Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 66865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I sigh, walking toward the car I borrowed from Tessa to get here, the beige Camry she’s been sweet enough to loan me from time to time to make my life easier.
It’ll be a few more years before I’ll be able to save enough to afford a car.
“Teddy! Wait up.”
I pause at Kip’s voice, at the sound of his cleats clicking across the pavement in my direction.
“Where you goin’?”
I look him up and down.
“How are you so dirty?” are the first words out of my mouth by way of greeting, because honestly, he’s filthy. Positively covered in dirt and grime. “It’s not even raining—how are you caked with mud?”
Those giant shoulders shrug. “Don’t know.”
He looks like a Viking warrior, tall and imposing and blond. Beard knotted with that rubber band, so it’s out of his way, hair falling out all over the damn place.
He’s a Viking who just did battle in a yellow and black jersey.
Feet spread apart, he’s breathing heavily and regarding me under the now illuminated street lamps. We’ve been here so long it’s gotten dark, the parking lot beginning to empty as players and spectators head home.
“So…where you going?” he asks again, hands going up behind his head. Biceps bulging.
“Home?”
“Why?”
Uh. Was home not the right answer? “I have to return Tessa’s car, but, I mean, I don’t have plans to do anything.”
“You’re not coming over?”
He wants me to come over? He saw me last night and this morning—isn’t that enough? “I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
“I don’t have any plans either.”
“Of course not—it’s not Friday night.” I find myself winking at him flirtatiously.
“We could go see a movie.” His legs are still spread apart, the cold air causing his breath—and mine—to puff out in a slow stream of steam.
“After the match you just played? You must be tired.” And beat, if the blood on his jersey is any indication, the scratch on his knee and the gash in his lip…
Jesus, he looks like hell.
Like a total brute.
And I kind of like it.
“Or we could order a pizza, ice my leg, and sit around doing nothing,” he offers, hands still clasped behind his head. It makes his chest look wider and harder, mesh jersey stretched taught across it.
Damn he’s in good shape.
“That’s what I usually do,” he goes on.
“We could.”
His arms come down, hands falling to his sides, settling the matter. “I’ll follow you so you can drop off Tessa’s car then take you to my place.”
He says it casually, as if it’s that easy, like we’ve done it a million times before.
“All right.”
“Cool.”
Cool.
SECOND SATURDAY (After Game)
“Go ahead. Touch it.”
Kip
Something is on Teddy’s mind; I can tell by the way she keeps looking at me. Small, quick, furtive glances when she thinks I’m not watching her—which I am.
She’s been flushed since we got to my place, a ball of nervous energy I can’t quite figure out the cause of.
It’s not like she hasn’t been here before.
It’s not like I haven’t touched her tits or had my tongue in her pussy.
I plop an ice pack on my swollen knee at the same time my eyes drop to her breasts. Her flat stomach. Legs tucked neatly under her ass as she sits beside me on the living room floor.
She moves just then, uncurling herself and stretching out, wiggling her toes when she extends them out in front of her. The nails are painted a pretty bright pink.
“Nice toes.”
She wiggles them again. “Thanks.”
Nice toes. Nice tits. Nice…everything.
It’s a damn shame it was dark when I went down on her last night; I’m dying to see her naked, dying to see her spread out on my bed again. I want to hear her moan and feel her grabbing at my hair.
We plowed through an entire large pizza over two hours ago, and neither of us are watching the movie we selected, some comedy about some old guys who play tag blah blah blah who gives a shit.
“Should we watch something else?” I offer, bored.
“Nah. It’s getting late.”
It is.
I flip my phone to check the time: 12:29.
“I should get going,” Teddy says hesitantly, fiddling with the hem on her basic, gray T-shirt.
“Or…you could spend the night.” I throw her a lazy smile. “Heat’s fixed.” Meaning: neither of us will freeze if we get naked.
She pauses. “It is fixed, isn’t it?”
“Yup. Did it all by myself, remember?”
“So handy,” she teases. “On a scale of one to ten, how sore are you?”
I consider the question. “Five.”
Fifteen, but I don’t tell her that. I don’t want her being gentle with me in case she decides to stay and get handsy with me later.
“Only five?” Doubt is written all over her gorgeous face. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because I’m an accomplished liar. Plus, the beard hides most of my expression.” I grin wolfishly.
“You don’t think I should leave?”