by Sophia Henry
Once we’re back outside, Kristen takes a deep breath and sighs. “Sorry to do this, guys, but we’re going to bail. I’ve lost my appetite and I’m super tired.” She pulls Auden into her arms first, then proceeds to do the same to everyone.
“It was great meeting you both,” I say when Kristen stops in front of me.
“You, too.” She wraps her arms around me. “I’m sure we’ll see you again.”
When Kristen and Pavel are out of earshot, Luke asks. “You guys still want dinner?”
“I need food ASAP,” Aleksandr says. “We’re heading for the street meat.”
“Amen,” Auden agrees.
“You hungry?” Luke asks me.
“Not for food,” I whisper. I’m actually starving, but eating can wait. I already have a mini beer gut. I don’t need to add a food baby before getting naked with Luke.
He takes my hand in his and turns back to his friends, “This is where we leave you guys. I’m gonna walk Bree home.”
Auden and Aleksandr share a quick glance and smile because they know what’s up.
After the four of us exchange goodbye hugs, and Auden and Aleksandr walk off, Luke shakes his hand from my grasp and places it on my ass, guiding me the opposite way.
Luke stops in front of the entrance to the Avenue condos, which is less than half a block from Basil. “You’re coming up, right?”
“Hell, yes.”
I’m practically bouncing on my toes while he places a gray key fob in front of a pad mounted on the wall of the building. The lock clicks and he opens one of the glass doors, holding it for me as I slide through.
“Hey, Truman!” Luke taps his knuckles on the concierge desk as we walk by, which causes a kid in a dark-blue suit sitting behind it to look up. He smiles immediately.
“Hey, Luke! How was the crawl?”
“Amazing,” he responds, but doesn’t stop to exchange any more pleasantries. Instead, he laces his fingers through mine and pulls me toward more glass doors that lead to a bright foyer with elevators.
“Do all of the buildings around here look the same?” I ask, scanning the tranquil stone waterfall wall we pass. The Avenue has the same stark, modern decor as my apartment building. It’s definitely a clean style, but there isn’t much character, which is what I expected from a charming southern city like Charlotte.
“The ones that were built around the same time do. Or maybe it’s the same builder? I’m not sure.” Luke chuckles.
News headlines scroll on a TV screen built into the wall next to the elevator. No awkward conversations with neighbors waiting in this place. You can watch CNN instead of interact.
Once inside, Luke scans his key fob again and presses the button for the thirty-first floor.
“Wow. It’s maximum security in here.”
“There are a lot of safety features,” Luke agrees. “It’s a far cry from the place I rented when I played in Detroit. My apartment got broken into three times in one season.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” he says. “It got so bad I had to move all my stuff into my coach’s garage and sleep on Varenkov’s couch until I found a new place.”
“That’s crazy.”
I can’t say I’ve ever lived in a neighborhood like that, but I did work in a few hospitals that were located in rough parts of town.
The elevator doors open and we’re greeted by another built-in TV, this time on the wall across from the doors. I’ve only been in this building a few minutes and I’m already suffering from technology overload.
“It’s my own fault,” Luke continues, leading me down the hallway to our left. “I should have moved in with one of my teammates, but I was stubborn.” He stops at a door with 3110 on a white plaque next to it. “I’d never lived by myself before, so I was more excited about being able to afford a place than I was about figuring out what area would be safest. I wasn’t bothered by the neighborhood so much as I’d forgotten how quickly the wrong kind of people would figure out how much I traveled.”
“I’ve always lived in pretty safe neighborhoods,” I say as Luke unlocks the door with a regular old key. “With gates and stuff.”
I make it a point to add the “and stuff” so it sounds like the gate might be a feature of the neighborhood, rather than something specific to our massive sprawling house in suburban Los Angeles with entry gates at the bottom of our driveway. It probably still sounds pretentious.
Yeah, I grew up in that kind of place. Like I said, being the child of people who started a health-food empire has its advantages—and disadvantages.
“Gates and stuff?” he asks, extending his arm and allowing me to scoot past him into his place. “Welcome.”
The condo is sleek and modern with light-gray walls, concrete ceilings, and stainless-steel appliances. Straight across from the entrance are amazing windows that span the entire back wall. I have the same type in my apartment and I love them. Seeing Charlotte lit up at night reminds me that I’m in a real city, even if it is so much smaller than what I’m used to.
“This is gorgeous.” I take another step in, sliding a hand along the gorgeous black granite of the raised countertop to my left that acts as a divider between the walkway into the condo and the kitchen area. My first thought is that he’s completely OCD because every surface is clean. No stacks of mail on the counter or dirty laundry strewn about. No fingerprints on the fridge. Maybe he has a maid service.
“Thanks.” Luke stands a little taller and the skin wrinkles around his eyes. That’s when I realize there’s no cleaning lady. He takes great pride in his home. “I bought it from Gribov about a year ago. He and Kristen wanted a house. I wanted a condo. It worked out perfectly.”
He hangs his keys on a hook above a light switch in the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. You want a water?” he asks, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle.
“Please.”
A cherry-red couch sticks out in the midst of the neutral grays. I spread my arms and let myself fall backward onto it. Closing my eyes, I rub my cheek against a pillow and sink into the plush, suede-like cushions, letting them envelop me. It feels great to be off my feet after walking, dancing, and drinking all day. But when my head spins, I realize just how drunk I am. “This is the most comfortable piece of furniture I have ever touched.”
“Everyone loves Big Red. I’m gonna write a book about it someday. Seduced by a Couch.”
Opening my eyes to look at him while I answer isn’t even an option. Big Red got me, hook, line, and sinker, within two seconds. “Count me in for a chapter,” I murmur.
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re writing that one tonight,” Luke says with complete confidence. His deep, sexy voice makes me open my eyes, though my lids feel heavy. Big Red is comfy, but getting on top of Luke sounds more appealing.
He stops to pry his shoes off with his toes before lowering himself onto the couch and curling up beside me. I didn’t think there was any way this couch could be any more comfortable, but I’m wrong. When Luke slides one arm under me and the other around my waist, I feel safe and warm.
He puts his hand on my hip, rests his forehead on mine, and kisses me softly. All I can think of is how I can get closer to Luke. My hand moves to the back of his head and I curl my fingers in his long locks. His nose brushes mine when he tilts his head to kiss me again. This time I don’t let it end quickly. I hold his face to mine with my grip on his hair. His chest rises and falls faster than before, and I know he’s getting as ramped up as I am.
He moves his hand from my waist to the space between us and reaches for the button on my jeans. We’re mashed up against each other and he can’t get his hand where it needs to be.
My back is pressed against the couch, and I don’t have anywhere to go, so Luke tilts his hips, creating a small gap between our bodies. It’s just enough for him to pop open the button and crank my zipper down one-handed. I’m pretty impressed with his skills, especially after all the drinks we’ve had to
day.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he whispers, stopping his pursuit. “You seem really drunk.”
“What?” I ask. “I’m fine.”
“Bree, you can barely keep your eyes open.”
“Please,” I plead against his ear. I grab his hand and push it into my jeans, sending his fingers closer to finding out how much I want him to continue. I bite my lower lip and hold it with my teeth. My heart throbs and my breath gets heavier as Luke slides his fingers lower into my jeans.
“Luke,” I moan when he finally reaches the sweet, wet spot between my legs.
“Fuck, Bree.” The words come out in a hiss of air. He pulls his hand out, but I arch toward him. “You’re drunk. I’m drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk,” I say. It’s a half-truth. I’m inebriated enough to let loose, but not so much that I don’t know what I’m doing. I know that I’m about to have Luke Daniels inside me.
Chapter 3
Luke
I want to fuck this girl so badly I can almost taste her on my tongue already. But her eyes keep rolling into the back of her head, and I know she’s way too drunk for me to keep going.
Even if she says yes, I need to stop. I’m smart enough to know that you don’t have sex with a drunk girl. No matter what. I take a deep breath and try to escape to a place of Zen, hoping my dick will follow suit and calm the fuck down.
That’s when Bree reaches between our bodies and tugs at my jeans, popping the button open. She thrusts her hand into the front of my pants and takes hold of my cock. I guess I made it pretty easy for her, since I’m always commando.
“Bree.” Her name catches in my throat because her grip feels so fucking good. I try to back up, but she doesn’t relent, sliding her hand over my dick. I swallow hard and move my hand to her hip. I need to regain control of the situation before we do something she regrets in the morning, but I can’t remember the last time I wanted to stop a situation like this. Probably never.
“We’re gonna have to hold off on this part.” Our faces are so close our breath mingles. The smell of beer and vanilla wafts from her. Reminding me again that we’ve both had too much to drink.
“Really?” Her question comes out as a pant. She thinks she’s being tricky when she takes hold of my hand on her hip and slides it back between her fucking legs. I can’t help it when my dick swells in her grasp. Her lips twist into a sexy smile of satisfaction and I want to toss being a good guy out the window and throw her legs over my shoulders.
“This”—I remove my hand again and hold it up—“is staying right here.” I place it back on her hip and give it a squeeze. Her chest heaves with a melodramatic sigh, pushing the tight T-shirt covering her tits toward my face. “Don’t be a drama queen,” I tease her.
“I want you inside me, Luke. I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk. I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you at Valhalla.” Bree squeezes my cock.
“Jesus,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut. Her grip feels amazing, though I’ve pressed my pelvis against her so that she doesn’t have room to jerk me off. “I want to be with you, too, Bree. So fucking badly. You don’t know how much it hurts, like, physically hurts, right now.”
“I bet I do,” she mumbles.
I smile and move my hand to her head, sliding it through her hair. “But we’ve both had too much to drink. If we try to do this now, you’re never gonna be able to come and it’ll give me a complex even though I know it’s because of the alcohol, not my magic stick.”
“Did you really just call your penis a magic stick?” she asks through a laugh.
I put my finger on her lips. “You are smart and fun and fucking gorgeous. But I’m not the guy that fucks drunk girls. The last thing I want is for you to wake up with regrets.”
She could write a fucking contract in lipstick on my bathroom mirror right now and I still wouldn’t fuck her. Not just because I’m not that kind of guy, but also because the last thing I need is a lawsuit. I’m not saying she’s a bad person, but I don’t know this girl. There are a ton of slimy dudes out there, but there are also some girls who just want to get something from a professional athlete. I honestly don’t get that vibe from Bree, but I have to be smart—for both of us.
She leans in and presses a hand against my chest, the one that doesn’t have a warm firm grip on my dick. “I’m not that drunk,” she sings softly. Her voice is a raspy whisper, and sexy as fuck.
“That’s what every drunk person says before they make a bad decision.”
“If you think my hand feels good, just imagine what my warm, wet mouth feels like.”
Her face hovers over mine, so close that our lips touch when she speaks. She licks my bottom lip before taking it in her mouth. When she tries to move her hand, I press against her harder, restricting her.
“I don’t think sucking your cock would be a bad decision, do you?” she asks.
Fucking hell! Her dirty mouth is such a turn-on I want to ball up my self-control and chuck that shit off the balcony. Bree takes her hand off my dick and grabs my hip to keep me from falling off the couch.
“You’re fucking killing me.” I say, readjusting myself and snuggling into her. Bree laughs and relaxes in my arms. “We can fuck in the morning, when you’ll remember it.” I trace the curve of her body from the side of her rib cage and over her hip.
“So you’re saying it’ll be memorable?” Her voice is soft, drifting into a sexy, sleepy whisper.
“Fireworks and dancing pandas, baby,” I tease, though I have no clue where the dancing pandas came from. I must’ve had more to drink than I realize. “Let’s move this to my bed.”
Instead of answering, she burrows into my chest. I inhale the soothing botanical scent of her hair and feel like I’m in at a high-end spa. Within minutes, Bree’s breathing slows to an even, gentle rhythm and I know she’s passed out.
Though I love the feel of her warm body flush against me, I can’t sleep on Big Red all night. We’d be on the floor with one roll. I gently maneuver Bree off me so I can slide off the couch. Then I lift her up and carry her to my bed.
I’m too tired to think about changing her into makeshift pajamas from my wardrobe. I don’t do anything except shimmy her jeans to the floor. But I feel like a creep leaving her pant-less. What if she wakes up wondering what the fuck she’s doing here and why her clothes are off?
I cross the room and open the top drawer of my dresser, grabbing a pair of green plaid boxers I’ve never worn. Taking great care not to wake her, I slide them up her legs and let them rest loosely on her hips. The sexy sight of Bree’s sleek, tan legs and lacy, pink panties makes my dick swell. I can honestly say that this is the first time I’ve ever gotten excited putting clothes on a woman.
I hightail it to the bathroom to grab a quick, cold shower and relieve my suffering cock. Once I’m finished, I set out an extra toothbrush I found stashed in my drawer. It’s brand-new, in the package. I keep it that way in case Bree’s a germophobe or something.
What the fuck do I care if she’s a germophobe? It’s only one night. Odd. I’ve never thought of this shit before with other girls. Then again, it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone over. Been in a bit of a funk since my surgery, as if the loss of my career affected not only my head, but also my libido. But Bree had my dick thicker than Thor’s hammer since the second I saw her at Valhalla.
I crawl into bed and curl against Bree’s side, spooning into her curves. The numbers on the clock glow behind her head, informing me that it’s 10:07 p.m., which is the latest I’ve ever lasted on the night of this pub crawl. It’s one of those crazy, all-day events that starts early and usually ends early. Good thing the boys have a game tomorrow or we’d probably still be tipping back shots of vodka. Those Russians toast to every motherfucking thing.
Her hair falls across my pillow in soft waves, as if she lets it air-dry after washing it. It’s a welcome change from the crunch or grease of women’s hair products. Before I close my eyes, I study Bree
’s face, scanning every inch of her smooth, bare skin before settling my gaze on her pink lips, which are slightly parted. For a slight second I imagine her mouth around my dick, as she’d suggested earlier.
I shake my head and smooth a hand through my hair. Should’ve taken her up on that offer before she passed out.
Settling in next to Bree fills me with an odd sense of peace. It’s been too long since I’ve curled up with a woman in my own bed. I don’t invite many girls to my condo. It’s my sanctuary, the only place I can completely relax and forget the problems of life.
I listen to every breath she takes, pretending the stress in my own life washes away every time she exhales. When I finally drift off, it’s with a sense of calm I haven’t felt in years.
Chapter 4
Bree
Where the fuck am I? is the first thing I wonder when I wake up. Then I recognize the strong, tatted-up arms hugging me against a warm, muscular chest and remember that I went home with Luke Daniels last night. Suddenly, the entire day comes back to me. But my head is pounding and I need to use the bathroom, so I’m not in the right mindset to recall every detail yet. I turn slowly in an attempt not to wake up Luke, but when I glance at his face, his bright eyes are peering at me.
“Morning,” he says with a smile.
“Good morning.” I lift my head and brush his cheek with my lips.
“Any regrets?”
“Just one.”
Luke bolts up onto his elbow. “What?” He looks concerned, like he messed up in some way.
I release a dramatic sigh and raise my eyes to the concrete ceiling. “I really wanted to see those dancing pandas.”
Luke’s tense shoulders slump with relief. I hope he realizes my words mean I remember everything. Especially the part where he shot me down when I was revved up and ready to go.
“I regret using that line,” Luke says before he’s overtaken by a yawn.
I pat his chest then stretch my arms over my head. “Mind if I run to the bathroom?”
“Go for it. There’s a toothbrush on the counter for you.”