Filthy Player (A Rough Riders Novel Book 2)

by Stacey Lynn

  “When?”

  A grin lifted her lips and she pointed back toward a playground we’d already passed. “I had my first kiss back under that jungle gym.”

  My head snapped toward the jungle gym. The playground was old and not updated, still had the dome of metal bars from when I was a kid. “Seriously? You let some guy take advantage of you in a public park?” My expression went aghast.

  “Who says he took advantage of me? Maybe I was the one doing all the taking.”

  Holy hell. It was the first time she’d so brazenly flirted with me, bumping her hip into mine and squeezing my hand. Felt like a gold medal won after years of brutal training and time investment.

  Yeah. I liked this girl.

  “Nice to know I’m with an experienced woman, then. At least one of us has it.”

  She pulled to an abrupt stop and she turned to me. Even in the dim shine of the poorly lit path, I could tell her face had paled. “What? But you said earlier in the truck…”

  “Holy shit! I’m not a virgin!” I shouted. I tugged my hand from hers and covered my face, laughing my ass off. “That’s what you thought I meant? You’re a nut.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to think when you talk about being experienced?”

  “Jeez, woman. Get your head out of the gutter. I’m not always thinking about sex.” She flashed me a look and I quickly amended my statement. I raised my hands. “Okay. When I’m around you, I’m pretty much always thinking about sex, but that time, I wasn’t talking about it honestly.”

  A blush hit her cheeks. Hard and fast. “Do you always say what you think?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever heard of a social filter?”

  “Please. Do I look like the kind of guy who cares what people say about me?” I flung my arms out, might have puffed out my chest like a peacock strutting. Her eyes roamed my body, slowly, as if she was already inspecting every inch of me while I was naked. “Need a closer look?” I asked when she didn’t speak.

  A sliver of her tongue poked out and wiped her bottom lip. She turned back toward the pond. “Nope.”

  “Sure you don’t.”

  She flashed me a look over her shoulder and winked. “Need and want are different things, Beaux Hale.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  PAIGE

  “Woman,” he growled and charged at me. Beaux had flung a blanket and cooler over his shoulder when we started walking but as he charged me, the blanket flew off his shoulder and the cooler slapped his thigh.

  I screamed and started running but I was no match for him. Three steps and I was flung up in the air and one of Beaux’s arms was behind my back, the other under my knees.

  “Can’t tease me like that and not expect retribution.” He spun around and headed back to the blanket. “Grab the blanket.”

  I tried to wiggle out of his hold but he gripped me tighter, lifting my legs high. I scrambled and grabbed his shoulder.

  “Can’t grab the blanket while you’re tearing through my shirt.”

  “I can’t get the blanket when you’re holding me.”

  His eyes glimmered. “I lift weights more than three times heavier than you. Let go of my shoulder before you tear my tendons with your nails and get the blanket.”

  He swung me like he was going to toss me and I lost my grip.

  “Beaux!” I screamed as I tried to reach the ground but he lifted me higher in the air. I was dangling, upside down, my knees hooked only by his forearm. “Put me down!”

  “Get the blanket before I drop you.”

  He was laughing. The force of his laugh vibrated through my legs up to my center. And I stopped squealing and tried to look at him. He was so damn beautiful. Not a manly enough name for him but he wasn’t handsome, either.

  He was a force of power and confidence all on his own.

  I was swimming upside down, falling for this guy.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  His arm dropped and I screamed his name again. This time though, the blanket brushed against my fingertips and I clawed at it, gripping it in my fingers. Then I was up, his hand at my back and I was thrown over his shoulder, along with the blanket, covering me.

  “Put me down.”

  “No way.”

  We were both laughing, his shoulders shaking from it. All the blood rushed to my face.

  Awesome. I’d look like an eggplant when he put me on my feet.

  “Put me down now or you’re not even getting a kiss from me, Beaux Hale, and I was planning on giving you a lot more than that.”

  He pulled to a stop.

  “What are you going to give me?”

  All of me. I wisely, and barely, held the errant thought back. If I told Beaux I wanted him to do all the things to me he’d teased me about, I’d be naked and beneath him in five seconds flat. “You’ll just have to wait to find out.”

  It was all the talk of sex. That’s what was making me act like some brazen little hussy, flirting and throwing myself at him.

  But I was tired of holding back. I was tired of putting my life on hold, tired physically. I wanted to reach for something that was mine. I didn’t lie when I said I liked working at the garage. It was my second home and I wanted it to stay in business more than I wanted to be a reporter.

  When I was with Beaux, I didn’t stress about anything. He gave me the freedom and escape from responsibilities while strengthening me for the next day at the same time.

  Beaux Hale, quarterback of a Super Bowl winning team, summertime RV partier…all around nice guy.

  Who would have thought?

  I tossed the blanket over my head and braced my hands on his lower back, pushing myself up. “Can I walk?”

  “No. I sort of like having your ass right next to my face.” He turned his head, and playfully bit the back of my thigh.

  “Ouch.”

  “It didn’t hurt, but if it did, I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

  I couldn’t suppress my shiver. My whole body lit up at the idea. His words, the image of me, legs spread, his mouth at my thighs…my ass…more pleasurable places. I moaned, unable to stop myself at the thought of his mess of blond hair between my legs.

  “Jesus, Paige.” He stopped and set me down. “That turn you on? I felt your whole body shake.”

  “Maybe.” My hands slid to his shirt, fingertips dug into his pecs. Good grief. This man. His eyes were narrowed on me, a few sprinkled lights in the background hiding the color of his blues I knew were piercing based on the heat rolling off him.

  His whole body had tightened, chest moved erratically up and down as he breathed harshly.

  “I didn’t bring you here to screw you on a blanket, but you’re making it awfully difficult not to think about it.”

  I pressed my chest toward him, slid my hand up, up, and up toward his neck, pulling him down to me. “Can plans change?”

  I had never been this bold. Get me around Beaux and I wasn’t lost in the size of his wallet or his contract, but everything that he was showing himself to be.

  He studied me intensely, blinking slowly and then shaking his head. “Not yet. I have other plans for you.”

  Disappointment swirled inside me, making me tremble with untended to desire but I inhaled a deep breath and moved toward where he laid the blanket on the grass.

  In front of us was a pond, the sounds of nature echoing and shimmering across the water and all around us. Frogs croaked, cicadas purred, and crickets chirped all in a rhythm of their own but beautiful in the stillness.

  I wasn’t a huge nature person, but as Beaux settled next to me on the blanket and unloaded the cooler, I could have stayed there forever.

  Visions of camping and bonfires and cold beer slid into my mind. We’d be on lounge chairs in the middle of nowhere, nothing to do but talk and laugh, maybe a few stolen kisses.

  “Here,” he said, jolting me out of the fantasy. He handed me a glass of white wine in a plastic cup and poured one for himself. “Can I tell yo
u what I am inexperienced with?”

  I barely suppressed choking on my wine. “Sure.”

  “It’s not, sex, Paige.” He smiled, white teeth sparkling in the setting darkness.

  “I didn’t say it was,” I said innocently.

  “I can practically hear your dirty thoughts. But what I was going to say earlier was dating.”

  “Dating?”

  He had one leg stretched out straight, the other bent, knee high and Converse shoe planted on the blanket. His arm holding his wineglass dangled in his large hand, arm settled on his knee. Looking out at the water, he pushed back his hair. “Yeah. I gotta be honest here. I have no clue what in the hell I’m doing. I haven’t had a date in who knows how long.”

  My grip tightened on my glass. He didn’t date. He did, most likely, go around screwing random women, but why wouldn’t he? He was in his twenties, single, and a multi-millionaire who drew notice wherever he went.

  “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this,” I mumbled and took a hefty swallow of my drink.

  “Because I want to be honest with you. And because I like you. I don’t want you sitting here thinking I’ve fucked every chick who walked up to me, but I don’t want you thinking I do this shit all the time, either.”

  The urge to ask why me burned on my tongue, but I washed it away with more wine. “Well, wow. I mean, I’m not sure I’m up for this kind of pressure.” I nudged his shoulder with mine and stayed close. He was warm. Smelled fantastic. And his hard, muscled body felt like a boulder. “I mean, what if I turn you off dating forever?”

  He laughed. It was low and rumbly and before I knew it, he’d set down his glass of wine, reached for me and yanked me onto his lap.

  “Hey,” he said, once he had me settled facing him.

  “Hey, you.” I set down my glass of wine before I dropped it. Our faces were inches apart and I was sitting on his lap. Straddling him. His knees were bracing my back behind me. I was cocooned in all things Beaux.

  I was falling for him. His honesty, his looks, his sincerity. Everything about this guy screamed too good to be true but I didn’t care.

  If I was going to crash and burn, I wanted to enjoy the fall.

  I slid my hands into his hair and clasped my hands together at the back of his neck. “Since we’re confessing things here, I have to say that I think your ass looks really good in your uniform, I’ve always wanted to run my hands through your hair when it’s sweaty after a game, and I’m a really big fan of yours, Beaux Hale.”

  “Yeah?” His shoulders shook with laughter and his head tipped to the side. His hands at my hips slid down to my backside and he squeezed. “I think your ass is pretty fantastic too. Why didn’t you tell me you were a fan?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t want it to go to your head.”

  Speaking of, one of his heads was becoming more pronounced the longer I sat on him. I’d felt it immediately, but the longer we were connected, the harder he became. I dug my fingers into the back of his neck to keep from rocking against him.

  Good Lord, this guy was impressive. It’d been so long since I’d had sex, good sex at least, the kind that left your hips sore and you remembering every moment for days with a little secretive grin on your lips even strangers knew you’d been laid recently. I’d forgotten how good all of this felt.

  The temptation. Desire. The anticipation of that moment when everything clicked together, when you connected with another person.

  My pulse thundered and as we laughed, grinning like fools, I couldn’t wait anymore.

  I had to have him.

  “Beaux,” I whispered, my voice gone needy and thick.

  “I confess I really want to kiss you,” he rumbled, shoving his face into my throat, “and I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Then don’t. I’m with you, one hundred percent.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  PAIGE

  “Fuck, Paige,” he groaned.

  I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I wasn’t someone who threw themselves at men. I certainly didn’t straddle their laps in a park, but Beaux was different.

  He was playful and sweet, and around him, it appeared my inhibitions took a flying leap into the pond.

  He pressed his lips against the side of my throat and my body lit with anticipation. His full, warm lips against me, the slightest hint of stubble scraped my sensitive flesh as he moved higher until our mouths were inches from each other.

  He gazed at me like he was trying to pry into my soul and my eyes fluttered close, unable to handle the inspection.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in.

  A shiver wracked my spine and I clung to him, fingertips pressing to the back of his neck, and into his hair right before he moved in, lips sealing us together.

  A fire ignited deep inside my stomach.

  He slid his tongue against my lips, seeking entrance and I allowed it, parting for him and as I tasted him, the mix of man and sweet white wine, I was gone.

  I was swimming in the ocean, free falling, skydiving without a tandem partner. Beaux’s kisses sent me swirling into the eye of a hurricane and I couldn’t care what happened once I landed. Everything inside my body soared to life, heated, cooled. I held him against me, my hands in his hair, his shoulders.

  I clung to his biceps like I’d fall without him but he held me just as tightly. Our mouths fused together, tasted each other, and I reveled in the moment until I was shamelessly moving against him. The friction of our denim, the pressure of his hands on me, guiding me and helping me, shot delicious sparks up my spine, and I groaned into his mouth.

  “So good,” I whimpered, my breathing erratic, my chest tight like it could explode.

  I was lost in his pleasure. The only sounds I could now hear were my needy little whimpers and his harsh breathing.

  “Fuck,” he groaned and flipped us over. My legs opened immediately, taking his weight and then we were together again, fully clothed.

  I didn’t care. I lost all track of time while we made out like teenagers. I wanted this.

  Wanted him.

  “Beaux—”

  “I know—”

  “Do you—”

  “I feel it, Paige.”

  God. We were finishing sentences and thoughts, and I pulled away from him, catching my breath with my hands clinging at his shirt. Lifting. Tugging. He moved off me to discard it and then he was back, his hot hand pushing beneath my tank top.

  “I’m not fucking you here,” he said, lips pressing kisses to my throat. He reached my bra, his thumb slid over my nipple, and my entire body trembled from the friction.

  “Please.” I had never begged. I’d do anything to get him to continue doing what he was doing.

  “I need to see you come, though. Need to see you light up for me, you okay with that?”

  Only an idiot would say no, and I had always been a four point oh student. “Please.”

  He pulled me toward him, draping my thighs over his while he bent down and pulled the cups of my bra down. Cool air assaulted my breasts right before hot heat from his mouth covered them. He tortured me with his mouth and his tongue while his hand went to my jeans.

  A button popped.

  A zipper slid down.

  I was already so close, my release making me shake with the need to take over but I fought it back, tried to sear every one of his touches, every delicious moment of this night into my memory banks. Yet, I couldn’t stop moving.

  I was greedy, so damn greedy that when he tugged down my jeans, I helped him, shoving them down as far as they could go.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” Beaux said. “And you taste like heaven.”

  I laughed, gripped his shoulders. “I want to kiss you.”

  He didn’t make me wait. He arched above me, settling some of his weight off my body and then his hand was there, pressing that sweet spot beneath my panties.

  It was glorious.

  His forehead hit mine.
<
br />   “So damn wet. I can’t wait until I can see all of you.”

  “Yes,” I gasped and arched into him. My spine burned like I’d been electrocuted. This was too much. Too fast and too strong and too powerful. The threat of my orgasm hitting me so fiercely terrified me and yet I wasn’t moving away.

  “Oh shit,” I panted. I couldn’t stay still, I couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t breathe him in. I wanted to pull his body to mine, fuse us together and my Lord…when did I think such crazy and asinine things?

  It didn’t matter.

  “Come for me,” Beaux ordered, and then his mouth was on mine again. He continued his ministrations, playing my body perfectly and I couldn’t hold back.

  I cried out, pleasure coursing through me I’d never felt before.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” My words became vowels, consonants too much effort as I clung to him. His shoulders, his back, his arms. I grabbed every small piece of him I could, and it only fueled my desire for more of him.

  “Beautiful,” Beaux crooned, bringing me down from sweet orgasmic bliss. “You’re so damn beautiful when you come, Paige. God, I want you.”

  I wanted him too. Barely catching my breath, I was still panting, still running my hands along his arms to his back. “I might need a minute to recover.”

  He pulled back, cocky grin reappearing. “That good huh? The best, maybe?”

  It had been. I smiled, leaned up and pressed my lips to his. “I want to take care of you.”

  “No way.” He shook his head and leaned off me, fixing my bra and my shirt as he spoke. “Can’t. I get busted for public indecency and I’m fucked, and not in the good way.” As if he just realized it, he looked up, scanned the area. “Thank God no one saw us doing that.”

  A flicker of reality with him niggled at the edges of my mind and I pushed it back. Reality was for tomorrow or later tonight when I was alone and missing him—because I would miss him. Fantasy and now was all we had.

  I pressed my hand to my chest. “I can’t calm my heart. It’s racing.”