“I don’t care if the kicker takes over. That play won’t work.” I closed the notebook that I had used all season. It was my Bible. It was what won games for the Wranglers.
“Look, I know you’re not exactly excited to sit this game out, but we still need your input. We have a bye next week and then…”
“And then I’ll be back.”
Coach looked at my broken hand. “We’re lucky the press didn’t do any digging on your hand. They seem to accept the sprained wrist update in the press report. Has Dr. Ashworth cleared you to play?”
“She will. It’s not going to be a problem.”
“The AFA is going to need a signed letter from her. You know the protocol.”
“Yes, I know the damn protocol.” Everyone had reminded me over and over what it took to get back in the game after an injury. Especially an injury that required surgery. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the TV screens lining the wall. It was Sunday, and every other team except the Wranglers and Warriors were playing today.
Half my attention was on football, and the other half was on last night. I had rolled out of bed, leaving Lennon naked and alone under my sheets. I couldn’t blow off my meeting with Coach, but this was the last place I wanted to be.
Something had happened last night. Something that had changed me when I got my first taste of her. Her lips, her tits, her clit. They were all mine. I knew it as soon as I pumped inside her tight entrance. I had taken her without meaning it to cross a line, but somehow it did. I licked her. Sucked her. Kissed her until we were both drunk with each other. Fucking never felt like that before. And now I didn’t know what in the hell to do. I wanted more. I was addicted to her body. And if I didn’t get out of this meeting, she’d be gone when I got back home. I needed more. I needed her.
“Look, Wes, I’m prepared to keep Cosech in as long as we need him. If this really is a six-week recovery, I can’t count on you out there.”
I could feel the vein throb at my temple. “It’s not going to take that long. All I need is two weeks. I’ll be back. You can count on me. The entire team can count on me.”
There was a pale strip across his forehead when he took off his visor. “I hope that’s true. Really, I do, but I have to look out for the Wranglers. I have ownership to answer to. You don’t have that pressure.
We both wish this really was a sprain, but let’s face reality. No one bounces back from surgery that quickly. So for now, Cosech is our man. When you get your clearance from Dr. Ashworth, then we’ll talk.”
After last night, I wondered how hard it would be to get her to sign off on my release for the AFA. I had given her an unbelievable night. I wasn’t fooling myself. It had been incredible for me, too. The least she could do was sign some damn papers.
“In the meantime, this is the Monday night playbook.” Coach looked at me.
“All right. Run the damn play.” I pushed away from the table. “But when Cosech’s first pass gets intercepted, don’t look at me,” I warned. I knew what I was talking about. We hadn’t made it this far because of luck. There was strategy in every play. And I called the fucking shots on offense.
I walked past him, trying not to wince. My hand hurt like hell. I needed something to jumpstart the healing process. HGH would solve my problem, but I knew the trainers weren’t going to give it to me.
I had to find another way.
“I’ll see you before the game, Blakefield.”
“See you then.” I left the man going over his new plays while the games blared on the TVs.
***
I didn’t like wearing the sling. It made me look weak. It made me look like I was injured and I hated that. When I took it off last night, I forgot about the pain. Seeing Lennon’s body. Hearing her moan. Watching her rock into me with total abandon was the best medicine I could get. But right now, it hurt like hell. I was considering taking a few of the pain pills she had prescribed.
I turned my keys in the apartment door. She was standing in her black dress.
“Leaving so soon?” I asked.
“Well, I didn’t know how long your meeting was going to be, and it’s not like we talked about plans. One-time deal, right?” She seemed nervous. She kept looking away.
“It didn’t take that long.” I closed the door behind me. “Trying to figure out the plays for the Monday night game.”
“Oh.”
I walked toward her. Just being this close to her made me want to rip that black dress off her again. She was under my skin. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman made me react like this.
“Why don’t you stick around?” I winked. “We could watch the games. Order some food.”
“Oh, I don’t really watch football.” She shook her head.
“Well then, this is your lucky day, Doc.” I took her by the hand and led her to the couch. I sat her next to me and reached for the remote.
“What are you doing?”
“You are getting ready to get a lesson in football from the most elite quarterback in the American Football Association.” I grinned at her, flipping through, looking for the Cyclones’ game.
“Wes…” She hesitated, twisting her lip under her teeth. It was enough to make my cock strain against my jeans. Those lips were sexy as hell.
“It’s Sunday. That means football.” I eyed her.
“For you, it means football. For me, it means I should go home. We said this was only one night. Last night.”
“Wasn’t last night fun?”
I saw her instantly blush. “Yeah. It was amazing.”
“Then stay.” I turned up the volume. The first quarter was just starting.
She looked down at her dress. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes. I think I should just call a cab.” She laughed lightly. “I thought I was past doing the walk of shame.”
“Hold on.” I hopped up from the couch and returned with a pair of boxers and one of my jerseys. I held it toward her.
“This?”
I nodded. “Try it on.”
She grabbed the ensemble and walked into the bedroom. A few minutes later, she returned, wearing my jersey and a pair of boxers with the Wranglers logo on them. My heart almost beat out of my chest. The skimpy black dress had nothing on this. She was fucking hot as hell in my clothes.
She sat next to me. “This looks ridiculous.”
I stared at her, trying to keep my cool. Trying to remind myself who the fuck I was. “It’s hot, Lennon. You’re the sexiest woman I think I’ve ever laid eyes on.” The lines kept rolling off my tongue like I was some damn love-struck teenager.
“There’s nothing ridiculous about how you look right now.”
“Really?”
She tucked her feet under her and curled up next to me. “Really.” I nodded.
“All right. Teach me.”
“What?” I had forgotten everything. Her breasts peeked through the deep cut in the jersey, and I could see the pink little buds I had sucked so hard last night. My cock was aching.
“The game.” She pointed at the TV screen. “You said you were going to teach me. I know absolutely nothing, so start from the beginning.”
“Right. Football.” I swallowed, tearing my eyes away from her tits. “All right. The game is divided into two halves, and those are split into two quarters each.”
She was a surgeon. She was brilliant. Explaining football to her seemed insane, but she listened intently as I went through the rules of the game, the numbers of players, how the defensive and offensive teams were set up. By the end, she was starting to get into it. There was a new kind of light in her eye. The one of a fan.
“How about a beer? You can’t watch football without beer.” I made my way to the kitchen.
“What? No, you can’t drink on your pain medication.” Her tone was instantly sharp.
I grabbed two bottles from the fridge. “Do you ever turn off being a doctor?” I twisted the cap off one and took a swig.
Her eyes narrowed. “D
o you ever turn off being a football player?”
I chuckled, handing her the other bottle. “You don’t have to worry. I haven’t had one of those pain pills in days. I don’t like the stuff. I don’t like how they make me feel.”
She looked doubtful. “But how is your hand feeling? Let me take a look at it.”
Before I could protest, she had the sling off my shoulder and was examining my fingers. She leaned closely to my wrist and I could feel the warmth of her breath rolling over my skin. It was instinct as my left hand twirled a strand of her hair between my fingers.
She looked up. “I think we need to get you back in for an earlier appointment.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You haven’t been taking care of this like you should, Wes. Your hand is still swollen. I’m going to get ice.” She pushed off the couch and headed for the freezer, where she began to put together a makeshift icepack.
“I wouldn’t usually recommend ice this late after surgery, but you need it.” She touched the ice—wrapped in a towel—to my hand as I winced. “It still hurts, doesn’t it?”
“That means it’s healing, right?” I searched her eyes for false hope. I needed these bones healed yesterday.
“Not necessarily.” She reattached the sling across my shoulder and cupped the ice on my wrist. “Twenty minutes of ice and then we’ll give you a break. No arguing.” She eyed me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I grinned, reaching for the beer.
“I feel bad about this, Wes.”
“Why would you say that?”
She wouldn’t look at me. “Because of last night. We probably reinjured your hand. I-I wasn’t thinking about what we were doing.”
I almost spit out my beer. “You think you hurt my hand? Believe me, I wasn’t feeling any pain.” I grinned.
“I’m being serious. It was wrong on a lot of levels. I should have been more careful about your injury.”
“Hey, you didn’t hurt my hand.” I wanted to kiss the sad look off her face. “Your kind of house call was what every patient needs.”
“Well, it’s not happening again.” She folded her arms across her chest. “This shows me how reckless it was. Having sex with a post-surgery patient was irresponsible of me.”
“Not happening again? You sure about that?” She had thrown a challenge flag, whether she knew it or not. And Wes Blakefield never backed down from a challenge.
“I’m completely sure.” Her lips thinned into a straight line.
I looked at the screen and then at Lennon. “It’s halftime, and I’m feeling like I need the kind of medicine only you can give me.”
She scooted away from me on the couch. “Well, you’re not getting it.”
“Oh, I think I am.” I snagged the top of the boxers she was wearing and slid them over her hips. They were loose on her thin body and easy to discard.
“What are you doing?”
“Medicine,” I growled against her stomach.
She squirmed under me. “This can’t…” I kissed her navel and sucked along her hipbone.
I moved back on my heels and looked down at her. “Pull that jersey up just over your tits.”
Her fingers tucked underneath the fabric and she dragged the hem over her breasts, rubbing her erect nipples as it grazed over them. I pulled the boxers off her ankles. Her chest heaved, and her eyes glazed over with lust.
“Now I want you to make yourself come.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that in front of you,” she whispered.
I grabbed her hand, edging it over her stomach until her fingers sank between her slit. She bucked as I slid them against her clit and then brought them to my lips. I sucked the sweetness from her fingers and watched her sigh as I returned her fingers to her folds. I let go of her wrist.
“I promise you’ll enjoy it.” My dick was so hard I wanted to slam into her and fuck her until we both couldn’t talk, but watching her fingers slide between her legs as she fought the temptations coursing through her was such a turn on.
Her pace quickened, and I could see her thighs begin to tremble and her lips quiver.
“Wes, I’m going to…”
She didn’t need to say another word. I buried my head between her legs and sucked hard as the juices flowed from her. My tongue twisted inside her as I flicked over her clit.
She screamed my name, bowing off the couch, but I didn’t stop. I licked and lapped, greedy for every drip of her. Every bit of sweet essence. I felt her hands in my hair and her hips rocking upward. Her walls clenching around me as a second orgasm hit her with powerful thrusts from my tongue.
“I can’t.” Her hand moved back and forth. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not enough,” I growled, clamping down on her clit.
Her hands coasted over her body, rubbing her breasts, wrapping around her waist, pulling her knees wider. She was lost to me. I kissed her sweet, swollen entrance as the last waves of the orgasm rolled through her, and sat up to see her gaze.
I pushed the athletic pants down my thighs, positioning my cock against her slick heat.
“Now.” She nodded. “If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to explode.”
I pushed slowly, reveling in every inch of her tight heat. Taking in how she gripped me, pulsed around me. And then I lost control. I wanted to own this woman. I wanted to make her mine in every way possible. She was irresistible. Her smart mouth. Her beautiful eyes. Her sexy legs. And the sweetest slice of heaven I’d ever tasted. I slammed into her again.
“You’re mine, Doc,” I growled. The need to possess her was powerful. My cock was so buried in her, all I could think about was how to make her scream my name over and over. How to make her come. How to claim her. How to worship her body with pleasure and heat. How I never wanted her to leave.
“Oh God, yes. Yes!” She clawed at my back as I reared back and slid into her.
“Come with me,” I commanded. But I looked in her eyes, and something in my heart locked in place. I kissed her tenderly as I pulsed deep inside her. My tongue twined along hers as I memorized her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breath hitched every time I plunged further, spreading her legs wider each time.
Her body vibrated and writhed under me as I pinned her against the couch, feeling our climaxes hit the ceiling, then crash around us. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. We were both falling to pieces. Our bodies betraying us.
I tried to catch my breath as the aftershocks hit my cock in violent shakes. I didn’t want to pull out. I wanted to lie on this couch the rest of the day, with football in the background and my cock buried deep inside her.
10
Lennon
I couldn’t stop panting. My body was firing at a rapid rate. Every sensation felt like a new spark. Like I was touching a live wire.
It had happened again. Exactly what I said couldn’t happen. But one look in Wes’s eyes, and he had me under some kind of damn sex spell. He opened his lips and I obeyed. And it was worth every sweaty, dirty second of what he did to me.
It was as if being with him threw every brain cell out of my head. I became someone I didn’t even know. I was sexual and strong. Powerful in bed. The things he did to me were addictive—I didn’t know if I could get enough of him. But it had to end. It had to be enough.
My career was at stake. My reputation. And my heart. Wes Blakefield wasn’t a one-woman man. I knew that. It didn’t take ten seconds online to figure it out. I wasn’t going down that road again with another man. One crash with infidelity was enough. Wes was trouble. There was a reason he was so good at what he did in bed. He’d had more experience than I could dream of.
I’d let myself have a little weekend fun, and I had to convince myself I could walk away satisfied with the night we’d spent together.
I tried to adjust myself under the weight of his body, but I could feel his heart pound against my breast.
“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, kissing my neck.
&n
bsp; Could he read it in my eyes? All my doubts. All my protests. All the rules we had to discuss that we’d broken repeatedly.
My lips parted as he moved to my throat. The after sex was almost as good as the foreplay. My body felt calm and alive at the same time. I felt safe and close to him, as if I’d somehow given him the deepest parts of me when I came in his arms. The way he could switch from animal hunger to a slow seduction was hotter than hot. Wes had me and he knew it.
“When’s your next shift?” His teeth nipped at my earlobe.
“I have to be at the hospital at seven,” I managed to say, while my body moved under his direction. “But I need to go home and shower and get clothes. And sleep. I need to sleep. I have a surgery in the morning.”
Wes wasn’t the kind of man who took no for an answer. He was cocky and arrogant, and from the first time I met him, I thought he was a complete chauvinistic asshole. But while his cock was rocking against my core, none of that seemed to matter. I wanted to say yes to him. I wanted to believe he wasn’t only hot, but that he was good. That he actually cared. That taking me to bed meant something to him. Had I lost my mind?
“I want you to stay.”
I tried to wiggle free. “I can’t. We both know that can’t happen.”
He pushed inside me, and I felt how hard he had gotten again. Holy shit. My hips bucked instantly.
“It can. What is it you’re worried about?”
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t remember why I kept telling him no. He struck a sensitive spot and I moaned. “You don’t play fair.”
He grinned wickedly. “Me not play fair? With this body, you have me eating out of your hand, or anywhere else you want.”
I closed my eyes, my head rolling back. It felt so good, but I knew it was wrong. I had signed a contract and declared an oath that I would not have a personal relationship with any patient. His hips ground into mine and I gasped.
“I can’t be your doctor, Wes. I can’t.”
“Then give me Dr. Bad Breath.” His mouth landed on my nipple and he sucked until it was hard and perked in his teeth.
I nodded. That could work. I could pass his case off first thing in the morning. Hand him over to Dr. Evans and forego the doctor-patient relationship conflict. But I felt the queasiness in my stomach. That wasn’t the only problem. It was him. It was the womanizing playboy who had me flipped upside down.
Sexy Bachelor Page 66