The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel(41)

It felt so good, my eyes drifted closed as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his neck. When he slipped two fingers inside of me, a throaty moan fell from my lips.

His other hand turned my chin to the side, giving him access to my mouth. Crushing his lips to mine, his kiss was wild and shamelessly hungry. I loved that he wasn’t gentle, his actions expressing emotion and need. He cupped my breasts and squeezed, pinching my nipples so hard it bordered on pain. I threaded my fingers through his wet hair and pulled, wanting him even closer.

We were both panting, unable to get enough, when he released my mouth, his teeth tugging on my lip as we separated. “Bend.” With his hand on my back, he eased me forward, folding me at the waist. “Hold on to the sides.” My hands curled around the granite sides of the vanity, his hands curled around mine. “Look up.” My eyes rose to catch the reflection staring back at me from the mirror. Brody was right: the level was perfect with the extra four inches from my shoes. My skin was flushed, my hair was disheveled and wild, and my eyes were full of blatant desire.

“Fucking beautiful.”

He rubbed the length of himself along my wetness a few times before pushing inside. Once he made sure I was ready for him, he did exactly what he promised. Fucked me hard until I came just as hard. Then he seated himself deep inside of me and released with a carnal roar.

A few minutes later, Brody scooped me up and carried me to bed, slipping in behind me. I snuggled back against him, and his body molded around mine. “Mmm . . . I could get used to this kind of welcome home.”

“That’s good, baby. Because I threw out the vibrator in your end table drawer.”

I froze, unsure if he was kidding or not.

Brody chuckled and pulled me closer. “Relax, I’m joking. But good to know one is in there. I’d like to use it on you sometime. Better yet, I think I’d like to watch you use it on yourself.”

“You have a one-track mind.”

“I do. All Delilah’s *. All the time.”

I elbowed him, and we both laughed. It felt good to have Brody in my bed. We talked for more than an hour in the dark, catching up on the last few days. It felt so . . . normal. Domestic. Natural. Right.

It was almost midnight when we settled, and I began to feel sleepy. “Brody?”

“Hmm?” He kissed my shoulder.

“You’re spooning me? Brody Easton spoons?”

“Only you, baby. But don’t be surprised if you get woken up by my fork later. There’s an ass I plan to take still. I’m far from done with you.”

I inhaled deeply and smiled, realizing I was far from done with him, too.

Over the next week, we spent every night together. Some nights I made him dinner while we argued over sports; other nights we ate out of take out containers sitting on the living room floor while we learned about each other—favorite music, favorite movies, foods we both disliked. Thanks to Brody’s interesting question choices, we also knew what costumes we wore for Halloween at age eight and what animal we’d choose if we could be turned into one (Brody would be a lion. I’d be a dolphin). But I ended every day wrapped in Brody’s arms.

Mr. CUM had been pissed that I hadn’t brought the locker room story to WMBC. There was no denying he was right when he reamed into me on how my personal relationship with Brody had influenced my judgment on reporting a story. Although two days later he calmed when he realized there was a way to exploit that personal relationship. Brody agreed to an exclusive interview if his team made playoffs. That got me off the hot seat with my boss—for now.

One morning, Brody left early for his first practice after his suspension. My red throw pillows were strewn all over the living room floor from when we’d gone at it on the couch the night before. I picked up the two monogrammed red pillows, then the brown rectangular one I’d had since high school. Tracing my fingers along the script that spelled out LOVE, I briefly thought about the boy who’d given it to me so many years ago. I felt guilty for starting to let Drew go, but it was a decision I knew needed to be made. Too many years of my life had passed in a blur since the accident. This was the first time I didn’t want to stand by and watch more pass. I wanted to live them.

After a long shower, I got myself ready for work. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, zipping up my knee-high leather boots, when the small framed picture of Drew that sat on my nightstand caught my eye. Brody had never said a word about it, even though it was impossible for him to have missed it. I looked down at the first boy I fell in love with and closed my eyes, thinking of all of the good memories. Up until now, I had always thought of Drew as just my love, not my first love. Realizing that he may have been my first but would likely not be my last was a monumental moment for me. I stood, holding the photo, then did something I never expected to do—I packed the photo into a box inside my closet. Drew would always have a piece of my heart, but there was finally room for someone else.





Chapter 20


Brody

After practice, I swung by my place and grabbed the wooden checkers set I’d bought for Marlene’s birthday. It wasn’t the exact one she used to have—this one was nicer—but it looked similar. On my way, I stopped at the florist and picked her up a bunch of colorful flowers.

“Morning, ya old bastard.” I smiled at Grouper.

He scrunched up his forehead and looked at me funny. “What the hell are you so happy about, dipshit?”