soft, yet firm, and that somehow makes perfect sense to me. They move with precision and purpose, across my lips and back again. I moan and wrap my arms around his waist, lean into him, and Will groans against me and suddenly this kiss has turned into not just want, but need. His tongue invades my mouth, twirling and dancing with my own. I reach up, wrap my arms around his neck and twist my fingers into his gloriously soft hair and practically climb up him, trying to get closer.

  Finally, he cups my ass in his large hands and lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist and before I know it, my back is braced against the door, Will is leaning on me, keeping me firmly in place, and is still kissing the shit out of me.

  Holy fuck this man can kiss.

  “God, you’re sweet,” he murmurs and nibbles and kisses his way across my jawline to my ear and down my neck. “We could have a lot of fun together, baby.”

  Baby? And just as if I’ve been doused with a bucket of cold water, I come to my senses. I’m about to get it on in a public restroom – ew! – with Will Montgomery.

  No!

  “Stop,” I demand, my voice firm.

  Chapter Two

  “You don’t want me to stop.”

  He pushes his pelvis against my center and I bite my lip to stop the moan that wants to come from my throat.

  “I said stop, Will.”

  He pulls back and looks me in the eye, panting, his eyes narrowed. He shakes his head as if he’s clearing it and gently lowers me to the floor. My knees almost buckle beneath me, and he steadies me, his hands on my shoulders.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “I’m not doing this with you. Ever.”

  He steps back, runs those fantastic hands through his hair, takes a deep breath and clenches his eyes shut. “Okay.” He swallows hard. “I’m sorry. I thought you were interested.”

  “Let’s get something straight right now. I’m not some stupid sports groupie who’s dying to get into your pants and I’m not your baby.” God, I hate being called that.

  “I apologize again, for the misunderstanding regarding my PR people, and for this.” His voice is steady now, his breathing under control and he shoves his hands into his pockets. Wow, he’s handsome.

  I lick my lips, still tasting him on me.

  “If you’ll step aside, I’ll leave you alone.” I suddenly hate this polite coldness I’m getting from him. I wish he’d take me in his arms again and kiss me, and I hate myself just a little for it.

  Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought, but he’s not for me.

  I quickly move out of his way, and he unlocks the restroom door. Before he opens it, he looks back at me and offers me a half grin, winks, and leaves me alone.

  My eyes find my own in the mirror. They’re a bit glassy from too much wine and lust. My hair is just a bit messy, but I styled it that way to begin with, so no biggie. Aside from my lip gloss having been kissed off, I look the same as I did when I walked in here.

  So why does it feel like everything is about to change?

  * * *

  “Okay, what are we drinking to this time?” I ask and look around the table at my friends and their men. All of the parents left the party a few hours ago, and all that’s left are Jules and Nate, Natalie and Luke, Stacy and Isaac, Brynna, Matt, Caleb and Will. All of the other guests have gone home, leaving the eleven of us to drink shots and laugh and catch up.

  I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

  If I drink this next shot, I just might forget the escapade in the bathroom with Will.

  Maybe.

  Probably not.

  Speaking of Will, he keeps watching me, sipping a beer, quiet. But I ignore him and lift another shot of tequila in the air. So far, we’ve toasted babies, rock and roll, tattoos, shopping, and shopping again.

  “Here’s to orgasms, and the three I’m going to have tonight!” Natalie exclaims, earning fits of giggles from the rest of us girls while the boys – all except for Luke – grumble about TMI.

  “To orgasms!” we all concur and slam the shot.

  I stopped using the training wheels of lime and salt three shots ago.

  I glance back over at Will, who’s now in a deep conversation with his brother Caleb, and despite my clearly drunk state, my thighs clench just at the sight of him. Geez. He’s all broad shoulders and muscles and blue eyes and his shaggy dark blonde hair is all messy from his fingers, and mine, and I want to give it a good tug.

  I should have done him in the bathroom.

  Stop it! That’s just drunk and horny Meg talking.

  “So, Meg,” Jules slurs as she leans over toward me and plops her arm around my shoulders. “Why are you still single, my beautiful friend?”

  “Because my job is my relationship, my equally as beautiful friend.”

  “That sucks.”

  “It’s fine.” I wave her off and take a sip of my fifth margarita. Damn, I really should have eaten more at dinner.

  “Does your job give you orgasms?” Natalie asks as she crawls into Luke’s lap.

  “No,” I giggle.

  “Then it’s not fine,” she responds smugly.

  No, it’s not fine, but it is what it is. I need to change this subject.

  “You should sing something,” Jules claps her hands and bounces in her seat.

  “You are all starting to kill this really great buzz I’ve got going on.”

  “Sing!” Jules demands.

  “I can barely talk. No singing. I haven’t sung in a long time anyway.”

  “Okay, then let’s dance.” Jules stands, and then wobbles. Nate pulls her in his lap, laughing down at her.

  “I think it’s time I take you up to the room, baby.” She cups his face in her hand and smiles up at him.

  “Okay. Can I have some orgasms?”

  “I think I can make that happen,” he replies with a smirk.

  “No fair!” Natalie exclaims. “I want orgasms!”

  Dear God, did we always talk about orgasms when we were drunk in college?

  “Then let’s go up to our room too, I’ll give you those orgasms.” Luke kisses Nat’s cheek and stands with her cradled in his arms.

  Jesus, Luke Williams is in the same room with me, talking about orgasms.

  This is crazy.

  “I’m out too.” I slam one last shot, grab for my purse and stand. The room spins a bit, but I brace myself on the back of a chair and take a deep breath.

  “You’re not driving are you?” Nate asks.

  “I’ll call a cab.”

  “I’ll take you home.” Will stands and is suddenly at my side, gripping my elbow.

  “You drank too,” I remind him.

  “I had one beer. I’m fine.”

  Oh.

  “Really?”

  “I’m in the middle of a season, Meg, I can’t drink much.”

  “What kind of season?” I ask as the room spins slowly around me. I’m vaguely aware of snickering happening around me but I’m too drunk to kick anyone’s ass.

  “Football,” he says gently and brushes my hair behind my ear.

  “You want to play football?” I’m so confused. “I’m too drunk to play football.”

  Will laughs and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart, I will play football on Sunday. With my team. Remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. You’re a football star.” I wave him off and turn toward my friends. “He’s a big time football player. Did you know?”

  Natalie giggles at me. “Meg, you’re funny. I’m glad you’re hanging out with us again.”

  “Dude, you got her?” Caleb asks.

  “Yeah, I got her,” Will confirms.

  “Who you got?” I ask.

  “You, drunk girl. Come on.” He turns to lead me toward the exit, and I start to follow him, but for some reason my feet don’t work very well.

  “Um, Will?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I lost my feet.”


  “What?” he laughs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

  “I can’t find my feet.”

  Why is everyone laughing at me? This is serious!

  “Okay, I’ve got you.” He lifts me effortlessly into his arms and cradles me against his chest.

  “You don’t have to carry me.”

  “If I want to get you in the car and take you home, I think I do.”

  “I thought you wanted to play football.” I yawn and lean my head against his shoulder. Hmm… he still smells good.

  “Not tonight.”

  “I think I’m drunk.”

  “What was your first clue?” he chuckles.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Mungumry.”

  “Yeah, you scare me.”

  * * *

  “What kind of car is this?” I ask.

  “It’s a Shelby.”

  “Is Shelby your girlfriend?” I ask, mortified. Holy shit! I made out with a guy who has a girlfriend!

  “No, this car is a Shelby Mustang, Megan.”

  “Oh. Then who is your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Why not?”

  “No time.” He shrugs. “No one has interested me, until very recently.” He mutters that last part, and before I can ask him what he means by that, he pulls up to my townhouse.

  “Thanks for the ride.”

  “You’re welcome. Stay there.”

  I don’t think I could get out of this car if I wanted to. It sits really low to the ground, but it’s nice. The seat is comfortable.

  Suddenly the passenger door is open and Will is leaning inside, pulling me out of the car. He gets me to stand, and then lifts me again.

  “I could probably walk now.”

  “I doubt it. Just don’t throw up on me, please.”

  Well, I didn’t feel like throwing up until he said something. Now my stomach is rolling and I have that icky feeling in the back of my throat.

  Fuck!

  “Where are your keys?” he asks.

  “Handbag.”

  “Do you want me to get them?”

  “Yes.” Just breathe. Just breathe and you won’t throw up.

  “Okay, I’m going to stand you by the door. Just lean on the wall for a second.”

  Is he speaking English? I don’t understand him, all I can concentrate on is not throwing up. He shuffles through my bag and produces my keys.

  “This one.” I point to the house key and he unlocks the door and scoops me up again, carrying me inside.

  “You don’t have an alarm system?” he asks with a frown.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he demands.

  “Too expensive. Fuck, put me down.”

  He lowers me to the floor and as soon as my feet hit the ground I sprint to the bathroom, and hurl about two bottles of tequila into the toilet.

  It never tastes as good coming up as it did going down.

  Oh, sweet Jesus, make it stop. My stomach convulses and shudders, and I feel a sweat break out on my skin.

  Suddenly my hair is scooped back off my face and a cold cloth is pressed to the back of my neck.

  Fuck, I forgot he was here. How mortifying.

  “You can go,” I mumble and rest my forehead on my arm, still cradling the toilet.

  “I’ll stay.” His voice is firm and maybe a little grim.

  “I’m okay, Will.”

  “I’m not leaving you like this, so shut it.” He gently lifts my head and presses another cold cloth to my forehead, making me moan in delight.

  “That feels good.”

  “I know. Are you done throwing up?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, let’s get you in bed.”

  “Hey!” My head jerks up and I pin him with a glare. “You’re not getting me into bed.”

  “Yeah, I am. Don’t worry, sweetheart, no hanky panky.” He grins and I groan as another wave of nausea hits. I’m suddenly bone-tired.

  “Okay.” I stand and he wraps an arm awkwardly around my waist. He’s just too tall for his own good. “I’m fine, Will. The worst is over. You can go.”

  He glares down at me and wipes my face with the cool cloth. “I’ll make sure you’re asleep before I leave.”

  “Why? I haven’t exactly been nice to you.”

  “Because I’m not an asshole, and the sooner you realize that, the better.”

  I frown at him, not understanding him at all. He opens the drawers in my dresser, shuffling through clothes and socks, then turns to me with a scowl.

  “Where are your pajamas?”

  “I don’t wear pajamas.”

  “So what do you wear to bed?” he asks and plants his hands on his hips.

  “Nothing.”

  He closes his eyes and exhales deeply, then searches through my drawers again until he finds an old t-shirt and throws it at me. “Here, put this on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m climbing in that bed with you, and you can’t be naked or I will be an asshole.” He looks almost angry.

  “Turn around,” I murmur. When he’s facing the other direction, I quickly unzip and step out of my dress and pull the t-shirt over my head. I’m not wearing panties, but the t-shirt is long enough that you can’t see so I don’t care. “I don’t think I can take my sandals off without falling over.”

  Will turns to me and his eyes soften. “You look so young right now.”

  “I’m sure I look like shit, but okay. Sandals?”

  “Sit.” He kneels before me and takes my shoes off, and then tucks me into the bed. He unbuttons his shirt, lets it fall off his shoulders and drapes it on my desk chair. Holy muscled body, Batman.

  “Your place is nice,” he mutters.

  “Hmm.” I close my eyes to block out the delicious image of a mostly-naked Will. I hear the zipper of his pants and the rustling of him stepping out of them, and then the bed dips as he crawls in beside me. He turns me away from him, and pulls my back against his front.

  “Sleep.”

  “Why are you still here?” I ask sleepily. I should demand that he go, but damn if this doesn’t feel good.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers.

  * * *

  ~Will~

  She instantly falls asleep, tucked against me, her breath slow and even. Why am I still here? Good question. I got her home and in bed safely, she’ll just sleep it off and be fine in the morning, albeit a bit hung over. But lying here with her feels right, and for the first time in a long, long time I feel protective over a woman that I’m not related to.

  She’s different. She doesn’t care about my job or my family connections.

  And she told me no. That was new.

  I smile and kiss the top of her head, enjoying the smell of peppermint in her hair and the way her soft hair feels against my nose. She sighs deeply and wiggles against me, pushing that tight, round ass against my groin. Her t-shirt rides up and I can feel her ass.

  Her warm, naked ass.

  Fuck me.

  This little hazel-eyed woman has a body made for sex, a sharp wit and a killer smile. The dimple in her right cheek is fucking adorable. It’s too bad for me that she’s forever frowning at me.

  I wonder what it will take to make her smile more, and trust me. Because I’ve got to see her again.

  Meg whimpers softly and turns in my arms, burrows her face against my chest and wraps her arm around my waist, hanging on tight. I brush her hair off her cheek and kiss her forehead before falling asleep myself.

  Hell yes, I’ll see her again.

  Chapter Three

  Two weeks later

  “Meg, there’s a call for you on extension forty-six hundred.”

  “Okay, Jill, thanks.” I set the chart I’ve been documenting medication doses into in its slot at the nurses’ station and pick up the phone.

  “This is Meg.”

  “Megan McBride?” a polite female voice asks.

  “Yes, can
I help you?”

  “I hope so. This is Susan Jones. I’m with the Seattle football public relations office.”

  Oh, hell. My stomach flips over and my upper lip begins to sweat.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m calling on behalf of Will Montgomery. He would like to accept your invitation to come up to your department at Children’s and meet your staff and patients.”

  I rub my forehead with my fingertips and bite my lip. “Okay. I can make arrangements for that.”

  “Great. He’d like to come up on Wednesday.”

  “Of this week?” My voice is much squeakier than normal, but I can’t help it. He wants to come to my job in two days?

  “That’s right.”

  I sigh in resignation. The kids will be so excited; there’s no way I can say no.

  “Okay, what time?”

  “Around one O’clock?”

  “Okay, we’ll be expecting him.”

  I hang up and stare at the phone. Fuck me. Will Montgomery is coming here in two days. It’s been two weeks since the moment in the restroom. Since my colossally embarrassing drunk display.

  Since waking up the next morning, naked, in my empty bed.

  I really need to ask him how the hell I ended up naked. If my blurry memory serves, I climbed in bed in a t-shirt.

  And then, to cap off an incredibly confusing evening, Will had my car delivered to my townhouse the next morning so I didn’t have to take a cab to go collect it from the hotel.

  Sweet? Maybe.

  Yet, not a word from him since then. Of course, he’s a busy professional football player, and it’s football season, and maybe he’s just not interested in me after the way I laid the bitch-act on.

  I couldn’t blame him if that were the case. Not to mention, I did make it clear that I would never, ever be intimate with him.

  I’m an idiot.

  And now he wants to come to my job and meet my patients. It’s probably just a ploy to get some publicity. He’ll undoubtedly bring some press with him, have his photo taken with sick kids, and it’ll make him look great on Channel 7 News.

  Arrogant ass.

 

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