The Game (That Girl, #2)(47)

Levi pushes against me, and I feel he is hard and ready.

“Do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about f*cking you, Jazzy?”

“No,” I reply, pushing him back a bit. “Let’s do this the right way, though.”

The limo is still moving slowly, allowing me to wedge my way out from his grasp. I slowly pull down my pants, full well knowing Levi is watching each of my moves, but I act as if I’m the only one around. Then I slowly drag down my panties, but stop just before my knees. My fingers glide up his jersey, unsnapping my bra and dragging it off. I toss it over to Levi, finally making eye contact.

“Panties. Off now.”

“What? These things?” I tease.

The music is loud enough we can barely hear each other. I watch Levi reach toward me and expect him to pull me to him, but instead he rips my panties from my body in one pull. As hot as the action is, I giggle at the two of us playing cat and mouse in the back of a moving vehicle.

Bending down, I know exactly what I want next. I won’t verbalize it to him, but I’ve been fantasizing about doing this to him for days, dying to know his feel and taste in my mouth. Before I can get to my knees, I’m under Levi again, and he’s seated above me.

“Hey,” I squeal.

“This is mine.”

He pulls up the jersey, exposing me, and then attacks each nipple with his mouth. The feel of his hot, wet mouth devouring me sets me on fire. My hips start bucking up to meet him.

“Stop, Levi. Stop, please.”

He pulls his head up with an awful devilish grin full of satisfaction. His hands disappear, and the next thing I know he’s pushing into me.

“Fuck, how am I going to ever live without this?” he growls, throwing his head back as he sinks the rest of the way in.

I grab his arms planted on either side of my head, clinging to them and trying to grind up harder into him.

“Fuck me, Levi.”

My words awaken the beast in him. Levi finds a grueling rhythm, slamming into me relentlessly. Untwisting my hands from his arms, I grab his face and slam it down onto my lips. I devour his mouth as he continues to f*ck me. Nothing about this is sweet or romantic; it’s raw, full of need, all consuming. The moment he growls I know he’s close, and it only inflames me further.

“Go, Levi.”

With my words, I feel him let go inside of me, and I follow him. Levi begins to kiss me more softly, slowing his pace on my lips.

“I didn’t think anything could ever beat the dock,” he admits.

A satisfied gasp of air escapes me.

“I take it you agree?”

“The best ever, Levi Wilks; that was the best ever.”





Chapter 12





Jazzy



The past three days with Levi have been the best of my life. I’ve been by his side while training. I’m blown away how different he looks. For the first time, I’ve seen the star athlete everyone loves to watch. The man is a gazelle on the field and can sling a ball like no other. I love playing catch with him and keep begging for a “zinger,” as I call it, but he won’t. He swears he’d probably break my fingers.

I found out Rusty is the closest thing to a best friend Levi has. They go everywhere together, he lives with Levi back in Dallas, and has his back around every corner. I call him Levi’s little bitch because basically that’s what he is. I guess they played college ball together, and Rusty never made it to the pros, but he never left Levi’s side.

We’ve spent the last three evenings eating and then playing catch in the huge back yard of his condo. He’s trying to teach me all kinds of routes to run, so he can practice certain patterns. He tried explaining the differences in his throws and how it feels on his neck when he completes the different types of passes. Lynlee would’ve eaten this shit up; she loves all this football lingo. Levi ends up getting frustrated with my lack of knowledge and pattern running, and ends up throwing me over his shoulder and hauling my ass off to the bedroom.

Tonight is our last night together before heading back to Fort Collins. I ordered some takeout so I wouldn’t have to waste any time on cooking after our workout and before our game of toss. Levi loves food, so ordering for him is super simple, plus Rusty is always there to put in his two cents and knows everything about Levi. It’s been so tempting to ask him twenty questions, but I’ve refrained.

“God damn, Jazzy, are you trying to kill me?”

I turn to see Levi all sweaty from his workout. He’s been hitting the gym twice a day, building up his stamina. He always works out in black gym shorts and ends up shirtless. The man is so chiseled and defined. His torso might be my favorite part of his body. It’s long and lean, and my favorite part to grab on to.

“What?”

“That outfit.”

“Oh, this?” I ask, feigning innocence.

Early today I went shopping for some new tight silver booty shorts and a new Dallas t-shirt. It was a bitch to find one in Denver. However, after several stores, I finally found the perfect one. It’s a youth medium, making it the best belly shirt ever. I didn’t have time to do anything with my hair, so it’s just in my signature side braid. I figured Levi wouldn’t mind, since it seems he’s always messing it up anyway.

Levi makes his way straight to me, not veering off so much as an inch in any other direction. His determined swagger and f*ck me eyes make me giddy. He has me up and on the counter, trying to rip my shirt off. I lock my legs around his middle and try to pull his head up.