“All right,” she said, her heart pounding.
One of his big hands came up behind her knee, coasting up her thighs, traveling a route that had his fingers at the edge of her lace panties before she knew it.
She tilted her hips up to get closer, and he laughed low in his throat. Slowly, torturously, he worked his fingers under the material of her panties.
A harsh groan left him as soon as he touched the most intimate part of her. “Ah hell, sweetness. I didn’t know you’d be so damn wet.”
Her hips started to move against him without her permission, but there was no way she would stop. “I can’t help it.”
“That’s what a man likes to hear.” The tip of his finger entered her, and then the rest, all the way down to the knuckle. She could feel the rest of his fingers, as they brushed against her. Involuntarily, her inner muscles clenched. “And that’s what a man likes to feel. Damn, baby.”
She sought his mouth again, all at once shy and bold. Another finger eased in her, and her head fell back. He licked his way up her throat, and then nuzzled her shoulder.
“That’s it. Show me what you look like when you come,” he said, thrusting his fingers harder and faster. His thumb brushed her clit.
“Ryan,” she cried out, and he did it again.
His fingers seemed to curl and uncurl inside of her, and she nearly came undone. “Found your sweet spot,” he said, triumphantly, like making her wild was his ultimate goal. His number-one play.
She dug her fingers into his wide shoulders, wishing his shirt was off, and that her bare breasts were pressed against his chest. With that in mind, she began to shove up his shirt, but he grabbed her wrist.
“Not happening, sweetness. I have to keep something between us, because I’m not prepared,” he said. “I can’t be inside of you tonight.”
“But you’re already inside of me,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, and it feels fucking amazing.” He pinned her wrist against the cushions. “Ready for more?”
All she could do was nod. His dark eyes glittered, and his face was all harsh planes. He began to move again, his fingers curling and twisting inside of her, while his thumb continued lightly brushing her clit.
He pushed and pushed, not giving her time to recover from each thrust and brush. Suddenly, her body shattered, and she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming.
“Beautiful. So damn beautiful,” he said softly. His fingers continued to stroke her, his thumb circling her clit.
A new wave of pleasure rocked her body. “Ryan,” she choked out, her eyes closing tight.
“I know… let it come to you. I’m here for you.” His voice was dark and promised more pleasure than she could imagine. “You tell me when to stop, gorgeous.”
“Please stop,” she said moments later, after coming for the third time. “I can’t…”
His fingers left her, and he made a humming sound. “Tastes good, baby.” Had he licked his fingers? The thought made her even hotter, and she whimpered. “Next time, I’m going to put my mouth on you and drink down every drop.”
Oh yeah, he’d licked them. Dazed, she could only lay helpless in his arms, as he kissed her and held her close to him. She could feel his erection, hot and huge against her.
“I can take care of you, too,” she whispered, struggling to open her eyes.
He kissed her eyes closed. “All about you, sweetness. All about you.”
Chapter Seven
Ryan repeatedly did burnouts, like a man on a mission. His mission—to work off the amped-up sexual frustration he was currently experiencing, until his arms and legs couldn’t support his weight.
But last night with Ashley had been totally worth putting his needs and wants second. She’d looked so damn good lying in his arms, had felt so right while they talked about their families. When he’d finally made himself leave, she’d given him the sweetest goodnight kiss he’d ever had, almost as if she couldn’t believe what had happened between them, or the fact that he hadn’t expected anything in return.
He had a feeling she wasn’t used to that. She couldn’t be used to that with Dean Clark as her ex.
The selfish bastard.
Then again, Ryan wasn’t used to a woman like Ashley. Hell, he didn’t know exactly what he was doing with her. Sure, he was attracted to her, and he enjoyed spending time with her. But, beyond that… he hadn’t allowed himself to think that far ahead.
Ashley, even without her asshole of an ex, struck him as the type of woman who wanted more than just a couple of dates. Well, more than a couple of dates with a football player.
His arms gave out, and the weights crashed to the floor.
“What did the weights do to you, man?” his teammate, Marco, asked.
“Nothing. Just got a lot on my mind.”
“I heard you were thinking about leaving.”
Damn locker room gossips. “You did? Huh. Maybe you could tell me what I’m thinking right now.”
“That it’s a pretty sweet deal to be a free agent.”
As a free agent, he could keep playing for the Avengers while considering other contracts. Dallas had been courting him. Hard. “There are pros and cons to it. You thinking about joining the dark side?”
“Maybe.”
That was Marco. All poking his nose into everything while keeping his own mouth shut.
“Let me know if you want to talk sometime.”
Marco nodded and then resumed doing crunches. “Later, Turner.”
“Later.” Ryan made his way to the shower room, passing a few reporters on the way.
“Heard there’s a new woman you’ve been seeing,” one called out to him.
“Considering women make up fifty-one percent of the population, the odds are in both our favors that happened.”
The reporters laughed, and he flashed them his signature smile so they could get a photo or two.
Usually, his humor kept them happy. He gave just enough to them that they could spin it, but not enough to have substance. Despite the popularity of the franchise in the city, the Braves were covered more. But nothing got the newspapers going like a political scandal.
And nothing got him going like thinking about that firecracker of a redhead. After he showered and changed, Ryan headed out to his truck and waited until he was on I-20 before he called her.
“Hey,” came her sweet voice. “What’s up?” She sounded a little out of breath.
“Is this a good time?”
“Not really.”
“You sound winded.”
“That’s because I’ve been chasing Bluebelle all over the yard,” she said.
He smiled. “What did she do?”
“That dog… what didn’t she do?” Ashley blew out a breath. “She dug up my flowerbeds, tore the cushions off my patio furniture, and ate my clothes not worth mentioning.”
“Not worth mentioning?” he asked, trying to figure out what she meant.
“You know… unmentionables.” She sighed thickly. “Panties, Ryan. The dang dog went into my dirty laundry and ate five pairs of panties.”
He could stop himself from laughing. “That’s damn funny.”
“Only because she didn’t eat your panties.”
“Honey, if she’d been eating my panties, we would be having a whole other conversation right now.”
Ashley huffed. “Fine. If Gunner had eaten your man panties, you’d be pissed.”
“I don’t wear man panties either.”
“You know what I mean, Ryan Shea Turner,” she growled into the phone.
Yeah, he did, but he couldn’t resist teasing her a little more, especially since she was going all southern on him. Only his momma called him by his full name, and that was only when she was pissed.
“I don’t wear anything at all under my jeans, sweetness.”
She whimpered. Before he could check to see if she was truly upset at his making light of the destruction Bluebelle caused, his dick got hard. So much for
working out his sexual frustrations.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said.
“I know you’re trying to be funny and sexy, but it’s my turn to host book club. Today. Like in four hours. I need to impress these women because I recommended a romance novel instead of literary fiction. They kinda turned up their noses at it. So, everything has to be perfect, but now it’s not, and I can’t get ahold of my brothers.” She sounded on the verge of tears. Frustrated tears.
Damn it.
“What about your dad?” He could go help her, but she hadn’t asked him to. She had her pride, just like him.
“He’s on a cruise with my momma.” She sighed thickly. “I need to let you go. I have so much to do, and no one to help me.”
And there was his opening. Just as he opened his mouth to say he’d be right over to help, she hung up on him.
“Shit,” he muttered.
Taking a deep breath, Ashley surveyed the damaged Bluebelle had caused and considered where she would start first. The cushions had to be replaced. So, that was an easy fix. Although, she didn’t know if that pattern was still available.
But the yard… topsoil was everywhere. Flowers lay lifeless in haphazard piles. The dang dog had dug up almost everything. In fact, now that she could take a moment, she realized just how much damage Bluebelle had caused.
She glanced down at the dirt-covered dog and frowned. “You’ve been so good. I don’t know why you’d do this to me.”
Bluebelle hung her head, and Ashley’s heart flipped. While she was upset, she couldn’t stay pissed over things that could be fixed. Bluebelle hadn’t actually hurt anyone.
The doorbell rang.
She dusted her hands off on her formerly pristine white capri pants. The matching boat-neck, blue-and-white striped shirt hadn’t fared much better. Her hair half hung in her face, and she was sweating, instead of glistening like a proper southern woman should.
An ominous crack made her wince, and then hop the rest of the way to the door. She answered it, half stooped over and clutching at the broken heel of her shoe, and found Ryan on the other side.
One part of her practically melted, while the other wanted to hobble off in the other direction because looking like what the dog dragged around the yard was not her idea of how to answer the door.
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
She almost hugged him right then and there for not commenting on her appearance. Instead, she shoved her hair out of her face and said, “Everything.”
“First things first. Do you have any crazy glue?” He stepped inside, closed the door, and then helped her to the couch.
“In my office. There’s a box marked art supplies.” Why in the world would he need her crazy glue? Did Ryan think he could glue her cushions back together?
“Stay right there.” He strode away, down her hall.
She heard him rummaging around. When he returned less than a minute later, with the glue in his hand, she couldn’t help but ask, “What are you going to do with that?”
He knelt on the floor and took her shoe. “This.” He squirted glue on the heel and held it firmly against the bottom. “In a few minutes, this very sexy shoe will be as good as new,” he said with a wink.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Oh geez, if she wasn’t falling for him before, she really was now. First, the donation, and now he was repairing one of her favorite heels.
“Four sisters, remember?” His gaze raked over her. “The glue won’t help those dirt stains. Sorry.”
Giving him a lopsided smile, she cupped the side of his face. “I’m already feeling better.”
“I hear good-as-new shoes tend to do that to women.” His dark eyes met her, and lashes longer and thicker than any man had a right to have slowly blinked. Gosh, she could stare at him for days.
“Especially this woman. Shoes are one of my weaknesses.” So was he. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had soft, full lips that could turn wicked and sensual… and drive her insane.
“You keep looking at me like that, and we won’t get a damn thing done, sweetness,” he said, and she started, dropping her hand.
Her cheeks heated, as she lifted a shoulder and bit her lip. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I like looking at you.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up, and he stood. “Okay if I put this on your kitchen counter?”
She nodded and took off her other shoe. “C’mon, I’ll show you the backyard.”
“Is that where Bluebelle’s hiding?” he asked as he moved to the kitchen.
Ashley followed a moment later. “She’s in time-out.”
“You’re not grounding her from her play date with Gunner, are you?” he asked.
“The thought had crossed my mind,” she joked.
He cast a look over one of his broad shoulders, and then turned to face her. “You’d just be punishing yourself.”
She crossed her arms and tilted her chin up. “Just myself?”
Ryan moved closer, settling his hands on her hips. Despite having a large kitchen, it felt tiny with him in it. Or maybe it was his presence that took up so much room. His head dipped, and her chest rose and fell.
He was going to kiss her again. She wanted him to kiss her again. The air between them became shared, and she breathed in the masculine scent from him. His hair was slightly damp, and his cheeks were smooth.
Ryan turned his head slightly, so that his breath pulsed against her ear and jaw. She shivered. This was pure, delicious torture.
“Nah, Gunner wouldn’t be too happy.” Slowly, his lips grazed her cheek, his nose following the path. Once more, his hot breath was on her, and she felt him nibble on the lobe of her ear. “Show me the backyard,” he whispered roughly.
She blinked. “What?”
He stepped back, the color along his cheeks high and his nostrils flaring. “I came here to help you.”
Ryan was right. He had showed up to help her, not put an end to her draught, or change her mind about football players. Although, he was doing a great job.
With a sniff, she let out a huff and brushed past him. “Right this way, Mr. Tight End.”
Chapter Eight
After a quick trip to the local lawn and garden supply store to buy more topsoil, flowers, and cushions, they worked together in her backyard.
She had changed, and was currently elbow deep in her flowerbed, while Ryan shoveled in topsoil.
His dark shadow fell over her, and she looked up. Her mouth fell open, and the small shovel dropped with a thunk. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips. She eyed the eight-pack that glistened in the sun, and the smattering of dark hair that covered his muscular chest and his equally muscular arms. Most lickable of all was the tattoo of an anchor on his hip.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
“Why don’t you get a shower and change before it gets too late? I’ll finish this up for you,” he said, holding out his hand.
She almost knocked it out the way because the darn thing obstructed her view. But common sense told her to take it. They’d been working for hours, and she had to get ready to host.
Taking his hand, she let him help her up. He brushed a finger down her nose. “You have dirt everywhere.”
She wiped at his chest, pleased to see his stomach suck in. “So do you.”
“Shower.”
Taking a chance, she drew in a deep breath. “You could join me. I need some helping washing my back.”
His eyes went wide but, before she could get too excited, he was saying, “Ashley, I meant what I said earlier; I’m here to help. You don’t owe me anything.”
Embarrassment and anger collided, causing her to lash out. “I know what you’re here for! You’re here to make sure your dog can see his girlfriend and to ease your conscience about blackmailing me into going out with you. So, thanks for saving me, once again, from making a big mistake.”
Angry tears springing to her eyes, she stormed inside
the house and slammed the door behind her.
Seething inside, Ryan finished planting the last of the flowers and placed all the supplies in the storage shed. He wasn’t mad at Ashley. He was mad at himself. It was like he couldn’t help the dumbass things that came out of his mouth, all in the name of putting her first.
Bluebelle trotted up to him from her spot in the shade and licked his hand. With a smile, he knelt down to rub her neck.
“How ya doing, girl?” he asked. “Thirsty?”
The dog wagged her tail. He led her inside, filling up her bowl with more fresh water and setting it on the floor.
He could hear the shower running and could imagine Ashley in it, her hot little body all soapy and wet. He could picture the suds running down her neck and over her breasts to drip from her nipples.
Groaning, he bent over the counter and tried to get his shit together.
She was right. He was trying to ease his conscience about blackmailing her. No matter what she said to him, all he could think of was how he got her to go out with him in the first place.
Yet, she’d forgiven him of all that. She’d practically thrown herself at him, when he knew how much she didn’t trust football players. Dean had done a number on her, yet she had taken a chance on him.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and then straightened, cursing himself for a fool.
Ashley was a woman with her own mind. She’d invited him to join her in the shower. And by God, he would join her.
He jogged down the hallway to her bedroom, opening the bathroom door. Steam billowed, but he could clearly see her through the glass shower.
“Ryan?” Ashley asked, her eyes wide.
“Yeah,” he said, stripping down to his bare ass. He opened the door. “Still need someone to wash your back?”
Visibly swallowing, her gaze ran the length of him, pausing more than once at his cock. He grabbed it, his mouth quirking at the corner, and stroked himself.
“See anything you like?”
Grabbing him by the arm, she pulled him inside the shower and shut the door. “Keep doing that,” she murmured.
Game For Love: All The Right Moves (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4