Hooked Up the Game Plan (2 page)

“Absolutely. No silicone whatsoever.”

“Damn.” Without explanation, he led her off the dance floor and snapped his fingers at the bartender. “Mike, I need a key to the backroom and a bottle of wine.”

Mike opened a bottle of wine and handed it to Drake along with a key. After spinning around and hauling her with him, Drake made a beeline down the hallway, past the bathrooms, to a door marked Office. Callie’s heart threatened to beat right out of her chest as he turned the key in the lock then opened the door.

Drake stood back and waited for her to enter first. Then he shut and locked the door behind them. After flicking on a desk light, he sank down on a worn leather couch. The music seeped through the walls, the bass vibrating the room with the perfect beat for a little sex.

Callie hesitated, uncertain what to do next. Drake lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He handed the bottle to her. His slow, predatory smile wet her panties even more. She took a long swig, needing all the help she could get.

“Do a strip tease for me.” He spoke like a man accustomed to having his orders followed, leaving no room for argument. His feral smile reminded her all the more of a wolf.

Callie’s body swayed to the music, as if acting on its own. She lowered the straps on her corset top and began her fantasy.

***
*

Drake couldn’t believe his incredible stroke of luck. He’d come into Blarney’s tonight to drown his sorrows. The word hadn’t leaked out yet, but he’d been
cut
in favor of a rookie. Hooking up with a fan had been the farthest thing from his mind, but funny how things changed.

Had she been the normal type of groupie, he wouldn’t have propositioned her. At least not tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for women who screwed anything with money. Yet the second he’d laid eyes on Callie, he’d known she was different.

Sure, she looked the part with that hot, sexy outfit that screamed “fuck me.” Yet his instincts, which he trusted unequivocally, told him differently. She didn’t normally do this. For her, screwing jocks was the exception, not the rule. He found watching her good girl side waging a battl
e with her bad girl side fascinat
ing. Not only that, but her veiled innocence excited him. She’d come to the right place because he was just the guy to bring out that naughty vixen inside.

“So do you do this often?” As if he didn’t know the answer to that question. Her darting eyes and fidgeting hands told him all he needed know.

“All the time.”

“Bullshit.”

“Does it show?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I’ve never gone after an athlete—or anyone—for a one-night stand.”

“Well, sugar, you came to the right place because I’m your one-night-stand man.” He hesitated, knowing he needed to offer his normal disclaimer. “I just want you to be perfectly clear that a one-night stand is all this is. Once it’s over, we go our separate ways.” He felt like a heel telling her that, but he believed in honesty. He didn’t have more to give a woman, didn’t know if he ever would. But the last thing he’d be is one of those guys who got married then fooled around on his wife. He’d rather stay single and fool around. And to keep his life simple, he never slept with any woman more than once. It was one of his personal rules.

“I understand. It’s what I want.” She looked at him. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled with need, which he totally understood.

He needed her, too. Bad. Really bad. His dick definitely needed her and ached to be buried in her warm pussy.

“Then,” He crooked a smile, “strip for me, baby. Make me want you.” He leaned back, propped his feet on a scarred coffee table, and waited.

She hesitated for a split second. Slowly, she moved her hips in time to the beat of the music, but the movements were jerky and tentative. He licked his lips as he stared at her heaving chest and impressive tits. And they were real. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a handful of silicone-free boob.
It didn’t happen in his artificial
world.

He held his breath as she tugged on the front laces of the tight corset-style shirt. With trembling fingers, she loosened it to bare minute inch by minute inch of creamy white skin until her rosy nipples were exposed. Oh, man, he wanted to taste those babies.

Callie glanced at him through lowered eyelashes and ran her tongue around her red lips. She slid the corset past her hips and down her long, long legs. Drake forgot how to breathe when she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of that short, short skirt. She turned her back to him and waved that fine butt in his face as she pulled down the cloth to reveal a G-string clad ass. Down the skirt went, and up went his dick. As she spun, she caught the fabric with a toe and flipped it toward him. It landed in his lap.

By now he was panting like a horny lion trapped in a den of lionesses. She danced close to him, tantalizing him, teasing him. Each time he reached out to touch her she sidestepped him.

“No touching. Not yet.”

“You’re killing me, darlin
’
.” He crooked a finger, but she shook her head. “Take off the G-string.”

She
wagged
a finger, obviously enjoying the power.
Hell,
he didn’t care right now who was in
charge
as long as his hunger and dick were fed. Definitely his dick. She danced a little too close, and he grabbed her by the G-string, catching her off balance. She fell forward, her knees on either side of his body. Her crotch in his face.

Oh, yeah. Perfect. Very perfect.

He held her in place by grasping her ass. Using his teeth, he moved the G-string aside. Her crotch was shaved except for a small patch of dark hair. She was soaking wet. He slid his tongue from back to front in one long swipe. She groaned and leaned into his face. Drake delved between her folds to the source of her wetness and savored the hot, sweet taste of sex. He lapped up her juices then thrust his tongue inside that cavern of pleasure, pushing deep thanks to a long tongue—one of the things women loved about him.

Callie dug her fingers into his hair and parted her thighs, which was like putting out a welcome mat.
Come on in and make yourself comfortable.
Oh, yeah.

Drake found her clit and sucked on it while thrusting his fingers in and out of her tight, little snatch. She hung onto him as she shuddered, her entire body shaking, and came with an ecstatic cry.

Drake looked up and watched the various emotions playing across her face, sharing her ecstasy and relishing being the one who gave her such pleasure. He patiently waited until her tremors subsided. Lifting her, he stood then carried her to the large oak executive desk. He sat her on the edge.

“Don’t move, honey.”

She swayed like a boneless cat, half-drunk by the aftermath of her orgasm. Her half-lidded gaze roved the length of his body then came back to rest on his face. “Your turn to strip.”

His sweet little princess spoke with a smidgeon of attitude. He liked that. He also liked how she was beginning to gain her confidence around him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Drake never disappointed the ladies. Kicking off his shoes, he yanked his sweatshirt over his hea
d then followed it up with his T
-shirt. After unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he shucked them and kicked them across the room. A second later, his underwear joined the pile. Straightening, he broke a smile as her mouth dropped open, her gaze locked on his cock.

“It’s—” She seemed to struggle for the right words.

“Impressive? Massive? A major love tool? Hotter than a bottle rocket? And bigger than a bread box?”

“All of the above.” She laughed and reached to touch him as he stepped closer. She stroked him with reverence. His cock responded by hardening and begging for more. Okay, well, it didn’t exactly beg, but Drake did. He pressed closer to her, held her shoulders in his hands, and threw back his head, eyes closed, just living in the moment. She ran her finger down one side and up the other, circled the tip, then back down she went. She cupped his balls, rolled them in her hand, and then started the process all over again.

He thought he might die. At the least, his knees threatened to give out and drop him to the floor. That would fucking not work. Not when he had bigger plans for entwining his body with her body.

Drake bit down on his lower lip and moaned, not sure how much more of this torture he’d be able to
stand
before he lost control. Taking matters into his own hands, he pushed her back on the desk and leaned over her. Bending down, he stole another life-giving kiss and then moved lower. He sucked one of those perfect pink nipples into his mouth while plucking the other. Her tits alone would fuel
an
entire team’s wet dreams. They just might fuel a few of his nightly fantasies for the next several months too.

He buried his face between her breasts, breathing in the unique scent of her, relishing the feel of her silky skin against his stubbled jaw.

He’d done this a million times with countless, faceless, nameless women, yet somehow he knew Callie wouldn’t be easy to forget. The fact he actually remembered her name gave testament to that. She was different. She wasn’t a normal groupie. Nor had she been around the field a few times. Heck, he wasn’t sure if she’d made it out of the locker room. He loved being the guy to show her the ropes, give her a unique experience. She’d never forget these few hours with him. He’d see to it.

He suspected he’d never forget them either.

***
*

Callie threaded her fingers through Drake’s hair as he bent his head to her breasts. She might come again with just his mouth sucking her nipples. “I think it’s time for a condom.”

He lifted his head and rewarded her with a crooked smile. After crossing the room in a few long strides, he dug in his pants pocket, removed his wallet, and pulled out a condom. He held it up for her inspection and grinned. "Never leave home without it."

"I'm one of many." She forced a smile, even as she gritted her teeth. Some of the good feelings faded away.

"Honey, you are unique. One in a million." He ripped the wrapper off the condom with his perfect white teeth and rolled into onto one impressive cock.

"That's not a very original line."

"It's not a line." He looked dead serious. Those gorgeous eyes of his drilled into hers as he approached her and rested his hips between her spread legs.

She rolled her eyes and swallowed. Hard. Like she'd believe that in a million years. This man had more lines than the
B
ible had verses.

"You seem to doubt my credibility. If I told you I was a master at sex, would you believe me?" His eyes sparkled with mischief as he rubbed against her.

"That I'd believe, as I've had a little experience with your masterful tongue."

"Ah, yes, but baby, you ain't seen the tip of the old iceberg yet."

“What woman needs ice when the man she’s with is packing heat like you are?”

His grin returned, even broader. “You’re a smart woman.”

“You’re a lucky man.”
H
e didn’t miss a beat. He pressed his cock against her slit, all the while keeping his gaze on hers. She shuddered and angled her hips, needing him inside her more than she needed to breathe. His large cock pressed inside her, stretching her to her limits, but Drake showed amazing control and
kindness
, even though holding back had to be killing him. He paused each time she tightened around him, waited a short while then pushed a little deeper.

Callie wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, plunging her tongue in his mouth, controlling the kiss. He let her as he continued his slow, torturous journey into the depths of her body. She felt full, yet her body sheathed him, clutched at him, welcomed him inside. He pressed deeper as she kissed him harder. Then he took over the kiss and thrust inside her the final few inches, burying his tongue in her mouth at the same time he buried his cock in her body.

His chest hairs rubbed against her nipples, sliding across them with delicious friction. She encircled his waist with her legs and
invited
him deeper inside. The sensations of a hard cock inside her pussy just about did her in. Again. The tremors started to build.

Drake shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Not without me.” He withdrew until the tip of his cock teased the folds of her pussy, ignoring her whimpered protests. Despite her attempts to draw him back inside, he held her hips still and waited.

Too long. Way too long.

Finally the man took mercy on her and buried himself, only to slide back out again. In. Then out. In. Then out. He established a regular rhythm, one too slow and careful for her purposes. Callie had never had a man like this one. A man so capable of taking anything he wanted, yet considering her feelings first. She’d never felt such raw power and rippling muscles under her fingers and against her body. And she’d certainly never felt a cock even a portion of his size.

“Like that?” He watched her eyes as he increased his rhythm a notch.