Quarterback's Secret Baby (Bad Boy Ballers) (40 page)

He pushes me down on the couch. “I'm going to give you the best head you've ever had in your life,” he boasts with a saucy grin. I watch him undo my jeans and slide them off, revealing my lacy thong I wore just in case the night went as I had hoped. He groans, feeling the flimsy fabric between strong fingers and trails his tongue around the edges where lace meets skin. It's making me wild, seeing him between my legs, teasing me mercilessly. He pierces me with his impossibly blue eyes, before pulling my panties to the side and licking my whole slit from bottom to top, making me gasp. His rough tongue laps at my lips before he takes my clit ever so gently in his mouth and sucking at it softly. I'm squirming, squealing.

As he swirls his tongue around my clit, suddenly I feel him push in with his finger, and before long he coaxes a loud moan from me as the energy coils inside of me, ready to break into a thousand stars. Then it happens, I come, but he won't release me. He keeps the feeling going and I thrash around on the bed until I've come three times in short succession.

“Now you're ready for me,” he growls, and I can only whimper in response. I've never simultaneously felt so worn out, and still so ready for more. He climbs on top of me, his massive cock in one hand.

“You want this?” he asks.

“God, yes,” I breathe. I wanted it as soon as I laid eyes on him.

“You sure?” He teases me with the head of his cock, and our eyes meet again. There's something more in those eyes, a depth that I don't expect from a one-night thing. Not that I'm some kind of expert. It's been a long time since I've even been in a man's bed, but when I imagine having some kind of affair, I don't expect to see a real soul inside.

He quickly sheathes himself then thrusts inside me, slowly at first, and then pushes all the way in, and I clutch him. It feels so good, so hard and unrelenting. I wrap my legs around him and our hips meet and collide, until he withdraws to the last inch and thrusts all the way in again. I'd almost forgotten how good sex could be. Every thrust makes me feel more and more whole, more and more myself, and more deserving of pleasure.

I cry out, wildly and freely. I don't have to pretend. I can be exactly who I am around him, because I don't want anything more from him than this—his hot cock and strong arms around me. He moans along with me, and with every move of his expert hips we move closer and closer, until we both come together; he sends jets of his hot seed inside me, and my body quivers and convulses around him.

When we finish, he lays down beside me, pushes a strand of hair off of my face, and kisses me tenderly. Then his eyes close, and with his arms wrapped around me, he falls asleep, his breathing changing.

I remain awake in the throes of afterglow from the most satisfying experience I've ever had, before snuggling closer to him and falling asleep as well.

* * *

When the first light hits my eyes, searing straight into my brain, I can't figure out where I am at first. All I know is that my tongue is so fuzzy it feels like squirrels nested inside my mouth and my head is pounding. Then I realize there's a big, tatted, meaty arm around me. I turn my head and see him. The face of the man I banged last night. It's all coming back to me: the dancing, the drinks, the alley. The cab ride. Oh God, the sex. It was amazing.

I turn and look at his face again. The dark hair, the stubble a little longer than yesterday night, the fringe of eyelashes, the strong jaw. He's definitely beautiful, and also definitely trouble. I need to get out of here.

Carefully extricating myself from under his arm, so as not to awaken him, I slide out of the bed. Luckily its one of those mattresses that feels like a soft pillow wherever you lay, and I don't bounce him awake. I try a door, and it's a huge walk-in closet. Oh yeah, forgot he's rich. The next door leads into a sumptuous marble bathroom, all black stone and mirrors—in which I can see my shame all too clearly.

It's that moment that I realize I’m supposed to be at work for my first day. My phone must be in my pocket or purse, and I have no idea what time it is. Oh Lord, Odell, what have you done? You're always such a good girl! I splash soap and water over my face to rid myself of the raccoon eyes that are the remains of last night's makeup, and dry on the plushest, softest towel I've ever felt. The way my head feels I want to curl up in this towel and try to die, but I can't. Gotta get home stat. I hope it's early enough I can just rush out and grab a taxi. It's time to get out of here. Slipping out the door as quietly as I can, I see that lover boy is still sleeping. Perfect. I slide my jeans on, grab my purse and tiptoe as soundlessly as I can out of the nicest apartment I've ever been in. So strange when he's so rough and ready. Who is this guy?

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