Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Laura Kaye,
Erotic Romance,
Football,
monica murphy,
Entangled,
brazen,
fake relationship,
Game for It,
quarterback,
Karen Erickson,
Game for Tonight,
Lauren Blakely
they were going to be okay or not? He had no clue, having never been in a situation like this one before.
Tonight with Aubrey, so far, had been pretty spectacular. Could this really continue, though? Could they be together like normal people who don’t care about each other beyond a working relationship during the day and then spend their nights getting naked together? Did she want to continue on like that?
Did he?
“We’ll be fine,” he finally said, though his words didn’t seem to ease the worry lines on her forehead. “I’m a big boy—”
She snorted, cutting him off. “Isn’t that the truth?”
A chuckle escaped him. “And you’re a big girl. We’re grown-ups. We can handle this.”
“I can if you can,” she said solemnly as she reached up to trace his bottom lip with her finger. “But we can’t tell anyone.”
He nodded. “No one.”
“This is our secret.”
“Our secret,” he agreed, nipping the tip of her finger with his teeth.
She smiled and lifted up, her mouth right at his, her breath warm against his lips as she spoke. “So we need to play nice.”
“I always play nice,” he said, his hand curving around her breast, his thumb brushing back and forth across her nipple.
Her breath caught in her throat, her lips falling open just as he was about to kiss her. “Well, maybe you should start playing dirty,” she murmured before he took her mouth in a deep, hot kiss.
Just before he proceeded to play dirty with her for the rest of the night.
Chapter Five
“An emergency lunch?” Willow Cavanaugh sat down across from Aubrey at the little deli that was a few miles from the Hawks stadium. Close enough for Aubrey to dash over to but far enough that no one else from the Hawks franchise would eat there.
Besides, it was almost two o’clock. A late lunch had been on the surprise agenda, since she’d been swamped from the moment she’d gotten to work, earlier that morning. Thankfully, Willow had been in town, free—and most likely curious—so she’d readily agreed to meet her.
Aubrey was in desperate need of advice. And she had no one else to turn to. She wasn’t local, so she hadn’t really gotten a chance to make new friends beyond the people she worked with, and she worked mostly with men. She thought she could call Willow, Nick Hamilton’s girlfriend, a semifriend. Maybe coming to Willow in her time of need would bring them closer together.
God, she didn’t know. All she knew was her mind was spinning and had been going on a continuous loop since she’d been with Flynn two nights ago. And she hadn’t really talked to him since.
Two. Nights. Ago. When she’d taken his virginity.
God, it sounded sordid in her head. She couldn’t imagine what it might sound like if she said the words out loud. How would Willow react? Would she laugh? It was kind of crazy, thinking the very hot, very gorgeous Flynn had been a virgin. She could still hardly wrap her mind around it. Why had he held on to it for so long?
And why, when he finally gave it up, was it to her? She didn’t think she’d ever taken someone’s virginity before.
So the night had been a first for the both of them.
Ugh.
After many adventurous hours of exploring each other, they’d finally, reluctantly gotten dressed, and Flynn had taken her to the stadium so she could pick up her car. Like a gentleman, he’d walked her to where it had been parked, looking adorably rumpled in a pair of blue sweats with the Hawks emblem on them and a Hawks T-shirt, his hair a mess, stubble on his cheeks.
She’d grabbed his face like a starving woman and kissed him. Muscular men in sweats shouldn’t be allowed to roam the earth. They were her kryptonite, her crack, her addiction. Those sweats rode way too low on his hips, and when he’d first gotten out of the car, he’d stretched his arms above his head, offering her a glimpse of that washboard stomach.
Dead. DOA. Her brain cells had exploded one by one, and all she’d
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