He pulls back and gazes down at me. “Someone’s probably watching us,” he murmurs. He kisses my forehead and then lies on his back beside me. We just lay here, breathing hard.
“I should tell you something,” I whisper.
“What?” I feel him look over at me, but I just look up at the black night sky above the brightly lit, empty stadium.
“I want to suck your dick in your car.”
“What?!” He pushes up on his elbow, leans over me, and makes me look him in the eye. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
“Your car makes me crazy, Will.” I lick my lips and grin. “All I’ve thought about since the other day is going down on you in your car.”
I’ve never seen anyone spring to their feet so quickly in my life. He pulls me to my feet as well and starts stalking back the way we came.
“Slow down! Will, your legs are longer than mine!” I’m practically running behind him, and he stops abruptly and turns back to me. He looks pissed, his eyes narrowed and on fire, mouth tight, jaw clenched. I take an involuntary step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like such a whore, I just…”
“If you ever call yourself a whore again,” he pushes his face into mine, his nose only centimeters from touching my own, “I will take you over my knee and spank the hell out of you. Do you understand me? You turn me inside out. I want to fuck you seven shades of Sunday, and I want to make long, slow, sweet love to you for days. I’m craving you, goddamn it, and you can’t just say shit like that to me when I know what you taste like, and what you look like and I need desperately to know what the fuck you feel like.”
I blink at him, completely thrown.
Well, okay then.
“Now, as much as I want to strip you naked and take you on the fifty-yard-line, I don’t need those photos surfacing on the internet any more than you do.”
And with that he bends down and in one swift move, lifts me onto his shoulder and begins carrying me off the field, just as quickly as he was before.
“I can walk,” I remind him.
“Not fast enough,” he mutters and slaps my ass.
“Hey!”
“You deserve that and more, now shut up, Megan.”
Holy fuck.
We get to the car and he sets me on my feet, and then helps me into the passenger seat. He walks briskly around the car and folds himself easily behind the wheel, starts the car and pulls out of the garage, speeding toward the freeway.
His handsome face is scowling and he won’t look at me.
I’m not sure what to think. Why is he so pissed off? Too much sexual tension? Well, join the club, sexy man.
“So…” I start but he interrupts me.
“Don’t talk.”
What?
We’re back on Interstate 5, heading north this time, and he’s driving way past the speed limit. He passes the exit for my place, and I frown over at him but he doesn’t acknowledge me. Suddenly, he’s pulling off the freeway, turns left, and follows the road to an exclusive part of Seattle. The homes are set back from the road with gates. He approaches the end of the street, pulls into a drive and enters a code for the gate.
“The code is 051877. Can you remember that?”
“Oh, so you’re speaking to me,” I mutter sarcastically.
He just looks over at me expectantly until I huff and say, “051877.”
The gate opens and Will drives us down to a beautiful home that has an unbelievable view of the Puget Sound. From what I can see in the semi-darkness, the house is a traditional-style stone house, two stories, with a four car garage.
“Wow. This is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he mutters and pulls the car into a garage, parks and cuts the engine. He unbuckles both of our belts and looks over at me, just stares at me for a long minute.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“I want you.”
“I sort of figured that out, babe.” I offer him a smile, but he doesn’t return it. Maybe this is an invitation without actually asking me, to make good on what I said in the stadium?
“Are you wearing underwear?” I ask him.
He laughs ruefully – finally! – and shakes his head. “Of course. Most people do, Meg.”
“Tilt your seat back,” I tell him. He holds my gaze and does as I ask. I kick off my shoes and pull my legs under me in the seat, settling my butt on my heels. Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I lean in and kiss him hard and deep, earning a growl from deep in his throat. I reach down and unbutton and unzip his jeans and he helps me by raising his hips and shimmying his pants and really sexy white boxer briefs down his hips, letting his heavy, long, thick erection spring free.
Jesus H. Christ, the man is hung! Given his height, this shouldn’t surprise me in the least, but it does intimidate me. I bite my lip and look into his gorgeous blue eyes uncertainly.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he asks me and runs his knuckles down my cheek.
“When we do finally get to have sex, I’m not sure…” I can’t complete the sentence and he chuckles.
“You’ll stretch, Meg.” His eyes are warm and happy, and he pulls me in for another long, slow kiss. I reach down and stroke him, loving the velvet-soft skin, the feel of the veins, and the smooth, round tip.
“Goddamn, honey.” He throws his head back and sucks in a deep breath. “Your hands should come with a warning label.”
I grin and lick the head of his cock, right across the top, lapping up the little bead of dew that already formed there. His hips buck up off the seat and I decide I’ve played nice long enough.
I want to drive him fucking mad.
I lick him from his balls to the tip, and then back down again, and then, cupping his scrotum in one hand, I sink down on him and suck.
“Holy, fuck!” He sinks his hands in my hair and gently starts to guide me up and down his hardness. I suck and lick, and suck and lick some more with each movement and continue the torture with my hands. I feel his balls tighten in my right hand, and I know it won’t be long before he loses control.
So I sink down on him as far as I can, until I feel him deep in my throat, and slip my finger down past his scrotum to that sensitive skin just underneath and I rub gently, making him crazy.
“Megan, I’m going to come.”
I hum in pleasure, but I feel him holding back, so I repeat the motions, move my mouth up and down his shaft, and rub that little spot below his scrotum.
“Ah, fuck!” Will comes violently, shoots his warmth into the back of my mouth and I swallow quickly. I continue to lick and tease him as droplets continue to flow out of his slit, and I smile as his body goes lax.
I look up into his deep blue eyes and offer him a shy grin. “Was that okay?”
“Sweetheart, if that had been any more okay, I would have died.”
I laugh as he tucks himself back in, and then he leans over and kisses me hard and fast.
“Stay with me tonight.”
Yes!
“Not for sex,” he continues. “Although I’m about to kill someone if I don’t get inside you soon. I just don’t want to be without you tonight. You can stay in my spare room if you want.”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“If you wear one of my shirts, yes.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Eight
I wake with a start, sitting up in bed, disoriented. I’m swimming in a huge football jersey and boy boxer-briefs, which immediately throws me off. I take in the large room, bathed in moonlight, and remember I’m in Will’s room.
In Will’s bed.
The sexy man is sleeping soundly next to me, on his side, facing me. His handsome face is relaxed in sleep and there is stubble starting to grow on his firm, square chin. His hair is messier than usual, begging my fingers to run through it.
So I do.
He’s also in a t-shirt and pajama pants, and when he brought me here, to his beautifully decorated bedroom, and bed the size of a small cou
ntry, he’d been tender and sweet and the perfect gentleman.
I love it and I hate it.
I’m ready to give my body to him. Hell, I think I’ve already given him my heart, and that scares the hell out of me.
I lie like this for a long while, gently brushing his soft almost-brown hair with my fingers, memorizing his sleeping face. He shifts slightly and reaches up to take my hand in his, kisses my hand, and without opening his eyes, pulls me against his chest, wraps his arms around me and holds me close.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses my hair.
My eyes close, and I fall asleep to the sound of his heart against my ear.
* * *
“Do you know how to drive a stick?” Will asks me nervously as I adjust the driver’s seat in his sexy Mustang.
“Of course I do. Don’t insult me,” I shoot him a mock glare and then smile widely, jumping up and down in the seat. “Gimme the keys.”
“You’re adorable.” He’s grinning at me, enjoying my enthusiasm. He’s letting me drive his car to our date tonight.
“I’m ready to drive. Hand them over, Montgomery.” I hold my hand out, palm up, waiting for the keys. He kisses my palm, and then drops the keys in it.
“Okay, let’s go.”
I press on the clutch and start the car. It purrs to life and I sigh in happiness.
“I might have an orgasm while I drive,” I mention casually.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Will laughs. “Let’s get there in once piece, sweetheart.”
“Where are we going, anyway?” I ask and start to pull into his driveway, but kill the car, making it jerk frantically.
“Holy shit!” Will exclaims, gripping onto the car door.
“Sorry. Just getting used to the clutch.” I start the car again and pull into the drive, ignoring the glares coming at me from the passenger seat.
“Don’t kill my transmission.”
“Oh, calm down. It’s just a car, right?” I bat my eyes at him and giggle when he twists my ear in his fingers. “Where are we going?”
“Bowling. The Alley not far from your place.”
“A couples date?” I ask incredulously.
“No, a family date,” Will clarifies.
I stare at his profile for a second and then look back to the road and can’t help but laugh. “Is this your plan to keep your hands off me until the official end of the third date?” I ask.
He smirks and then rubs his hand down his face. “Fuck.”
“We almost had sex with your family sitting twenty feet away before, Will.”
He glares at me and then smirks again. “You were hot for me even then.”
“Whatever, don’t flatter yourself.” I smother a happy smile and focus on the conversation at hand. “Why bowling?”
“Well, a few times a year we all like to get together and go.”
I gape at him, trying to wrap my head around Luke Williams, movie-star, bowling.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ll show you how.”
This time I can’t stop my smug smile. I bowl quite well, thank you very much, but I choose to let him think he’ll be giving me instructions. Hmm… Will, pressed up against my back, showing me how to roll the ball down the lane… yes, this has possibilities.
“So, who’s going to be there?” I ask and purposely swerve on the two-lane side street, just to get a rise out of Will.
“Hey! Stay in your lane!”
“You have insurance,” I smirk at him, earning another glare. I laugh out loud, enjoying both him and the car.
This car is fucking amazing.
“Who’s going with us?” I ask again.
“Jules and Nate, Luke and Nat, Brynna, Isaac and Stacy, although she’ll just watch because she’s miserably pregnant at this point.” He offers me a wide smile. “And I think Matt and Caleb and Luke’s sister Sam are even coming tonight, so we’ll have everyone accounted for.”
“I’m going to need some drinks,” I mutter and Will scowls.
“No, no alcohol for either one of us tonight.” He shakes his head adamantly.
“Why ever not?”
“Because when I get you back to my bed later, I’m going to make love to you for hours, and you will not only be awake for it, you’ll have full use of your beautiful brain.” He takes my hand in his, links our fingers and kisses my knuckles. “I mean it, Meg, no alcohol. Please.”
How can I refuse that?
“Okay, no alcohol,” I agree and my stomach twists and turns nervously. He smiles softly and kisses my hand again before I pull into the bowling alley parking lot. I find a parking spot and kill the engine and take a deep, deep breath.
“Thank you for letting me drive your car,” I murmur over to him with a big smile on my face.
“You’re welcome. You look hot driving this car.”
“It’s the car. Anyone would look hot while driving it.”
“Can I have my keys back now?” he asks.
We find the whole gang already in the bowling alley, putting on their shoes and choosing balls. The alley is small, in an out-of-the-way neighborhood of Seattle, and I’m sure it was chosen on purpose to minimize the chance of Luke and Will being recognized. The lanes are dark, the pins and artwork lit up with black light and pop music is playing loudly. This is obviously techno-bowl night.
Will and I approach the counter.
“Rental shoes,” He smiles down at me, and I grimace.
“And rental foot-disease.”
He laughs loudly and kisses the top of my head. “They disinfect them, I think.”
“With what, Aquanet?” I eye the spray can on the countertop and the guy behind the counter gives me the stink eye.
“Size?” the big guy asks.
“Eight,” I mutter.
“Fourteen,” Will responds and I giggle.
“What?” he asks.
“You know what they say about men with big feet…” I giggle again as he glares at me, and if I’m not mistaken, actually blushes.
“Behave.”
“What did I say?” I ask innocently.
“Yeah, you’re not innocent, babe. You just had to wear that outfit, didn’t you?”
I look down at my red, thigh-length sun dress, and brown shrug and frown up at him.
“What’s wrong with my dress?”
“Are you wearing underwear?” he murmurs into my ear so only I can hear.
“Of course not.”
“That’s what’s wrong with your dress.”
“Hey, let’s get this game going!” Jules yells from our lane and we join them.
Natalie and Jules pull me into big hugs. I’m so excited to see them. I’ve really missed them over the past few years.
“Hey, guys.” Will shakes hands with his brothers, kisses the girls on the cheek and puts his shoes on.
“Hey, Meg, how are you?” Stacy asks from her chair by the ball chute. Will wasn’t kidding when he said she’s incredibly pregnant.
“I’m good, thanks. How are you feeling, little mama?”
Stacy laughs and rubs her belly. “Oh! He’s kicking! Here.” She grabs my hand, jerks me down to squat in front of her and lays my hand over her belly, and sure enough, the baby is pushing against my palm.
“He’s a strong little sucker.” I smile up at her and she chuckles.
“My ribs would agree. He’s going to be a soccer player.”
“Football,” all of the men correct her at once and we laugh.
“I’m Brynna,” a pretty, brown-haired woman with the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen smiles at me from her seat next to Stacy. “We met at the party, but I didn’t really get to talk to you.”
“Hi, Brynna. Meg.” I shake her hand and stand.
“Really? We just got here. God, you guys!” Jules exclaims. Nat and Luke are making out, again.
“Ignore them,” Nate murmurs in her ear and Jules grins up at him. Wow, she loves him. The Jules I used to know never would hav
e looked at a man like that.
Of course, Nate is a fine specimen of man. That tattoo he’s sporting on his right arm is bad-ass.
“Stop ogling my soon-to-be brother-in-law,” Will growls in my ear.
“I’m not. I’m appreciating the art on his arm.”
“Speaking of art, what song is that on your arm, Meg?” Matt asks, referring to the tattoo on my inner bicep.
“Oh, just a song,” I wave him off, and search my head for a conversation changer. I’d rather not discuss the song, or what it means to me.
Not yet.
“Okay, c’mere, sweetheart, I’ll show you how to throw the ball.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…” Jules starts but I shake my head at her, halting her. She smiles sweetly at her brother. “You don’t have to wait. Go ahead and show her.”
“Are you the man for the job?” I ask him sarcastically.
“I know my way around balls, babe,” he winks at me and all the guys snicker. “I work with balls for a living.”
“Oh dear God, please don’t talk about your balls all night. I’ll be sick.” Jules scowls at him and Will smirks.
Will chooses a ball and backs up onto the lane, crooking his finger at me with a knowing smile on his sexy lips.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here to show me how to handle the balls,” I announce sarcastically, earning laughter from our friends.
“Come on, smart ass.” I step up to him and he folds his large body behind me, wraps his arms around mine and places the ball in my hands. To torture him, just a little, I wiggle my butt against him and lean into him. He growls low in his throat and swears under his breath before he begins his instructions. “You have to be gentle with the ball. Respect the ball. Visualize in your head where you want the ball to land.”
I giggle-snort and feel him scowl.
“Pay attention.”
I clear my throat. “Sorry.”
“Do you want to give it a try?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Okay, good luck.”
He pats my ass and moves back and I have to bite my lip to keep from breaking down into hysterics. Taking my usual stance, I line the ball up with the arrow that will drive it home, take one, two, three steps and then roll the ball down the lane. It quickly moves over the arrow I aimed for and straight for the head pin and crash! Strike!