“Cate, this isn’t how I want it to end right now, honey,” Blane mumbled. He grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me back up his body, his mouth meeting mine.
I brought my knees up and straddled him until his tip hit my clit, and a loud groan escaped me at the skin-on-skin contact there.
Catching his eye, I breathed out, “I’m on the pill.”
“I’m clean.”
He brought his hand down to where we almost met and positioned himself. I slowly lowered on him, taking my time, and he grabbed my ass and held me in place. We stilled for a moment, both of us savoring the feel of being bareback for the first time.
“Ecstasy,” he muttered. “Better than the ’ship.”
“Oh, please,” I said on a smile.
I started to move, riding him with abandon, our mouths fused until we broke the kiss and I moved faster. His hand rested on my hip, guiding my pace, his hips lifted off the bed and meeting my thrusts until he said, “I’m close.”
His hands roamed my body, scorching my side cleavage and finding purchase on my breasts. He held them, grazing the nipples with his thumbs as he stared directly into my eyes. His focus said it all.
He was all mine.
The thought of him coming inside me with no condom, a first for me, set me off. My whole body sparked and tingled as Blane finished inside me, pumping until he was completely spent. Slumped over him, I didn’t want to get up, but I was dripping.
“Let me clean you up,” Blane murmured. “Then we’ll cuddle a while until I recover.”
“What about the scones?” I scooched up on the pillow while he walked toward the bathroom.
“They’re not going anywhere. Like you,” he said over his shoulder.
Blane
Late June, nearly a year later
“Blane Steele, your team just won the NBA finals. Where are you going now?”
I was leaning against the guest lockers in the Phoenix arena; we were on the road and had just clinched the national title in game five. I hadn’t showered yet, and my sweatband was still stuck to my matted hair. I could smell myself and it wasn’t pretty, which made it hard to believe this idiot actually wanted to stand near me.
Excitement and nervous energy swam through my veins. I wanted to get home and wasn’t in the mood for the interview. I’d hated being interviewed ever since Sonny and his dare—although that had ended well for me.
Fucking around with the guy, I asked, “Why do you ask?”
His brows drew together. “Well, you live near, you know . . . the place,” he prompted, encouraging me to say the words he wanted to hear so we could both get paid.
Truth was, I was going to Disney.
I gazed upward and snapped my fingers. “You know, that place with the guy with the big ears. What’s it called?”
“You don’t know? You live in the same city.” He raised his eyebrows at me.
“Disney! That’s it, that’s where I’m going.”
Mark, the reporter, gulped, relieved I’d come through. Disney was probably paying for his trip here.
“Seriously, dude, I’m going to Disney World . . . I live in Orlando. We all are; the victory parade will be there later this week. Wait, one second.” I grabbed his mic and looked straight at the camera. “Cate, honey, meet me at the castle,” I finished with a wink. She’d know what I meant.
I handed Mark back his mic. “Okay, you want to talk about the game? I have a plane to catch.”
“What do you attribute your success on the road to? You’ve had a tremendous season on the road.”
“We’re all very serious right now about ball. I wish I could say more, other than we’re hungry for it and go after what we want.”
My hair dripped sweat down my forehead, and I pushed my sweatband up. I was going to have to frame this bad boy; it had brought me a lot of luck.
As for being hungry, we were. As the resident loudmouth, I kept the team on track, spouting shit all the time about staying healthy and being ready to win.
Yes, I’d gone out and bought a big mansion and spent a ton of cash doing a few things—like buying my mom a condo, paying in advance for Cate’s tuition, building other crap, traveling and eating at the best places—but I knew what the other side of the coin looked like. I wasn’t going back there. I needed a job, and that was playing ball. To do that, I had to be on top of my game.
Pun intended.
Mark was rambling on and on about a certain pass of mine to a teammate for a dunk, and how many times I’d gone to the line. I kept nodding and smiling. I hadn’t loved the media after what they had done to Cate and me in college, which was ironic considering she was part of the media now. At some point, I’d have to make my peace with the mic.
My girl had just graduated early and scored a gig on cable TV. HBO—no shit—had hired her to do a series on women. It would mean travel for her and me, which would require extra planning on both our parts.
Mostly, I had to get back to Orlando right now. I needed to do something and fast.
I wrapped up the interview, hit the shower, dressed in my suit, and tried not fidget through the press conference. Then I rushed to the plane.