Play With Me (With Me In Seattle)

by Proby, Kristen

  I love you too.

  Why am I so fucking afraid to say it?

  Chapter Sixteen

  ~Will~

  I could lie here all day and watch her sleep. God, she’s so fucking beautiful. She is all gold skin and auburn hair against crisp white sheets. Her delicate face is soft in sleep, and little pink lips are slightly parted.

  This week has been the best of my life. Hell, the month or so we’ve been together has been the best of my life, and that’s saying a lot because I know that I am one lucky son of a bitch.

  But Meg makes everything incredible. She’s funny and smart and so damn talented.

  And she’s asleep, in this bed, with me. It’s our last morning in New Orleans, and I must admit I regret that it’s over so quickly. I’ll be sure to take her away again as soon as the season ends. We’ll go to Europe, or Hawaii.

  Fuck, anywhere she wants.

  It’s been fun to watch her enjoy the amazing music of this city, the sounds and smells, the uniqueness that is New Orleans.

  And I think it’s effing adorable to watch her eat beignets. Speaking of, I check the clock. I’m expecting a delivery in about ten minutes.

  Meg stirs in her sleep, raises one arm up over her head, causing the sheet to slide down her body and expose one perfect breast, the nipple tight from being exposed to the cool air. Her beautiful auburn and blonde hair is fanned around her on her white pillow, and one knee is bent, laying against the bed.

  Which means I could slip my hand between her thighs and wake her with my fingers inside her, but I wait. I want to watch her for a few more minutes.

  I knew that I’d fall in love eventually. That I’d end up meeting a nice girl and we’d get married and have a few kids and a good life together.

  But I had no idea that I could love someone so much that it absolutely consumes me. That being away from her for merely hours makes me want to punch someone in the face and the thought of anyone ever hurting her in any way just makes me completely nuts.

  I would kill for this woman.

  Or die.

  I wasn’t kidding when I said she’s everything. She is.

  At the light knock on the door I roll out of bed, pull on yesterday’s shorts and answer the door. I tip the delivery kid from Café Du Monde and carry the big bag of beignets and carrier of coffee to the bedside table, set it down, strip out of my shorts and climb back onto the bed.

  She hasn’t moved a muscle.

  My little lazy bones. Funny thing is, she’s the least lazy person I’ve ever known. She works tirelessly, and is always moving.

  I love it when she’s moving beneath me.

  With this in mind, I lean on my elbow near her head and lean down to kiss her cheek.

  “Megan, wake up,” I croon softly to her and brush little wisps of hair off her neck.

  “Hmph,” she answers with a moan and turns away from me.

  “C’mon, lazy bones, wake up.” I plant little kisses on her bare shoulder and upper arm and slide my hand over her stomach and up to her breast, cupping it in my hand while I worry the nipple between my fingers.

  I can’t get enough of her soft skin.

  “I’m sleepy,” she murmurs and turns toward me, burrowing against me and settle in to sleep with her forehead pressed to my chest.

  Fuck, she’s adorable.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  “You do?” she asks, not moving.

  “Yep, but you have to wake up to get it.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  Stubborn woman.

  “Okay.” I back away and open the paper bag full of fresh, hot donuts, take one out and turn back to her. Her eyes are still closed.

  I shake it over her shoulder, dropping powdered sugar on her skin and lean down and lick it off.

  “Mmm,” I groan. “Good stuff.”

  No response.

  So I shake some more over her neck and dive after it, lapping it up.

  She opens one eye, briefly, then snaps it shut quickly. I grin and pull the sheet down to her waist, exposing her perfect little body, and shake more sugar over her breasts.

  I lick it up and then take a big bite of the beignet. “Open your mouth,” I instruct her, and she complies readily. I chuckle as I feed her the remaining portion of the fried dough, then dive in the bag for another and continue to shake the sugar on her delectable body, then eat the beignet, sharing pieces with her.

  “I think you’ll need to be my plate more often, babe. You make everything taste sweeter.”

  “Cheeky bastard,” she mumbles sleepily and I laugh out loud.

  Grabbing a fresh donut, I move between her legs, shoulder her thighs wide apart and settle in for some fun.

  Fuck, she’s already wet. Sleepy my ass. She’s playing with me.

  God, I love her.

  I shake some sugar over her pussy and watch it fall like snow on her pink flesh. Her clit is hard, that silver piercing just begging for my tongue. So I lean forward and lick her, from her soft folds to that warm metal, and all around, licking up every last bit of sugar, then take a bite of donut. I look up at her face and her eyes are open now, watching me, her gorgeous hazel eyes shining in lust, hands fisting the sheets. I offer her the donut, and she takes it from me and flings it over the side of the bed, licks her fingers and plunges them into my hair with a huge grin on her gorgeous face.

  “Didn’t want anymore?” I ask sarcastically.

  “I’ve had enough of those.”

  “Me too. But I haven’t had enough of this.” I spread her with my thumbs, opening her up to me and kiss her, plunging my tongue inside her and licking all around. Her hips buck up against my face, but I hold her firmly, not letting her twist away.

  She goes fucking crazy when I eat her out. It’s the sexiest damn shit I’ve ever seen.

  Replacing my mouth with my hands, I move up to tease her clit, not flicking at it, but lapping at it, pushing it, and tugging, ever so gently, that silver with my teeth.

  “Will!” she cries and bucks again. I push my fingers down, then pull them out and lick them.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Need you in me.”

  “I’ve been in you sweetheart.” I push my fingers back in to prove my point, making her moan.

  “Come up here,” she pants.

  “What do you need?” I ask and brush her clit with my nose, making her squirm and me smile.

  “You. Always you.”

  “Fuck yes, me.” I climb up her body and lay over her. She cradles me against her, her strong legs wrapped around my waist, arms around my shoulders and fingers in my hair and I just lean on my elbows and gaze down at her.

  “You are so fucking incredible, Megan.”

  Her eyelids droop, and she blushes like she does when she’s happy. I brush my lips over hers and slide my cock through her wetness, pushing her piercing with the tip and she bites my lower lip.

  “Like that?”

  “Mmm.” She nods slightly and cups my ass with her hands, tugging me closer to her. God, I want to be inside her.

  I need to be inside her.

  I rear back and slowly push through the wetness, through her swollen folds, and sink in until I feel her resistence.

  She’s so damn tight.

  “This is my favorite place to be,” I whisper to her and feel her smile against my neck.

  “It’s the top of my list too,” she whispers back.

  And slowly, we begin to move. Everything in me is telling me to fuck the shit out of her, to pound her and mark her until I’m all she sees, and all she knows. All she remembers.

  But on this sticky, sweet morning, all I want is to go slow. To be gentle with her. To memorize every sigh, every moan, every tightening of her muscles as she holds me to her.

  I just want to make love to my girl.

  And so I do, until she’s writhing and shuddering, and I feel those sweet muscles around my cock tighten like a fucking vice.

  “Let go, babe,”
I whisper and watch avidly as she tightens, every muscle in her delectable body clenching and pulsing around me, and cries out my name as she explodes.

  I can’t hold it in any longer, and I empty myself into her as she continues to move and shudder, my face pressed to her neck, telling her how much I love her.

  It hurts, just a little, that she can’t say it back yet. But she will.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ~Meg~

  “I had a great time this week.” I am snuggled up to Will’s side in our cab on the way to my place from the airport. The Seattle evening is rainy and dark. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me, babe.” He kisses my hair and tightens the arm around my shoulders. “I had fun too. We’ll go again soon.”

  “It’s a date.”

  “Why don’t you just come back to my place with me?” he asks for the third time, making me chuckle.

  “Because I need to unpack, do some laundry and get ready to go back to work. And so do you.”

  “I could stay at your place with you. If you don’t mind my dirty underwear being washed with yours.” I hear the humor in his voice and lean back to look up into his handsome face.

  “You’re always welcome at my place.” I plant a kiss on his cheek and lean my head on his shoulder again. “I need to make you a key.”

  He smiles against my hair and kisses me again as I see my townhouse come into view.

  And the woman sitting on my steps.

  Fuck me!

  “Shit.”

  “Who is that?” Will asks as I pull out of his arms.

  “Sylvia.”

  “Fuck,” he whispers.

  “Exactly.”

  I jump out of the car as Will throws bills at the cab driver and stalk angrily up to the beaten down, trashy woman smirking at me on the stairs.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You hung up on me, so I thought I’d just come talk to you in person. What, you’re not happy to see mommy dearest?”

  “Get the fuck off my property.”

  “That’s no way to speak to your mother.” Her eyes flash as she stands and the sight of her makes me sick. She’s too thin, about my height. Her auburn hair is full of gray, hazel eyes are dull and her skin is ashy. Her old clothes hang on her slight frame. At one time, she’d been really pretty.

  Now she just looks old and worn. And she’s not even fifty yet. My stomach rolls.

  “You know you’re not welcome here.” I tell her, my voice strong, arms crossed over my chest, ignoring the rain falling on me.

  “So this is your new young man.” Her lips spread in what she considers her flirty smile, but her teeth are yellow, and she just looks… pathetic. “Hi there.”

  Will is standing behind me now, his hands on my shoulders, showing me his support and I’ve never been more thankful for him.

  “I believe Megan asked you to leave.” His voice is hard and firm.

  Her smile disappears and is replaced with a cold sneer. “I’m not leaving until I get more money out of this ungrateful little bitch.”

  “I told you…”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you told me. You owe me! I want what’s mine!” She marches down the stairs to get in my face, but Will pulls me aside and steps in front of me, looking down at Sylvia with fire in his eyes.

  “She doesn’t owe you anything. She asked you to leave. Don’t make me call the cops.” His voice is low and pissed, and Sylvia takes a step back, her eyes wide and stunned.

  Did she really think she could just show up here and leave with a pocket full of money?

  Yes.

  Because I always give in to her. No matter how ashamed I feel later, I always give in.

  No more.

  “Go back to Montana, Sylvia. You wasted your time coming here.” I mutter angrily as I link my hand with Will’s. He squeezes my hand reassuringly.

  “I don’t have any money!” she whines.

  “Not my problem. I sent you money.”

  “Not enough,” she spits out.

  “It’s the last you’ll get from me.” My voice is low now, and firm. Her eyes register surprise again, and then they narrow on my face with such hatred I take a step backward. Will frowns down at me and squeezes my hand again.

  “You’ll send it. You know what will happen if you don’t. I’ll go to the press and tell them all about the big football star’s new girlfriend. What a piece of trash she is. Where she comes from.” Sylvia sneers at me. “Won’t that be great publicity for him?”

  “Call the police,” Will states calmly and Sylvia’s jaw drops.

  “I’ll go to the press…”

  “Go to the press. Go anywhere you want, as long as it’s not here. I don’t give a shit what you say. Megan is not trash, she just comes from it.” I gape up at him, as Sylvia gasps at the insult. “You can’t hurt her. She’s told you to leave, now leave.”

  She looks at me, her mouth set in a grim line. “Fine.”

  She marches down to the ancient Honda parked at the curb and then looks back at me. “You always were a worthless piece of shit.”

  “Get the fuck out!” Will yells, cutting her off. She jumps in her car and speeds away.

  I can’t move. I just stand here, in the rain, hugging myself and watch her car disappear down the street.

  “Look at me.”

  I’m too ashamed. Jesus, what must he think of me now? I bury my face in my hands and will the tears back.

  Crying won’t solve anything.

  “Just go, Will.”

  “Look at me,” he repeats, his hands on my shoulders now. “Megan, stop. Look at me.”

  I look up into his eyes, still so embarrassed.

  “I’m so sorry…”

  “Shh.” He shakes his head and hugs me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pinning my arms against his chest, and I’ve never felt so safe. “I’m sorry she’s so horrible.”

  “I meant it,” I mumble against him. “I’m not sending her any more money.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “You’re not either. She will ask you.”

  “Hmm,” he murmurs, non-committally.

  “I mean it.”

  “Okay. Let’s go inside.” He picks up our bags and leads me in the house, disarming the alarm.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t try to break in and wait for me in the house,” I comment. That’s her usual M.O.

  “She must have seen the alarm. See? I told you you needed an alarm.” He offers me a smug smile and my chest loosens. I don’t want to think about Sylvia anymore. She can’t hurt me.

  I snicker as he turns his back to me to pick our bags up and take them upstairs. “Yes, you were right.”

  “What did you say?” he asks sarcastically.

  “You’re handsome,” I reply with a grin.

  “No, that’s not what you said,”

  “I like your shirt?”

  “Nope.” He sets the bags down and slowly saunters to me, his eyes narrowed and a smile tickling his lips. “Tell me.”

  “Um… I think we should order dinner in?”

  He laughs now, full-out, and the knot in my stomach from seeing Sylvia on my doorstep is gone.

  “I think you said something about me being right.”

  “Did not,” I scoff.

  “Did too.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I reply and shake my head. “You must be thinking of someone else.”

  “No, you’re the only beautiful, smart-mouthed woman on my mind these days.”

  “Gee, that’s so good to hear,” I reply sarcastically and he sweeps in and throws me over his shoulder, heading for the stairs.

  “Hey! Our luggage!”

  “We’ll get it later. I think I need to teach you a lesson.”

  “What kind of lesson?” I look down at his firm, tight ass and give it a little smack, just because I can.

  He smacks mine back, making me yelp.

  “The fun kind.
”

  I smile and brace myself on his lean hips as he easily climbs the stairs.

  God, I love him.

  * * *

  “So, you’re playing Arizona next Sunday?” I ask from my spot on the couch. Will taught me my lesson. I think I may need more lessons like that in the future. I’m a slow learner. Then we ordered in dinner, and now we’re on the couch, watching football.

  Well, Will is watching football. I’m about to paint my toenails.

  “Yes.”

  “At home?” I ask casually.

  “Yes,” he smiles at me. “And after the game, the whole family is going to my mom and dad’s for dinner. It’ll probably be the last weekend this year that we can still enjoy their backyard.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want you there.”

  It isn’t a request, and makes me smile. I want to be there.

  “Okay,” I say again. Will nods and goes back to watching his game, that being settled.

  I shake my red nail polish and pull my right foot up onto the couch, my heel tucked against my ass, and buff my toenails, then open the polish. Before I can swipe the brush down my toenail, Will interrupts me.

  “Can I do that?”

  My head whips up to meet his eyes, surprised. “What?”

  “I want to do that.”

  “Why?”

  He just shrugs and smiles as he slides across the couch, pulls my foot into his lap, causing me to turn so my back is against the armrest, and holds his hand out, waiting for me to hand over the polish.

  “Are you sure?”

  He just raises an eyebrow at me, that cocky smile still on his lips, and I hand the polish to him.

  “It’s not as easy as it looks, you know.”

  “I’m quite sure I can do it.”

  “I thought you were watching football.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I shake my head and settle back against the soft cushion, arms folded over my belly and watch his dark blonde head bow over my foot, his big hand holding the polish wand over the toes, and methodically paints each toe.

  Miraculously, he doesn’t end up painting my skin.