She was glad she’d chosen to wear a formfitting tank top underneath rather than one of the ratty T-shirts she typically pulled on for a morning at the house. Not bothering to move the fabric aside, he bent down and took her nipple in his teeth and tugged.
Holy. Lord. She almost came right there. If she’d been able to breathe she would have grabbed his hair and held him there. That alone would have been enough. But before she could catch her breath, he’d sunk down to his knees and begun to pull her sweats and underwear down over her hips.
If she’d been in her right mind, she might have been worried about the stretch marks—she’d carried triplets, for God’s sake—or the not-tight-enough skin or, well, everything. But none of that seemed to matter as he pushed up the hem of her tank top and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her stomach. Trailed his tongue to her hip. Brushed his fingertips down her legs as he leaned in to kiss the back of her knee, the inside of her thigh.
He pulled back slightly and for a second time stood still. She was trembling. Quivering. Tears were falling from her eyes from the sheer perfection of it all. And then, as if she weren’t already so turned on she was about to explode, he made one of those eminently male, you-are-mine growls before he leaned in and undid her.
That was the only word for it. He held her to his mouth and feasted. He lapped at her clit, thrust his tongue inside, pressed against her with his chin… She arched up into him, grabbed the sides of the dryer for all she was worth, and bit down on her lip so she didn’t give away to the whole house that Jack had just shown her the true meaning of bliss. He coaxed her through every single second of the most glorious orgasm she’d ever had. She wanted to roar. She wanted to scream and cry out to the whole world that she’d just found the Holy Grail and they hadn’t even had sex.
At what point she finally collapsed she had no idea; just that she could feel Jack bring her pants back up over her legs, pull her tank top back down, and wrap the sweater around her again. Then he pulled her into his arms and tucked her head into his chest and held her as, still shaking, she came down.
She was mentally present enough to realize he was still hard—even to register that she not just needed to return the favor, but that she desperately wanted to. Except, oh, for Heaven’s sake, she was crying.
“I’m not sad,” she said into his chest.
He chuckled. “No, babe. I got that.”
“And I’m not about to go all crazy clingy,” she added, despite the fact that she couldn’t physically remove herself from his arms yet. “I’ll let go as soon as I can walk again.”
“No rush.” The smile was still in his voice. “We can stay just like this for as long as you like.”
Using the principle of gravity, it was actually possible for her to let her hand drop down between them and at least get a little bit of a feel. Despite his appearing cool and calm, he sucked in a breath as her hand tightened around him.
“Maybe not quite as long as originally thought,” he said, his voice cracking a little.
To the contrary. “Longer.” And thicker, come to think of it.
Category: Sports Romance
Love Hurts by Mandi Beck
Even when she won’t fight for us, I’ll go to war for her… Inside the Octagon, I have no fear. I’m at home, in my element, inflicting pain onto men trained to hurt me just as badly. Making them submit, knocking them out, maiming them, because it’s them or me. And I choose them. Outside…
Moonshot by Alessandra Torre
Baseball shouldn’t be a game of life and death…
Sacrifice by Adriana Locke
My life changed forever the night my husband died. I was left with a shattered heart, a heap of bills, and our daughter, EVERLEIGH. I don’t want to rely on anyone, least of all CREW GENTRY. He’s my first love and the man who almost destroyed me, the man who has let me…
Calling It by Jen Doyle
A night with Nate Hawkins? Who turned down a chance like that? Dorie Donelli, apparently
Checked into Love by Rochelle Paige
Who in the hell did he think he was? He might have been the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my life—one who’d messed with my head enough to make my self-imposed break from men last ridiculously long, even though my career was flourishing—but that didn’t mean he had the right to tell me what to do.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I? I’m not your girlfriend. I’m just some woman you talked to for a few hours nine months ago. I’m surprised you even remember my name.”
“I remember a fuck of a lot more than your name, Cecily,” he rumbled.
“Cee-Cee,” I snapped. “Nobody but my family calls me Cecily.”
“If you didn’t want me to think of you that way, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself to me as Cecily.”
He made an excellent point, one I’d wondered about myself quite a few times. I never gave my full name when I met new people, not even in a professional setting. Yet, that’s exactly what I’d done with him. I’d been surprised when my name had slipped out of my mouth back then, and I still wasn’t sure why I’d done it, except that it had felt right at the moment.
Maybe it was because I’d wanted him to see me as a Cecily, a woman who was more mysterious and sophisticated than fun-loving Cee-Cee. Or it could have just been because Cecily sounded sexier than Cee-Cee. Either way, it apparently hadn’t mattered because he’d easily forgotten about my existence in the few minutes I was in the bathroom.
“Fine,” I huffed. “You can call me whatever you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m nobody important to you.”
“Only because you pulled a disappearing act on me!”
His deep blue eyes flared, in what looked like barely suppressed rage mixed with a hint of hurt. But that didn’t make any sense considering what I’d seen with my own two eyes that night. “I didn’t think you’d care. You seemed happy enough with that brunette at the bar when I came out of the bathroom.”
“The brunette at the bar,” he echoed softly, the anger in his expression oddly replaced by a flash of humor as he chuckled wryly. “All that time, wasted over a simple misunderstanding. It fucking figures.”
Playing Dirty by Mickey Miller
Jake maybe the best pitcher in the league, is he ready for his knew image consultant. Andrea is more than a tall beautiful woman, she is smart, sexy and knows her way around sports.
The Player by Claire Contreras
I’m naturally gifted on the field and between the sheets. With flashy cars and enough media attention to put the Royal Family to shame, I’m the definition of Most Eligible Bachelor.
I’ve never met a man who doesn’t want to be me or a woman who doesn’t want to tame me. Until I meet Camila.
From the moment I lay eyes on her, I know I have to have her.
She wants to keep me at arm’s length.
I want her naked in my bed.
She thinks our worlds are too different.
All I want her to think about is screaming my name.
She says I’m bad news.
I have three weeks to prove her wrong.
YEAR END REVIEW:
The ones that are still in my heart and I can’t get over. I forgot to physically mention Adriana Lockr for SWAY, but I will just tell you. Her Landry boys are amazing and you need to go find them, it was the grapes that got me. Kate Canterbary Beth Ehemann K Webster Fiona…
SWING by Adriana Locke
Lincoln Landry probably even has game-winning stamina.
I’d like to screw her and her perfect ass.
Dangerous curves.
Sweet smile.
Danielle Ashley probably even has a game-changing personality.
Going Under, The Blackhawk Boys – Lexi Ryan
If I met Alexandra DeLuca for the first time today, I would only need one word to describe her:
Juked – M.E. Carter
Juked: verb. /jook-t/ A slang soccer term meaning: faked out, deceived, confused your opponent See examples Daniel Zavaro and Quincy Watson
