Game For Love: Devil of the Gridiron (Kindle Worlds Novella) (4 page)

BOOK: Game For Love: Devil of the Gridiron (Kindle Worlds Novella)
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“My sweet Charlotte… You like just a taste of pain, don't you?”

A rip of fabric broke through the roar in her ears then air kissed her ass and her pussy lips. She shuddered at how wanton she felt at being so exposed for him, but he’d wanted an answer when he'd stolen her words again. So she moaned in hopes he could interpret it.

“Spread your hands wider on the window sill,” he ordered, his voice rough and raw.

She freed her arms from the straps and could only imagine the picture she made. Her green dress bunched around her waist, her breasts out, along with her ass and pussy. Everything exposed for his view.

Her feet kissed the curve of her butt, and with her hands braced on the sill, her back had to jut out, making everything below her waist prominent. All of her backlit in the main kitchen's lights and whatever filtered through the fog from the Golden Gate Bridge. Her hair was tucked to the left, leaving her back bare for his purview.

Her breath came in and out as though she was running a race. The rough scour of his jeans against her legs made her gasp. Her every nerve was screaming in her head. She gripped the sill, her nails digging so deep into the paint she would probably leave marks.

Again, all she could say was, “Adam.”

He was taking her world and spinning it on its head. “Can I have you, Charlotte? Tell me yes, and I’ll do what you want.”

She couldn't put her needs into words, so how could he even know to give it to her? “I just want you inside me.” Charlotte barely recognized the raw way she demanded him to take her.

That was all the permission Adam needed. The sound of foil ripping filled the kitchen.

“Adam, now. Please.”

The thick prodding against her entrance stole her breath and then he thrust into her. She gasped, holding onto the sill, hard. The sharp pull on her scalp resumed. He'd fisted a hand in her hair again. She closed her eyes, pushing back into his every downstroke. Their skin made such a beautiful sound, rhythmic and primitive.

“Faster,” she begged.

He grunted, his pelvis slapping against her. Heat tingled along her skin, and just when she thought it was enough for her to fall over the cliff of pleasure, he slapped a hand against the curve of her ass. The harsh sting pushed her over. She was burning up from pleasure, inside and out. Her back bowed as the orgasm worked its way up from her core to her belly. All she could do was cry out as it shook her limbs.

Adam slipped out of her. She whimpered again. He pressed his mouth to the base of her spine. She shuddered at the soft caress. It was such a contrast from the rough way he'd touched her only moments before. He planted another kiss to the middle of her back, then her shoulder.

He used his big, rough hands to angle her face toward his and kissed her on the mouth. “I'm not done with you yet.”

She reached up to touch his jawline and fell into the gentle mating. No nips this time, just his tongue exploring, teasing her until she wanted him buried inside her again.

“More,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said, his voice raspy.

Adam edged back and then lifted her from the seat. She threw an arm over his shoulder, around his neck, and curled into his warm embrace. If being with him like this felt so earth-shattering, Charlotte never wanted to be done with him. The thought should have clenched her stomach, filled her mouth with the bitter tang of fear, but he brushed a kiss along her brow.

“I'm going to worship you like I should,” he whispered against her skin. “I just couldn't wait. You're driving me crazy, Charlotte.”

At the confession, she wanted to crawl deeper into him. He made her feel shameless, brave, like the woman he saw when he looked at her. So she said, “Then take me to your bed.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Adam's heart banged against his chest as he laid Charlotte out on his mattress. She was beautiful. Every inch of her skin had flushed from his mouth and from his dick pounding into her. Her golden, red hair spread across his black satin pillowcases, making her look like a goddess.

He stepped back from the bed and drank in the sight of her. Her rose-tipped nipples seemed stark against her pale skin, but perfectly round for her full breasts. He'd touched her bare, so he knew her stomach was soft, and so were her thighs. But he didn't know what she really tasted like.

And she liked a touch of pain with her pleasure. His cock sent up a needy whine, throbbing with each heartbeat.

He climbed onto the bed, between her legs. “Let's get you undressed.”

A small, shy smile broke out, and she closed her arms over her chest. “And you?”

He'd torn off his shirt in the kitchen and had gotten as far as unzipping his jeans to release himself. “We'll get to me.”

“Adam, I don't know what I was asking you to do to me in the kitchen. I've never… I don't…”

He kissed her. Maybe it was just his testosterone talking, but he liked that she forgot to be sweet when his mouth was on her. Charlotte moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist and using her heels to push him closer. She even dropped her hands from her breasts to grip his hair.

His head buzzed. She kissed like she laughed, with her everything. Soon, she was gyrating her hips, and all he could do was find her rhythm to grind against her. This wasn't what he had promised. This was hot, mindless, and oh so good, but not worship. If he let her, she could drag him into another round of hard strokes that made his toes curl while she came. This time, though, he'd follow her into that abyss.

With all the restraint Adam could muster, he broke the kiss to rest back on his haunches. Her focus narrowed on him, her breath coming out fast and hard. The rosy tips of her breasts had darkened, puckered for his mouth.

“Adam, you taste…” She licked her lips. “Kiss me some more.”

He glanced up to shield himself from the image. When he could think somewhat straight, he worked to get the rest of her dress off. And because he couldn't help himself, Adam stopped long enough to flick his tongue over a nipple. That sidelined him for a minute or two, but soon, he was back to getting the frock off. One of the straps got stuck on her foot. Together, they tried to free it and ended up tangling it worse. Chuckling, he glanced at her. Her eyes were lit with a smile.

“Be still,” he said. “I got it.”

He clasped her ankle and worked the dress free. Instead of going back to her mouth like he wanted, Adam flattened his hand along her arch and pressed his mouth to the spider web of delicate bones. She bit her lip, her attention fixed on what he was doing.

This was worship—no loopholes, just kept promises for Charlotte. He kissed and licked his way up to her calf and then back down to her heel until she moaned, curling her toes. He replaced his mouth with his hands, letting his fingertips slide against her skin like she'd been deprived of touch her whole life. Hell, she had. He hadn't been the one to caress the backs of her knees, the crook of her neck—nothing else counted.

He mapped her out and found a sensitive spot along the underside of her right breast. Her left nipple was more sensitive, much more responsive. His mouth replaced his hands, and she loved to have her belly button tongue-kissed. He had to suck really hard on her collarbone, otherwise she wouldn't sing for him.

Adam worshiped her like his bed was an altar. His cock throbbed. His jeans were soaked with his pre-cum and her arousal because there were times he'd needed a small release, a tease of friction along his shaft to keep going.

When he finally knelt between her legs, his face a breath away from tasting Charlotte's pussy, her thighs were trembling. He began with long, soft sucks on the lips, her bouquet filling his mouth because his touch, his hands, had left her so wet. Adam groaned. In love at first taste. Here, too she was sweet. He dipped two fingers into her and then licked his glistening digits.

His release beat at his spine. He had to do this, though. He would come in one stroke—he knew it from the way sweat slicked down his back, the muscles in his shoulders tense enough to shatter.

Her nub was swollen, so he continued to ignore his need and fulfilled hers. He lashed his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the hood of her sex protruding, making the task easy.

“Adam, please, make me come. I can't take anymore of this.”

That wasn't asking for much, and at this point, there was nothing inside him that could refuse her. He grasped her thighs, pushed them back, and offered her up to his mouth as a sacrifice. Adam licked her up, a glutton for her sweet cream. When her thighs squeezed tight, he sucked her clit, greedy for every moan that seemed to wash over him.

Charlotte stiffened and her hips arched off the bed. There was no slow, steady buildup to her orgasm. She shuddered then shattered, the pleasure of what he was doing wracking through her. Adam pinned her back down to the bed, feeding his lust with every broken cry and body tremble she gave him as praise.

His heart pounded and every thud intensified the almost painful ache in his balls. He wanted to thrust inside her, but she needed to come down. What she needed came first. The man that he was should have never been given a taste of this heaven. He placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, letting his fingertips soothe her as best they could.

When he reached her mouth, Charlotte didn't hesitate to draw him into a kiss. She moaned and nipped at his tongue. What was left of his brain turned to mush. A mistake had brought him here, and he was unrepentant.

“Charlotte, my Charlotte, I need to be inside you now. Let me.”

Like there were lead weights drawing down her lids, she looked at him through a sleepy gaze. “You're still dressed.”

He straightened, his hands feeling clumsy as he tried to undo his zipper. She sat up and kissed him, pushing aside his hands to do the work herself. Was that him breathing like a freight train? Maybe. Fuck, likely. His head was filled with fuzz.

Adam didn't know how, but he found himself on his back, her hand closed around his cock as she stroked him.

“That mouth of yours,” she said and then groaned, “I can't think. I don't feel like myself after your tongue has been all over me.” She nipped at his lower lip. “I feel crazed.”

She tightened her fist and all thought stopped. He was too close. Adam grasped her wrist, but she kissed him, her free hand spearing through his hair until she closed her fist.

“I want you inside me. I want you to come.” She made a soft sound, as though she hated to speak the next words, “I need you to be inside me.”

He guided her hand down to the base of his shaft. “Take me in.”

She lifted, straddled his lap so her pussy lined up to his cock, and then she lowered herself onto him. He couldn't do anything else but shut his eyes and ignored anything that wasn't Charlotte closing  around him so snug—so, so wet. She let out a strangled gasp halfway down.

“You're so big, Adam. So hard.”

He was lost in the heat of her. When she started to move up and down, his blood roared in his ears. She took more of him in then rolled her hips. Again. And again.  She impaled herself, sinking him deep until there was nothing to feel but her, and then she was rising, tugging him from base to tip like a tight, wet fist.

Her soft hands rode up and down his chest in a thoughtless caress like she had needed to touch him while in this intimate position. That did him in. The quickening of her sex is was what finished him. His groans stopped being so quiet and turned into full-throat grunts of pleasure. She rode him faster, stroking herself with him harder.

A whisper of warning reminded him he wasn't wearing a condom. He'd tossed the one he had on in the kitchen. The conflict flashed for a moment, but he couldn't do that to her, so he held back until she cried out then went limp against him. He pulled out, letting out a deep, harsh groan. He came, his dick pressed against their bodies. Adam pushed her down, closer to him as his hips jerked in the final throes of his climax.

Spent, he grasped the nape of her neck and brought her down for a kiss. She melted into him, and he realized then that nothing else before her counted.

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Hours later, Adam should have been asleep, brain-dead but content. Any other free weekend he'd had since he struck that devil's bargain with the Outlaws, he'd stripped, slip under his covers, and pretended he didn't ache.

He'd thought—had been so certain—all he needed was sex or a good party to fill that nagging pit in his gut. All that free time behaving was the culprit to his idle mind.

Charlotte curled into his embrace, moaning softly in her sleep. He shifted, pressing his cock against her stomach, maybe more than a little hopeful she'd be prodded awake. Adam narrowed his eyes. Her breathing continued its slow, steady rhythm.

No dice.

And that left him alone with his thoughts.

Screw that.

As best he could, Adam rolled out of the bed, making sure the pillows he'd kept warm would cushion his absence. His ghosts didn't need to rattle chains at her, too.

Not bothering to put on clothes, he went to the kitchen, poured himself some water, wishing it was whiskey—but he'd banned all liquor six months ago. Tonight's wine had been the first in a long while.

A lot of firsts in a long while.

He rolled his shoulders and made his way to the living room to watch TV. He settled for standing up behind the couch to watch rugby, too restless to sit. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up a moment before Charlotte spoke.

“Do you always watch sports naked?”

Adam glanced down at his cock and shook his head. The sound of her voice could get him off. He should be more bothered by that. “Only when putting clothes on defeats my end goal.”

She leaned against the entryway, his sheet tucked around her. Love bites decorated both shoulders. Her tousled locks spilled around her face. He swallowed and considered looking away, though that wouldn't stem the southbound blood flow. But she stood there in a sheet, her hair rumpled from his hands. He'd done that—wanted to do it again.

Charlotte worried her lip then lifted her chin. No. He couldn't look away as she strutted over to him. Nothing was more beautiful than when a woman realized her power. He should have let her get on top the first time. Maybe then he'd be asleep, but he wouldn't have wanted to miss this walk—her hips rolled, sensuous and slow.

“What's your end goal?” she asked.

She'd probably expect the raunchy answer wanting to fall out. He turned the channel to some slow music. He crooked his finger on the sheet and gave it a nice tug. Nothing. Her hold was too tight.

“Well then,” he said, “getting you to loosen your death grip is first.”

A smile fluttered at her mouth. “Do you always have a sarcastic comeback ready?”

He rested his hands on her hips, yanked her closer, and rocked her to the melody. “It's like a pressure valve. One of the conditions of my contract is that I have to give straight, polite answers to any and all media.”

“So this is spillover?”

“Yes.”

“If you didn't want to answer all those questions in the class, you should have told me.”

“The kids were fine,” he reassured her, and he meant the words. “Matter of fact, if you want me to, I can come again next week. No PR this time. I can teach them chicken quesadillas. Quick, simple, and I'll even bring the chicken. I know this place that sells shredded chicken breast by the truckload.”

She tilted her head back, her features soft. “I would love that and the boys would, too.”

“I liked them. They remind me of me.” He ground into her on the next hip rock, and he liked the way her lids lowered. “I also like dancing naked with you. Though this sheet…”

Her smile went impish. “I'm not worried about you and this sheet. You're going to poke a hole in it soon.”

He kissed her instead of laughing. “I'm rubbing off on you.”

She rested a hand on his waist, still holding on to the sheet with the other. “Is that a bad thing?”

Yes
. More than once, he'd caught the shadow in her gaze—it hid behind the vulnerability. Out of all the ways she could have volunteered, she'd chosen teenage boys—wild ones—to mentor. He knew that gleam in their eyes. Hell, he still had his. Is that what drew her to him?

Adam needed to know more about her than he needed to touch her. He grasped her jaw. “You've caught me on an off-season, I'm not this…” He searched for the right word and the last fit the best. “
This
. I don't dance naked in my living room with anyone. I don't let women spend the night or the weekend, unless it's Cabo. Never in my home. I donate to charities because that's important. But I'm everything the papers claim.”

Her expression remained the same—soft. “The Devil of the Gridiron?”

So she knew enough about him to come to that conclusion. Good. “More like I listen to that little devil on my shoulder much too often.”

She trailed her fingers up his torso then let them dance over his shoulder. “What is he telling you to do now?”

He raised his brows before ripping off the sheet in one hard tug. Charlotte squeaked, “Adam!”

He chuckled at her shocked, shy reaction. “Told you.” Adam closed his arms around her so she wouldn't dive for the sheet for protection. “Now, let's really dance.”

“I'm naked.”

“Kind of the point. Now put your hands around my neck, and I'll show you my moves.”

She did and he held her to him so they were eye to eye, her feet dangling at least a foot off the floor. Her breasts were flattened against his chest, her stomach a soft cushion against the hard planes of muscles he'd worked to maintain. Charlotte made him appreciate those hours at the gym a little differently. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he rocked them from side to side.

“Still doing all the work,” he murmured in her ear.

As he'd hoped, she chuckled. “I did some last time.”

“Did you?”

She wiggled, arching her hips down until her sex slipped against his cock. Adam almost dropped her. He staggered to the couch, his head dizzy as hell at the sudden loss of blood. She laughed the whole time. Somehow, she ended up on top of him, sporting a vixen's smile.

“You were saying?” she asked.

That so deserved payback, but she bent down to kiss him, and all the tension his body had harbored disappeared. He wrapped his hands low on her waist and let her mouth do things to him that he couldn't put into words. By the time she pulled away, Charlotte was trembling.

“Cold,” she said.

Adam glanced up at the back of the couch where the sheet had fallen. He tucked them in, their bared skin keeping the warmth between them under the light material. She crooked her face into his neck, and soon she was asleep again. Except this time, as the slow music continued to fill the silence, he followed her into a deep slumber.

*****

With the sun high in the sky, Charlotte demanded a shower, alone. Not that she somehow felt modest after their night of lovemaking and dancing naked… Or that she wasn't tempted to see what he could do while they were both wet and slippery from soap—that was probably on her bucket list, and she didn't even have one.

She couldn't think when Adam was right there, being the best kind of distraction. Charlotte needed to think. Too much was happening in such a short amount of time. There was no guide to what they were doing. No way she could have a contingency plan to the contingency plan.

She stepped from under  the spray of the shower and twisted the ends of her hair to rid it of the excess water. At some point, though, she had to get out and face him again and somehow hold on to rational thought since this wasn't a long-term deal. He hadn't said as much, but did it really need to be stated? He'd breached his contract or even broke his word that he'd stay on the straight and narrow for a year. He'd made it six months. Would their relationship even last that long?

Goodness, she wished she could get caught up in the fun, wild side of this affair, but not thinking about the consequences is why she had a missing piece of her heart. Her brother never considered the repercussions of his actions.

Adam was a smart man. He had to have considered what this affair meant for his career if they got caught. She hated to think of herself as some kind of balm for his wild nature, and she wouldn't know unless she pressed him for the truth. And she couldn't do that if she hid in the shower all afternoon.

Charlotte shut off the water, got dressed, and went to get answers to the questions her time alone had sifted to the surface.

She found him on his patio, his feet propped on the steel fencing. A tinge of sea filled the air, but she picked up his masculine scent. As always, her stomach did a little flip until she caught sight of his profile. The stark, tense expression on his face forced her to slow her step. He tilted his head in her direction. After a quick inspection of her face, he raised a brow as though he knew she had a million questions and doubts.

Charlotte hated that he could see through her so easily.

“Who was it?” he asked.

She blinked at the abrupt question. “What?”

“You volunteer at what amounts to a troubled program for boys. Who was your troubled boy?”

Maybe if he hadn't offered his hand for her to come to him, her back would have stiffened at the probing question. Still, she sat in the patio chair far away from him. His touch made everything else dim, and nothing but his hands on her became important.

“My brother, Lance,” she answered without hesitation.

No point in trying to hide the truth. Adam was much smarter than he let on. He’d told her he was a bad boy, and she was going to believe him, but that didn't stop her from seeing his intelligence, his kindness, and his wicked sense of humor. At some point, she'd have to decide which trait was most important or damning.

He glanced back at the bay and cursed softly. “What happened?”

“Drunk driving. He died.” She swallowed so the simple fact wouldn’t choke her up. Charlotte gave herself another second before saying, “It was preventable. Not just that night, but the kind of behavior that led him to think it was okay to get behind a wheel of a car after a pint of bourbon.”

“I'm sorry for that, Charlotte.” His sincerity bled through the words.

She clasped her hands together and squeezed. “Thank you.”

Adam nodded and then shook his head as though coming to some kind of conclusion at her short confession. “Are you trying to save me?”

Her brows shot up. “Do you need saving?”

His chuckle was dark. “Depends on who you ask.”

She shifted. “I should go.”

He locked his fingers together and then rested them behind his head. The pose was both relaxed and arrogant. “No,” he said simply.

“What?” she said, shocked at the vehemence in his voice.

“Tell me why you're leaving, then.” His gaze was intense, unforgiving.

“We both know—”

“What?” he pushed.

Their time together had been short, but she'd changed. She could feel the difference when she closed her eyes and listened to her body. It was more than the aches and the beard burns. She'd asked—no demanded—that he take her hard and fast. She'd pushed him onto the bed and wrested control. She’d come out to his patio, and when he'd pinned that hard stare on her, she didn't buckle. How could one night change her life—change her—so drastically?

She straightened her spine and asked, “Are you saying we're more than a one-night stand?”

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring. “Yes.”

She broke the eye contact to look out at the water. From here, she could see the way the Pacific ocean raged against the shoreline. “Then how many nights?”

“As many as you'll give me.”

She whipped her gaze back to him, her limbs hot and her hands unsteady at the truth she could hear in those simple words. From his vantage point, she'd be the one to walk away first, not the other way around. Her lungs felt so tight she had to struggle to keep her breathing steady.

“I'm not some innocent, Adam. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“What you want to hear is that I'll always be safe and stable, never impulsive. I won't say that because I hate being a liar.” Smooth and languid, like a panther, he rose from the chair and strode over to her. He closed a hand in her shirt, forcing her to stand and meet his hard gaze.

“You don't want to believe you're the kind of a woman who will make a man reckless. You're not the devil on a man's shoulder.” He laughed and then nipped at the corner of her mouth. “And I can't walk away. Not yet. You're kind, sweet, and giving. You're the girl mothers should warn their boys about. You'll twist me into something I'm not, and I'll love every moment of it. So if anyone should have doubts or run for the hills, it should be me.”

Last night had been too real for these words to be lies. Adam thought she was the one who would break his heart. Charlotte, the woman who didn't take chances. Charlotte, who didn't believe in following one’s heart, much less a gut instinct—too often that led you to dark, ugly cliffs.

Her heart thudded hard and fast, more than ready to take a leap. “But you won't run?”

BOOK: Game For Love: Devil of the Gridiron (Kindle Worlds Novella)
8.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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