Out of Bounds

Dani: Sooooo . . . that idea you floated last night . . .

Drew: The one where you show up at my house naked? Say that comes true tonight, please.

Dani: Glad you’re still game for that.

Drew: Game for you is exactly what I am. But, by idea, did you mean the idea to play whack-a-mole again?

Dani: Yes, sort of. More like what it would take to play whack-a-mole with you.

Drew: I like where this is going. Especially because it sounds dirty. But also, sweet. Continue.

Dani: You said you wanted to make a go of it. That you thought Stuart was pleased. Turns out your instincts aren’t just good on the field.

Drew: I rock in general, don’t you know that? But . . . be a little more specific. He’s pleased about what? The cafeteria at the stadium? The newest press release he wrote? Or . . . ?

Dani: He gave me the thumbs-up to . . . well, to go out with you. I told him I kind of liked you.

Drew: Holy shit. You did that for us? You talked to Stuart?

I give him the quick version of how it all went down, then send one more text.

Dani: Please tell me you aren’t pissed.

Drew: I’m fucking ecstatic. You are one badass, ballsy babe, and I’m crazy for you. And what you did makes me even crazier for you.

Dani: Whew. I’ll take that brand of crazy.

Drew: You deserve about a dozen orgasms. Good thing is, I know just the man who can deliver them.

Dani: Make it a baker’s dozen please.

Drew: Consider it done.





Chapter Eleven

Dani

There is a dinner at a cafe by the ocean. There is a walk from the beach to my house. There are delicious conversations along the way.

All that is part of tonight. But with the electric chemistry between us, there is mostly a low sexual hum in the air. A vibration between us that crackles and sparks, and we both know it’s about to combust the second we reach my front door.

Because there is permission.

In some ways, I feel foolish that we were so cautious. But in other ways, I don’t feel foolish for having played it—mostly—safe. We were able to get to know each other. We were able to talk and to chat. Sure, we skirted the line in his car, and we toyed with it again on the phone. But as we reach my porch, I know it’s different now than the last time we were here, and that difference makes me feel good about this choice. I unlock the green front door to my home and stumble inside with Drew Erickson. His hands are on my waist, his lips are on my shoulders, and the man hasn’t been able to keep his paws off me since . . . well, since this date started two hours ago.

Now, we both know what’s coming next.

Us.

The door snaps shut.

“Wanted this for so long,” he says, his voice smoky in my ear as he smothers my neck in kisses, his touch making the world around me glow. This is the definition of swooning. This is the meaning of weak in the knees. Look it up. It’s what he’s doing to me. My neck is his playground, and he covers it in caresses, gentle kisses, then hungrier nips. I never would have pegged him as a man so keen on kissing. But then, Drew Erickson has been surprising me from day one, when he bonked his head on a surfboard.

My stomach flips as he presses his lips to the hollow of my throat, then backs me up to my couch. I sink down on it, and he follows me, his big body pressed against mine.

Holy smokes.

He feels spectacular covering me like this even though we’re still clothed. I can only imagine what it will be like to be skin to skin with this man. My mind is a haze of lust and desire as his lips travel down my chest, and he tugs on my silky tank top. I sit up, pulling it off, then he works open my bra.

He groans when my breasts are free. “You’ve been hiding these beauties from me,” he says appreciatively as he cups them, playing with my flesh, pinching my nipples.

My hips buck up when he does that, and a burst of pleasure races straight to my core. “No more hide and seek now,” I say.

His eyes are wild with naughtiness as he kisses and sucks. He bites down, driving me wild, turning me on even more, and I’m already well past broiling. Then I reconsider my assessment when he takes off my skirt and yanks off my panties. I’m on fire as he drags one finger down my wet center.

“Oh God,” I moan.

“So slick and wet on my hand. I want to taste all this sweetness on my tongue.” He pulls my hips to the edge of my couch, kneels down, and spreads my legs wide. His gaze drifts to mine, as he growls, “I’ve gotten off to this image so many times. Now, I want you to come on my face.”