He turned me over and braced his hands on either side of my head, forcing me to look up at him. He was grinning. But he was also serious as fuck.
"Nev. We are leaving for Paris immediately after your exam. You've been studying for weeks. You're ready. Also, we need time to-"
"Do not say 'fuck'."
"Make love. We need time to make love."
I rolled my eyes.
"Again?"
"Twice in one day does not a satisfied Clay make."
I laughed as he started unbuttoning my top.
"Are you ever going to slow down?"
He was kissing the tops of my breasts as he undid my jeans.
"No."
He started pulling my jeans off and froze.
"Well, maybe in twenty years or so."
"Is that when you fall in love with your secretary?"
He was back on me in an instant.
"No, Nevada. Never. Now you are going to get a spanking, you bad little girl."
I squealed and tried to get away. He was laughing as he held me over his knee and gave me three loud smacks. Then he leaned down and kissed the sting away.
"But we can always play secretary. Let's try that in Paris."
He rolled on top of me, our bodies coming together perfectly, as usual.
"Would you like to go on a business trip with me, Ms. Jones? We don't have to tell my fiancé."
He looked offended when I cracked up. I stopped laughing a few minutes later as he slid inside me.
He had a way of getting my attention.
I liked it. I liked it a lot.
Player
Joanna Blake
"Yo' Fitz! Your turn man."
I looked up to see Kyle grinning stupidly as the stripper finished grinding on him. The song was ending and Kyle had his hands all over the dancer's generous ass. The girl, Crystal something or other, was only wearing a G-string. Her tanned skin gleamed in the dim light.
I drank deeply from my twenty-dollar beer. Thankfully drinks were free for the team. As were the lap dances. And anything else that might arise.
Players frequently went home with the dancers from the club. I had myself more than once. The girls were severely hot and more than accommodating. Not to mention flexible.
I shook my head. To be honest, I felt kind of disgusting the last time I woke up next to a girl whose makeup was smeared all over the pillow case. And the sheets. And my cock. When I was drunk, then yeah, I didn't mind so much. But after...
Lately all the girls I boned made me feel that way. The strippers, the groupies, the co-eds. I'd even picked up a housewife at a bar just a week ago. Well, to be honest. She'd picked me up.
But something about it was leaving me unsatisfied.
More than unsatisfied.
I felt fucking dirty.
If I was honest, I preferred the natural look. Like that gorgeous brunette in my economy class. She might be a freshman, but she had all the right equipment. Huge green eyes, a cute nose, gorgeous lips, and the best tits I'd seen in my entire life.
My God those tits could stop traffic. Not to mention her legs were about a mile long. They'd look nice wrapped around me as I drove in and out of her sweet little box.
I adjusted my junk. I was hard just thinking about it.
The dancer walked towards me with a question in her eyes.
"I'll pass."
I wasn't drunk enough to enjoy this tonight. Even after winning yet another game. I should be riding high but instead I just wanted to be alone.
The thing was, I was hardly fucking ever alone.
My teammates, the fans, girls. I was the center of attention. Non-stop.
Growing up, I'd had the opposite problem. My mom had worked two jobs. Sometimes three. And we'd still been dirt poor.
Fuck, poorer than that.
Mud poor.
If you'd ever seen the neighborhood I grew up in, it was probably on the news. Some reporter talking about crime rates. Or how depressed the south side of Chicago was. And how everyone who lived there was either a vandal or a hoodlum.
Or both.
I'd like to say that I hadn't been one of those criminals but that would be a lie. I'd jacked car stereos, bikes, anything. The only thing that had saved me from ending up in prison was football.
The Sport of Kings.
Look at me now. I was the top of the heap. The King of Kings.
And I was still fucking covered in mud.
GRIND
Joanna Blake
Something wet slid against my ear. I brushed it away, still half asleep. It grazed my skin again and I rolled away from it. I tried to wipe it off on the pillow beneath my head, grimacing at the slimy sensation. Now I was awake and I didn't want to be.
Damn.
I opened my eyes to see a woman bending over me. Her long blond hair brushed my face. I turned my head away.
"Cut it out."
She sat up, glaring at me.
"You didn't seem to mind last night."
Normally, I would have soothed her. Called her by name. Trouble is, I had no fucking clue who the hell she was.
I looked around.
I had no idea where I was either.
"Fuck me."
She grinned at me, tossing that long bleached hair over her shoulder.
"I already did."
Belatedly I noticed that she was wearing some serious lingerie. Black and cream lace. It matched her bedroom. Her very expensive looking bedroom.