Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)(39)

I move faster, harder. Suddenly, Will lifts me to my feet and kisses me hard and deep. He’s gripping my shoulders hard, his kiss is desperate.

“I haven’t been inside you in seventy-two hours, Megan. I’m not coming in your sweet mouth.” He spins me to face the shower wall. “Hands on the wall.”

He pulls my hips back and pushes his fingers through my folds to my clit. I gasp when he brushes my metal.

“Oh, Will.”

“That’s right. This is mine, Megan. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

He pushes two fingers inside me and twists them, then pulls them out to wet my already swollen lips.

“So wet,” he mutters.

“Will?”

“Yes, love.”

A chill runs up my spine at that word and I grin.

“I really need you inside me.”

“I’ll get there, babe. God, you feel good.”

“I’ll feel better when you’re inside me.”

I hear him chuckle, and then we both gasp when the head of his cock brushes my sex. He gently pushes in, all the way.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh God, yes. More than okay.”

“This is going to be rough, honey.” His voice is tight as he starts to move, really move, frantically. He grabs my hair in one fist and slaps my ass with the other, startling me. “God, you’re so f*cking good.”

“Oh my God, Will!”

He pulls out suddenly and spins me to face him, plants his hands on my ass and lifts me against the wall. I wrap my arms and legs around him, but he takes my hands and holds them both above my head with one of his, leans into me, and buries himself inside me again.

“So good,” he mutters and pins me with his bright blue eyes. “Mine,” he repeats and then buries his face in my neck, kissing and biting and I feel my orgasm pushing up through me.

My legs tense and I push against Will’s hands, but he holds strong.

“That’s right, let go,” he commands, and I do, hard and fast, spasming around his beautiful cock.

“Ah f*ck!” His jaw is clenched and he throws his head back and falls over the edge with me.

He rests his forehead against mine as we recover. “Do you work today?”

“No.”

“Good. You’re staying here with me, all day and night.”

“Good plan.”





Chapter Thirteen


“Is this really what you want to do all day?” I ask, lounging at the end of his couch. I’m in one of his old team jerseys and his boxer-briefs, since I don’t have any clothes here, and my hair is up in a knot on my head, no makeup.

Dear God, I must look horrific.

I glance over at Will, on the opposite side of the long, plush black leather couch. It’s really unfair that he looks so good in just basketball shorts and an old t-shirt.

“Why, is there somewhere you wanted to go?” he asks and flips through channels on his uber-huge television. We are in his media room, full of plush furniture, the outrageously enormous television – dear God, is he blind? Who needs a TV this big? – football memorabilia, a wet bar, a pool table. Basically a big ol’ man cave where boys can hang out and do boy things.

“No, I’m just surprised.” I lean back and plop my feet in his lap, getting more comfortable. He immediately wraps one big hand around the arch of my foot and rubs with his thumb and I sigh in contentment.

“It’s nice to relax once in a while. We haven’t really just hung out together much.” He offers me a soft smile, and my stomach flips, just a little. Gosh, he’s pretty to look at.

And he’s right. It feels good to be lazy. I’m still super tired from last night at work, and just lounging in Will’s extraordinary home with him all day is relaxing and perfect.

“Are we okay,” he murmurs, drawing my attention. His eyes are sober, and he’s watching me closely.

I turn my head to the side and offer him a half smile. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

He just nods and flips the channels to a show about whales on the Discovery channel.

“I’m hungry,” he announces.

“You’re always hungry,” I laugh and kick his thigh gently. “You just had a huge sandwich an hour ago.”

“Let’s order in pizza.”

“Let’s go get the pizza and bring it back,” I suggest.

“I like having you here, in my jersey, in my house, where I don’t have to share you and you don’t have to share me and we can just be.”

“Be what?” I ask.

“Us.” He pulls me into his lap and kisses me senseless, plunging his fingers into my hair and moving those amazing lips over mine. Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pushes me back onto the couch and reaches for his phone. “I’m calling for pizza.”



*



“You are such a f*cking cheater!” Will is glaring at me from his position on the floor, his back against the couch, xBox controller in his hands. God, he’s adorable when he’s irritated with me.

“I am not!”

“All you’re doing is pushing all the buttons at once and waving the controller all about,” he accuses me. He’s right. I have no idea how to play this shit, and making him crazy is hilarious.