Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(65)

I wasn’t gonna argue with that.

We went from shivering to sweating over the next thirty minutes as Ramsey turned me inside out with his mouth, then turned me around and fucked me against the fireplace, the heat from the fire licking over my skin rivaled by the heat of Ramsey’s body as he thrust into me until he cried out.

When we got back to his place, I stopped in to grab a quick shower before heading back to Houston’s. At the door, he pulled me back for another kiss before I could get over the threshold. “Damn,” I teased, nipping his lower lip. “We should jump in that pond more often.”

“You growled at dinner when Houston touched me. That was…interesting.”

“Told you, it was gristle.”

“There wasn’t any gristle in that turkey, and you know it.”

“Gristle,” I repeated, then peered at him, his hooded expression, lips damp from kissing me. “Did you like it? I mean, if it had been an actual growl? Which it wasn’t.”

He considered for a second. “I just made you fire, sucked your cock, then fucked you until you came a second time, so I guess I did.” Then the smirky bastard winked.

I fisted his shirt and shoved him against the doorjamb, kissing him again.

I had one of those impromptu epiphanies as his lips moved over mine, the kind that smacked you upside the head. I’d had a schoolboy crush on Ramsey. The hot, cool football player, my older brother’s best friend. And what I’d stupidly failed to realize was that once I’d gotten to know the below-the-surface Ramsey—the guy who simultaneously pumped me up, kept me in check, shared moments of vulnerability, and was apparently way more fun than I’d ever given him credit for—my old feelings for him now seemed like some superficial bullshit.

I’d been hoping the crush would fade with time and familiarity. Instead, it’d blown up into something dangerously…more. Something dangerously close to love.

We both froze at a noise, and I instinctively jumped back, putting distance between us as Ramsey cocked his head at something over my shoulder.





21





RAMSEY





My heart punched at my chest like a battering ram, my ears feeling slightly echoey. Christ, I hadn’t even been thinking where I was, that we were in my open doorway, making out like I wasn’t closeted and Coach hadn’t warned me to keep this under wraps. Almost getting caught by one of the worst possible people who could catch us was so not being careful.

“What’s wrong with you, Warner? Why are you standing there looking at me like an idiot?”

That was the dear ole dad I knew. His words shocked me out of my stupor. Not completely, because my palms were sweaty and I couldn’t stop the question running laps in my brain: had he seen us kissing?

Somehow I managed a, “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

Dad’s gaze took Garrett in, then me again. Our hair was wet from the shower. His lips were swollen from the hard press of my mouth. Could my dad tell? Did he know what we’d been doing?

“Thanks for letting me hit your gym.” Thankfully, Garrett had an excuse at the ready because I clearly didn’t.

“No problem. See you at practice.”

Garrett took me in, his gaze asking, Do you need me to stay? He lingered for just a second more before giving me a small nod and turning away.

As soon as he rounded the corner of the house for my driveway, Dad opened his big-ass mouth again. “He looks at you like he worships you. Ridiculous.”

And there went my pulse, skyrocketing to the damn moon again. Logically, I knew he meant as a football player, but considering I’d had my tongue down Garrett’s throat just before he’d showed up, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if it was possible he thought it was more.

I stepped back when Dad bulldozed his way into my living room.

Today had been damn near perfect. I always loved spending time with the McRaes. They made me see what it was like to have a normal family. One that loved each other, and even if they sometimes fought, they would always have one another’s back. A family who also loved to tease the shit out of each other, like Houston had done with Garrett today.

I liked Jealous Garrett.

Maybe that made me an egotistical asshole, but I waited for a second to see if I cared, and nope, I had zero issues with being an egotistical asshole.

Now’s not the time. Garrett could take over my thoughts in no time flat, but apparently, my good day was over, and instead, I got a dose of reality in the form of my father, who had a habit of bringing a shitstorm down on me just when I was getting used to the feeling of nothing but sunshine on my skin.

“Nice of you to want to spend time with your father on Thanksgiving.”

“The father who only cares about me because of what I can give him? That’s not a parent.”

He ignored my comment, walking right over to my bar and pouring himself a whiskey.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

“You spent your day with that kid?”

“Yeah. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we stopped having holidays together when I was just a kid. Once Mom died, you were done with it, even when I still lived at home with you.”

Like he so conveniently did, he disregarded that statement too. “What’s with you and him anyway? I thought you and Houston were tight.”