Fair Game: A Football Romance (24 page)

I turn, and she drags her hand around my bicep as I do so.

“Am I okay? Are you okay? I threw that imbecile out earlier for doing the same thing to a little girl. He’s lucky I didn’t smash his face in.”

“A little girl, really? That’s horrible.”

She shivers and shakes her head in disbelief. Her hand drops from my arm, and I instantly miss the warmth and pressure of it.

“Come with me. I need a shirt,” I say, taking her hand and leading her to the rear of my open SUV.

“Why are you out here anyway?” I ask.

“I—I’m not really sure.”

She stares at the hatch door that’s standing open and then at the custom dresser, but I don’t think she’s really seeing anything. She’s still in shock. I take a shirt from the drawer and cringe at the thought of putting something on that hasn’t been freshly pressed. I slide my arms in and button up quickly so I can get her back inside.

“You … left your car open,” she says, sounding a little dazed and confused.

“Yes, I had to. You were in trouble.”

“And you have a . . . built-in dresser in there?” she asks, nodding toward my vehicle.

“Yes, I do. Are you sure you’re okay, Violet?”

“Yeah, that’s just really . . . weird.” She waves her finger in a circle in the air toward my dresser.

“Not really. I told you I carry extra clothes in case of an emergency.”

“If you have enough emergencies to require a built-in dresser in your trunk, then you have too many emergencies,” she says with her hand on her hip. Her sexy sassiness is back. She must be over the shock.

A couple walks by, watching me button my shirt and listening to Violet scold me. Violet notices she’s lost my attention and turns to see what I’m looking at.

“Good evening,” she says in a sweet voice, and the couple looks away, embarrassed to be caught staring. Sassy
and
saucy. I love it.

“Aren’t you shaken up by that creep?” I ask when she turns her attention back to me.

“No, should I be?”

“Yes. He could have attacked you.”

“Major Steele, my daddy was a Marine, and so is my brother. Believe me, they taught me to grab balls and scream. I was more afraid you were going to kill him.”

“You’re from a military family?”

“A Marine family, yes.”

“So you didn’t need me back there?” I say, closing the back of the SUV and pressing the lock on my key fob.

“Oh, I appreciate the help. He was nasty. I didn’t want to have to squeeze his nuts off, but I would have if you hadn’t been here.”

I laugh when I realize she’s not a damsel in distress. Damn it.

“Well, I’m happy I was of assistance to you then. I’m sorry I almost killed a man in front of you, though,” I say with a wink.

“Apology accepted.”

“So why did you really come outside?”

She looks away from me, but I catch her hand and stop walking.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to see if you were leaving.” She chews on the inside of her cheek and pretends to watch a car going by.

“Why would I leave?”

She shrugs and continues to avoid eye contact. I don’t want to push it, so I let it drop.

“I’m not leaving. I told you, I’m a man of my word. Now come on, let’s go inside.”

I let go of her hand and slide my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side. She fits perfectly tucked under my arm, and she feels good there as we walk back into the restaurant.

When we return, our drinks are waiting on the bar and she makes no attempt to leave with them. If she’s here on a date, I pity the man who orders a red velvet martini and allows a woman like this out of his sight. She’s got to be here with girlfriends.

“I’ll help you with your drinks,” I say, scooping up the martinis.

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I can make it on my own as long as no wild dancers butt in front of me and knock them out of my hands again.” She smiles a sly smile, and I bite my tongue to keep from arguing with her about it. She obviously ran into us. We were on the dance floor dancing, which is what you do on a dance floor. She was cutting across to save a few steps, plain and simple.

“Which way?” I ask, holding up the drinks. She hitches her thumb to the right.

“It was nice to meet you both,” she says to Davis and Garcia.

“Likewise,” both men reply, nodding their heads.

She slides past me to get out of the tight corner space and brushes her round ass against my cock. I swear, I see the hint of a smile on her lips. I’m going to enjoy wiping that smile off her pretty face later when she’s screaming my name under me in a sweaty mess of tangled sheets.

Chapter four

Violet

Color Coded

I allowed this stubborn man remove my shirt and touch me. Did somebody drop me on my head when I was a baby? I mean, the attraction is undeniable, but still, that’s not how one-night stands go. If that’s what this is. What is this, anyway? And coming to my rescue outside—very gallant but very unnecessary. I can handle myself. It was cute, though, and worth it to see him without a shirt. Now we’re even.

It’s strange that we would bump into each other—literally—twice in the same day. And Mom was right about him being a Marine
and
being hot. This Major is incredibly self-confident. There is no question about who is in control when I’m around him. He oozes sex appeal with his lean muscles and his tanned, clean-shaven square jaw. His tight ass isn’t hard to look at either. In fact, I have half a notion to point him in the wrong direction so he takes the long route to our table, but I don’t. Why is that?

Major Steele could be the guy on the Marine posters that say
The Few. The Proud. The Marines.

When he’s almost to the wedding party’s table, I tap him on the shoulder and point to my large group of friends and family.

“Hey, Vie! We were getting ready to send out a rescue party,” Mattie yells, and then he adds, “Who is your friend?”

“This is Major Steele. We had a little run-in on the dance floor and he insisted on helping me carry my drinks.

“Again? That’s not a coincidence. That’s fate, you two,” Mom calls from the end of the table.

Taye stands up and offers his hand to Major when I introduce him as
Major
Steele.

“It’s nice to meet you, Major Steele, sir.”

Sawyer shakes his hand, and the other Marines in the group follow suit until everyone has been properly greeted.

“So you two have met before?” Taye asks after offering the Major a seat.

“We found each other at Target this afternoon,” Major says, emphasizing the word
found
.

“He ran into me and made me drop all my stuff,” I say as we sit down next to each other. I wait for him to take the bait, but he surprises me with an apology instead.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sorry about that.”

“He’s just being nice. Vie ran smack into him in the aisle, and her razors and soap went flying all over the place,” Mom yells. She’s drunk. I’m thinking someone should cut her off, but unfortunately, I’ve just brought her another red velvet martini, so scratch that idea. I hope I won’t be holding her hair later while she hurls into the hotel toilet.

The waitress appears out of nowhere and takes orders for another round of drinks. When she returns, she addresses Major as Major Steele and adjusts his glass in a very specific location, two inches above the tips of his fingers and to the right. It’s clear they have an unspoken communication going on when she places the glass down and she indiscreetly looks back and forth between the glass and Major several times until he nods. I guess she got it right. How unusual.

“Your organizational skills didn’t go unnoticed, by the way. I don’t know how you categorized and color-coded my things in two seconds,” I say.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Major Steele places his hand on my knee under the table, and I am genuinely embarrassed at how fast I uncross my legs and allow him to slide his rough palm further up my thigh.

My insides started buzzing the second we collided on the dance floor. And then in the bathroom, he set my skin on fire when he touched me. Now he’s playing with my mind, being polite and sweet while turning on a hot faucet between my legs under the table.

I try to follow along with the different conversations. I even throw a word or two in once in a while when it seems appropriate, but my thoughts are completely focused on his hand between my legs. His fingers caress the inside of my thigh, his thumb moving lazily back and forth across my skin—all of it has me in a trance.

I hear Taye’s voice ask a question, but I don’t know whom it’s directed to or exactly what he’s said until all eyes are on me.

“I’m sorry, Taye, what did you ask?”

He chuckles and Major smiles. He knows I can’t answer, because his fingers just got dangerously close to my damp panties and I have my hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going any further. He has me so turned on, it wouldn’t take much to make me come right here at the table.

“I asked if you were going to bring Major Steele to the wedding as your date. You two really seem to like each other,” he says, shifting his eyes to my lap and back to mine so quickly no one else would have noticed . . . no one but Major, and he’s loving this.

“Oh, well uh . . . I don’t know. We just met and all. He probably doesn’t want to go to a wedding where he doesn’t know anybody, including the bride and groom.”

“Not true. He’s a Marine. We’re family, and it’s a military wedding. I’m sure he knows a lot of people who will be there.”

Taye smiles triumphantly and everybody at the table agrees with him. I’m basically obligated to ask him to the wedding now. I slide his hand off my lap and lace my fingers through his to keep him from moving it back. When I turn to ask him to the wedding, the look on his face is smug. I wouldn’t be surprised if a feather came floating from his lips. This man looks like the cat that ate the canary.

“Would you like to accompany me to my brother’s best friend’s wedding this upcoming Saturday?” I ask with sugary sweetness.

“I would love to,” he answers, and the table erupts into a chorus of whoops and hollers.

He leans close to me, nuzzling into my hair, and says, “They love me.”

Cocky bastard.

Chapter Five

Major

Brick Walls

I’m not sure why I just agreed to go to a wedding with a woman I hardly know. This was supposed to be a hot night of string-free sex, and now I’ve purposely tied a string to Violet. I like her. I like her a lot, and that concerns me. Going to a family function is usually a sixth or seventh date kind of event, and we haven’t even had a first. Not to mention that I don’t date anymore. I have sex with women and that’s it. I don’t want anything permanent, and as soon as Violet gets to know me, she won’t either.

I could have easily said no. I could have used the excuse that she claimed I would, but I didn’t want to. We haven’t slept together, but I know it’s going to be nothing short of spectacular. Just having my hand between her warm, soft legs has me on edge. There is but a thin thread of control keeping me from throwing this ravishing beauty over my shoulder and dragging her to the nearest hotel.

These people are all chatting about golf and rehearsals and telling stories about their childhood, and I’m trying to pay attention, but like my cock straining against my zipper, it’s hard. The further my hand creeps up her thigh, the more I think of how it’s going to feel when I slide inside of her hot, wet pussy. I want to hear her moan when I push in deep. I want to taste every inch of her inside and out. Every dip and curve of her sexy body needs exploring.

Fuck, we need to get out of here. Sadly, she moved my hand away from the hot spot I was about to tease when her family and friends were focused on us. Now that they’ve paired us up, they’ve gone back to drinking and talking about the upcoming week of wedding events. It’s the perfect time for us to slip out.

“Violet?” I whisper in her ear, interrupting her conversation with a loud, entertaining woman across the table. When she looks at me, I know it’s not going to take any convincing to get her out of here. She has bedroom eyes, the eyes that say
I’m ready. I want you to take me home.

Home—I don’t take women home, but something about this woman makes me want her in familiar surroundings. Hotels are naked, unemotional cubicles meant for something temporary, something disposable. I’ve known Violet for all of an hour, but she doesn’t feel temporary or disposable. She feels comfortable and lasting.

“We need to leave,” I say, and she simply nods her head. I start to scoot out of the booth, but she squeezes and releases my hand. When I look back, she’s texting. Hopefully, she’s telling someone she’s leaving and won’t be back. When she’s finished, we slide out of the booth and she tells the group we are going to dance. We are going to dance—just not vertically and not here.

Just outside, she pauses and I feel tension rolling off her in waves. Right here, with the smell of the ocean thick in the air and the dark night folding in on us, I know it’s do or die time. I take her hand and lead her around the corner to a short alley and back her against the brick wall of the restaurant. I place my hands on either side of her head against the wall and cage her in. Her breath hitches, and I move in to cover her mouth with mine. She’s not leaving me. There will be no changing of minds. I’ll fix her with a voodoo spell if I have to, but I know I won’t.

When my mouth touches hers, I kiss her once softly before sliding my tongue out and along her bottom lip. She tastes like cake and alcohol. Red velvet martinis are fast becoming my favorite drink. Her skin smells of lavender—not the perfumed sort of lavender, but pure lavender like essential oils. Now there’s a thought. Oils.

Her hands have been pressed against the wall, but now she’s untucking my freshly changed shirt. I press my tongue against her soft, full lips and she allows me in. Our tongues dance and tangle until we’re out of breath. Our mouths open, but our lips never separate. Gasping and panting, her hands find their way into my shirt and up my back, pulling me against her body. Threading one hand into her hair behind her neck and the other down to the small of her back, I pull her against my solid cock and grind it into her abdomen. She gasps and dives back into our mind-numbing kiss, her nails digging into my back as I rhythmically push against her until I slide my hand down and pull her leg up around my waist so my cock is flush against her apex.

She surprises me by bracing herself against the wall and lifting her other leg to circle my waist. Her skirt is hiked up, and the only things separating us now are the thin material of her panties and the zipper of my pants. I pull away to look at her so she knows how fucking turned on that last little move made me, and I’m disarmed by her eager, flushed face. She’s so open and free. She hides nothing and offers everything. Her body and her emotions are exposed in such a rare way that it almost makes me feel guilty for wanting her . . . almost.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Violet. I think I’ve found my new favorite thing.”

One corner of her mouth lifts in a tiny smirk and I kiss her again, deeper, longer, and with more passion than I’ve felt in years. I slide my hand from the back of her knee to underneath her skirt and between our heated bodies and find her soaking wet for me.

“Fuck,” I moan between kisses. She inhales sharply when I push the strip of material aside and slip two long fingers inside her.

“I wanted to do this at the table earlier,” I say against her lips.

“I almost let you,” she says, panting.

I pull out and drag the slickness of her arousal forward to circle her clit, and she closes her eyes and throws her head back against the wall.

“Look at me, Violet.”

She immediately tips her head forward, opening her eyes. Holding her gaze, I continue to dip and slide my fingers around her clit while I watch her facial expressions transform from borderline control to wildly frantic. She presses the back of her head against the bricks, shaking it back and forth.

She’s close. This isn’t the way I imagined making her come for the first time. I can’t help but give it to her though. She’s so erotic, so uninhibited. Outside a restaurant, against this wall, in a very public area where anyone could happen upon us, I plunge my fingers deep and curl them around to stroke the front of her wall while circling her clit with my thumb.

I watch as this beautiful creature comes undone in my arms. She never breaks eye contact with me. She doesn’t throw her head back and make that ugly face that so many women do. Watching Violet come is like beautiful art. Her hands fly to the sides of my head, and she presses her forehead against mine. Her mouth opens in a stiff O, and when she releases, there is no sound until it’s almost over, and even then, only a soft moan escapes her lips. Perfection. God, I want to see her do that a million times. I want to video it so I can watch it over and over when we aren’t together. They say some drugs are addictive after the first hit. Watching Violet come is instantly addictive. I need to get her underneath me, on top of me, on her knees in front of me. I’ve never needed to be inside a woman more.