Scored(40)

“At least one of us can.”

“I haven’t kissed my girlfriend hello yet,” I say to distract her.

“Oh.” She tips up her chin. “By all means, don’t let me stop you.”

Smiling, I kiss her as her arms go around me. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hey.”

“Want to have a sleepover with me?” I ask, teasing her jaw with my mouth.

On a sigh, she says, “I didn’t bring any pajamas.”

“We’ll match,” I remind her.

I work my way down her throat, pausing where her pulse is beating wildly. “I can stay.”

“The entire night in my bed. With me inside you.” I bite the side of her neck.

“Oh, God.” She tilts her head to one side to give me better access. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

“Want me to stop?” I pull away slightly, but she grabs the back of my neck and tries to force me back to where I was before. “I need to know what I’m in for tonight, bright eyes. I need to know what plays to make or if I’ll be riding pine.”

“I want to ride you,” she says after a beat. “Is that clear enough?”

She still has the jersey between us, like a barrier, but I don’t give a damn because I know that by the end of the night, I’ll have Paige in my bed, naked and wet.

“Very clear.” I press a kiss against her skin and force myself to put some distance between us. “Let’s go eat. I need fuel for later.”





CHAPTER 15




Paige


Dallas doesn’t bring up our sleepover again. Instead, he brings me an ultra-soft Renegades t-shirt to wear and feeds me in between bites for himself while he shares insider stories about the night’s game.

“I almost got ejected for getting in the ref’s face,” he admits, not an ounce of shame on his face. “Wasn’t my finest moment, but that call was bullshit. Coach made me sit down.”

“He made you sit down?” I can’t imagine anyone forcing Dallas to do anything.

“Incentive helps.” He cocks his head to one side, looking for all the world like a mischievous little boy who has gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “He said he’d make me come in to watch film on Tuesday. Couldn’t let that happen.”

“Because of me?”

“You’re the best incentive I can think of.” He tips back a bottle of beer, and I watch his throat work as he swallows. Why is that so sexy for a man to do?

“That’s really sweet of you to say.”

He winks. “I know.”

Oh, Lord. My cocky man is back. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Only a few?”

He feeds me the last tortilla chip. “A dozen things.”

I chew while he starts to clean up the empty plates and containers. He groans a little when he reaches across the island.

Quickly swallowing, I ask, “Are you okay?”

“Mostly. Got nailed by a linebacker. Didn’t even see him coming.” He slices his gaze my way, his biceps bulging as he cleans. “Did you happen to catch his number?”

My cheeks start to burn. “I think I was watching Dance Moms at the time. I flipped back and forth between commercials.”

“How much of my game did you watch?”

“The best parts?”

His lips twitch. “Would that be the beginning and the end?”

“Don’t you think they’re the best parts?”

He slides in close, nipping at my ear with his teeth. I gasp. “The middle is pretty interesting. The middle is what gets us to the end. Some might say that if we were to skip the middle, then the end would never happen. No one would score, baby, and that would be a damn shame.”

“Life’s not all about scoring.”

“It is if that’s what you’re good at doing.” He nuzzles my hair. “How do you smell so good after eating what we did?”

“It’s the shampoo.”

“You should leave some here or tell me the brand so I can order it. Tell me your favorite bath stuff, too. Whatever girlie shit you like.”

I hold up a hand. “Hold your horses, mister. I’m not moving in with you.”

He laughs. “Who said anything about moving in with me? This is only our fourth date, Paige.”

It’s all I can do not to strangle him. I don’t think my hands would fit around his neck anyhow. “You’re the one who said to tell you what toiletries I liked.”

“And?”

“And that’s something you’d do when um… you’re moving in,” I finish lamely. What am I arguing about? Dallas didn’t say he had a drawer for me, or for my clothes to be delivered and hung in his closet.

“Or that’s something you do when you want to make sure your woman has what she needs once you’ve taken care of her.” He leans against his sub-zero fridge, smirking a little. “I’d suggest you leave a toothbrush, but I’m afraid you’d take that to mean I wanted to knock you up.”

“Moving in and getting me pregnant. No marriage in there?” I wait for him to answer, thinking I’ve backed him into a corner. A weird corner of my own making.