Play Maker(12)

The elevator dinged and the doors opened on my floor. I was still holding her hand. Clearing my throat, I gestured towards the left, where my suite was. As we walked, I placed my hand on the small of her back and it felt right, like it belonged there.

“I hope my teammates didn’t give you too much trouble tonight,” I said, thinking of how confident she had seemed behind the bar all night. “They can get a bit rowdy.”

“They were no trouble at all,” she told me. “I love working parties like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes seemed to sparkle. “There’s nothing better than helping a group of people have fun.”

“That talent of yours definitely comes in handy, then.”

“It certainly does,” Nicole told me. “And people love talking to bartenders. I get all the juicy gossip and best stories. And advice.” She gave me a playful wink. “You wouldn’t believe what people say about professional soccer players.”

I placed a hand on my chest as if I had been wounded. “Soccer players? Look, just because you Americans decided to call something ‘football’ doesn’t mean the rest of the world is going to do the same.”

Nicole laughed. “And so they were right.”

“Right about what?”

“That the easiest way to get a football player riled up is to call him a soccer player,” she teased as we reached my hotel room.

“Trust me,” I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “That’s the not the easiest way to get this footballer riled up.”

She laughed. “What position do you play?” she asked.

“Forward,” I told her.

“That’s for damn sure,” she winked.

I reached around her, and unlocked the door.

When we entered the suite, I expected the usual reaction women had when I brought them up to the kind of hotel rooms I tended to be booked in. I expected the same wide-eyed, slack jawed astonishment that I had probably given the first time I had entered one of these rooms. But Nicole didn’t even seem to notice the room. Nope, she was still smiling up at me.

It was a smile that had a touch of wickedness to it. That lift of her eyebrow, that quirk of a dimple in her cheek. I had to bite back a groan. I was ready to fall headfirst into the glory that was this woman.

But I wasn’t about to rush it. As far as I was concerned, we had all night and if we could catch our breath, all morning as well. Besides, I had asked her up here for a drink, hadn’t I? And in my experience most women preferred a drink to help them relax, to get them in the mood. Though Nicole didn’t look like she needed any help in that area. I had never met a woman so comfortable and confident in her own skin. It was unbelievably sexy.

“My bar is nothing like yours,” I gestured toward the still decently stocked mini bar. “But can I get you anything?”

“Sure,” she said, not really answering the question. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” She lifted a hand to her hair. “I’m a little beer-stained, if you know what I mean.”

I gestured towards the enormous bathroom, and as Nicole passed me, she placed a hand on my chest. I felt the heat of her palm throughout my entire body. It burned and it burned good. It felt like I had been waiting for this moment for years, instead of only a few hours.

“I won’t be long,” she murmured, her voice throaty and full of promise.

Fuck yeah. The click of the door closing pulled me out of my temporary haze. I shook my head roughly, trying to clear my head, but this woman was a heady drug. One I was happy to indulge in. I headed towards the bar to pour myself a glass of whiskey, when I remembered that Nicole hadn’t told me what she wanted.

“I never got your drink order,” I called out, hoping she could hear me in the bathroom.

“Surprise me.” Her voice was muffled through the wall.

Considering how well she had proven at guessing my drink of choice earlier, I sensed this was a bit of a test. A playful one, but one I planned on winning regardless. After all, I liked to win. And I usually did.

I scanned my selection of booze. Nicole had taken the whiskey I offered her at the bar, but I didn’t think that was her favorite drink. Though she seemed like a girl who would have no qualms doing tequila shots, I didn’t think they would be her first choice either. Probably not gin, considering how many martinis she had been making that evening. And vodka was far too ordinary for someone like her. No, she struck me as the kind of woman that liked to savor her drinks. And hopefully her men. Then I spotted the perfect choice.

I was pouring a glass when I heard the bathroom door open. A drink in each hand, I turned, speaking before I saw her.

“I hope you like—”

The words died on my tongue as I took in the sight of her. Her blonde hair had been released from its bun and tumbled down her shoulders in loose waves. Gone was the vest. And the pants. Nicole stood in front of me in nothing but her black shirt, which barely covered her incredible ass, the buttons undone to her navel. All I could see was creamy pale skin against dark satin. My brain completely short-circuited.

She stepped forward, her bare feet sinking into the carpet, and took the glass from my extended hand. Sloshing the amber liquid around, she sniffed it first and then took a small sip. Her eyes closed as she let out a moan of pleasure. I nearly dropped my own glass at the sound.