Play With Me by Kristen Proby
I brace my hands on his lean, wet hips, my thumbs tracing that spectacular V, and watch his face as he washes my chest, breasts, stomach. His eyes follow his hand, taking in my body and they heat with lust.
“I love your skin,” his eyes find mine and he smiles. “You’re so soft.”
“I love this spot, right here,” I tap his hips with my thumbs and smile sassily at him. “Let’s keep this.”
He chuckles at me. “I’ll do my best. Let’s rinse you.”
He shifts me under the water, and watches with fascination as the suds slide down my body. He’s stopped touching me, and is just watching my body’s reaction to the water and to him.
My eyes trail down his firm body, his flat stomach, a small patch of dark hair, and the most impressive, fully erect penis I’ve ever seen. I take him in my hand and move up and down the length in two long, slow strokes.
“Shit,” he sucks air in through his clenched teeth and I grin as I sink to my knees, and lick the tip of him, slowly, softly, teasingly. I cup his balls in my hand, and hold the base of his cock in the other and sink down onto him, sucking and licking as I go. When he hits the back of my throat, I pull up and repeat the motion, slightly speeding up.
His fingers tangle in my hair and I speed up, jacking him with my hand.
“Fuck, I love your mouth,” he mutters. He’s panting, slightly thrusting his hips against me. “Don’t make me come in your mouth.”
I smile to myself. Hell, yes, I’ll make you come in my mouth!
I move faster, harder. Suddenly, Will lifts me to my feet and kisses me hard and deep. He’s gripping my shoulders hard, his kiss is desperate.
“I haven’t been inside you in seventy-two hours, Megan. I’m not coming in your sweet mouth.” He spins me to face the shower wall. “Hands on the wall.”
He pulls my hips back and pushes his fingers through my folds to my clit. I gasp when he brushes my metal.
“Oh, Will.”
“That’s right. This is mine, Megan. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
He pushes two fingers inside me and twists them, then pulls them out to wet my already swollen lips.
“So wet,” he mutters.
“Will?”
“Yes, love.”
A chill runs up my spine at that word and I grin.
“I really need you inside me.”
“I’ll get there, babe. God, you feel good.”
“I’ll feel better when you’re inside me.”
I hear him chuckle, and then we both gasp when the head of his cock brushes my sex. He gently pushes in, all the way.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh God, yes. More than okay.”
“This is going to be rough, honey.” His voice is tight as he starts to move, really move, frantically. He grabs my hair in one fist and slaps my ass with the other, startling me. “God, you’re so fucking good.”
“Oh my God, Will!”
He pulls out suddenly and spins me to face him, plants his hands on my ass and lifts me against the wall. I wrap my arms and legs around him, but he takes my hands and holds them both above my head with one of his, leans into me, and buries himself inside me again.
“So good,” he mutters and pins me with his bright blue eyes. “Mine,” he repeats and then buries his face in my neck, kissing and biting and I feel my orgasm pushing up through me.
My legs tense and I push against Will’s hands, but he holds strong.
“That’s right, let go,” he commands, and I do, hard and fast, spasming around his beautiful cock.
“Ah fuck!” His jaw is clenched and he throws his head back and falls over the edge with me.
He rests his forehead against mine as we recover. “Do you work today?”
“No.”
“Good. You’re staying here with me, all day and night.”
“Good plan.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Is this really what you want to do all day?” I ask, lounging at the end of his couch. I’m in one of his old team jerseys and his boxer-briefs, since I don’t have any clothes here, and my hair is up in a knot on my head, no makeup.
Dear God, I must look horrific.
I glance over at Will, on the opposite side of the long, plush black leather couch. It’s really unfair that he looks so good in just basketball shorts and an old t-shirt.
“Why, is there somewhere you wanted to go?” he asks and flips through channels on his uber-huge television. We are in his media room, full of plush furniture, the outrageously enormous television – dear God, is he blind? Who needs a TV this big? – football memorabilia, a wet bar, a pool table. Basically a big ol’ man cave where boys can hang out and do boy things.
“No, I’m just surprised.” I lean back and plop my feet in his lap, getting more comfortable. He immediately wraps one big hand around the arch of my foot and rubs with his thumb and I sigh in contentment.
“It’s nice to relax once in a while. We haven’t really just hung out together much.” He offers me a soft smile, and my stomach flips, just a little. Gosh, he’s pretty to look at.
And he’s right. It feels good to be lazy. I’m still super tired from last night at work, and just lounging in Will’s extraordinary home with him all day is relaxing and perfect.
“Are we okay,” he murmurs, drawing my attention. His eyes are sober, and he’s watching me closely.
I turn my head to the side and offer him a half smile. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
He just nods and flips the channels to a show about whales on the Discovery channel.
“I’m hungry,” he announces.
“You’re always hungry,” I laugh and kick his thigh gently. “You just had a huge sandwich an hour ago.”
“Let’s order in pizza.”
“Let’s go get the pizza and bring it back,” I suggest.
“I like having you here, in my jersey, in my house, where I don’t have to share you and you don’t have to share me and we can just be.”
“Be what?” I ask.
“Us.” He pulls me into his lap and kisses me senseless, plunging his fingers into my hair and moving those amazing lips over mine. Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pushes me back onto the couch and reaches for his phone. “I’m calling for pizza.”
* * *
“You are such a fucking cheater!” Will is glaring at me from his position on the floor, his back against the couch, xBox controller in his hands. God, he’s adorable when he’s irritated with me.
“I am not!”
“All you’re doing is pushing all the buttons at once and waving the controller all about,” he accuses me. He’s right. I have no idea how to play this shit, and making him crazy is hilarious.
“It’s called strategy, Mr. Football Star.” I bat my eyelashes at him and laugh as his scowl deepens.
“You’ve never played this, have you?”
“Madden Two Thousand Thirty-Four? No.”
“It’s Madden 2013, smart ass.” Now he’s laughing at me. God, he’s fun.
“I’m still kicking your Seattle ass. The guy with your name on the jersey looks nothing like you, by the way.” I pick up my soda and sip from the straw. We are surrounded by junk food. Pizza boxes, chip bags, cookie containers, you name it. It looks like a twelve-year-old’s birthday party exploded in here.
It’s fucking fun as hell.
“It’s a video game, babe, not a music video.”
I throw a chip at him, hitting him in the head, and he turns to glare at me. “Did you just hit me in the head with a freaking Dorito?”
“No.” I shake my head innocently and back up on the couch as he lays the controller on the coffee table and turns to me.
“Liar.”
“You deserved it, smart ass.”
“I know what you deserve.” He kneels in front of me, grabs my hands and pulls me toward him and then in one swift move, pulls his jersey up over my head. “I don’t think you can borrow this anymor
“Fine.” I lean back against the couch again and cross my arms over my naked chest, covering up my breasts. Will’s lips twitch but he holds his smile back and gives me a mock-glare and grips his black shorts at my hips and yanks them down my legs and throws them over his left shoulder.
I think they land in the salsa.
“Those are mine, too,” he murmurs, his eyes glassing over as he sweeps his gaze from my face down my body.
I move to cross my legs, but he holds them still, hands on my thighs, and pushes himself up between them so his pelvis rests against my own and his lips are inches from my face.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks softly.
I shrug, my smart mouth having suddenly left me, and just stare up into Will’s sea-blue eyes.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs and kisses my forehead, my nose, over to my dimple. “I love this dimple. Makes you look so innocent.” He smiles against my cheek and kisses it again. “Of course, I know differently.”
I chuckle and slide my hands up under his t-shirt, over the smooth muscles of his back. “Get naked.”
“I will.” He kisses his way over to my neck and runs his hand down my face to my breast to tease my nipple. I suck in a breath and squirm beneath him.
“Naked,” I repeat but he just chuckles and keeps up the torment, running those hands over my body, those lips down my throat to continue the torture of my nipples. Oh dear God, that feels good.
“Your skin is so damn soft.” He’s on his knees again, kissing down my stomach to my navel where he pays special attention. He grips my hips in his hands, holding onto me, and bites and kisses my stomach, brushes his nose over it, and then kisses it some more.
Jesus, when did my stomach become an erogenous zone?
He suddenly jerks me to the edge of the couch and pushes my thighs wider apart and sits back on his heels, just looking at me.
“So damn beautiful,” he repeats. He raises his hand to my face, his eyes on mine, and runs the backs of his fingers down my cheek, brushes my lower lip with his thumb, and then traces the pad of his index finger down the hollow of my throat, down my sternum, my stomach, over my navel and my pubis.
I can’t move. I’m completely in his trance. For Godsake, we went from me playfully cheating my ass off on a video game to intense sexual tension in the matter of seconds.
Suddenly, he turns around and fishes an ice cube out of an empty soda glass and pushes it into his mouth. His eyes smile up at me before he lowers his head, and very gently, places a kiss right on my metal. His cold lips send a zing through my core and I raise my hips in response.
“Holy shit, that’s cold!”
He chuckles and does it again, but this time he slides down, hollows his cheeks and sucks my lips into his mouth with the cold ice and I about come apart. I grip his hair in my fists and hold him to me but he backs out of my grasp and shakes his head.
“Grip the back of the couch with your hands, babe.”
Huh?
“Why?”
“This is going to get intense for you, and it’ll be even more so if you can’t touch me.” He gently caresses my thigh with his hand. “Trust me.”
I do.
So I grab the couch above my head and watch him. He smiles reassuringly and kisses my thigh, then fishes out another ice cube, but instead of pushing it into his mouth, he spreads my labia with one hand and, eyes on mine, guides the ice from my anus, through my folds, and up to my clit.
“Watch this, Megan.”
When he reaches my piercing, he hangs out there, circling the metal over and over, making it so damn fucking cold, and then pushes it down against my already over-stimulated nub and my hips come up off the couch. He pushes me back down firmly and gives my clit a reprieve, guiding the ice back down through my lips.
“I love this pink pussy,” he murmurs, his eyes full of longing and lust.
“It’s rather fond of you, too,” I respond, panting.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” he replies sarcastically and reaches for another ice cube.
“Jesus, Will, I can’t do it anymore.” I shake my head from side to side.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He kisses my thigh again, twice, and places a soft kiss against my pussy. God, it’s fucking hot to watch him kiss me down there.
He pops the ice in his mouth and kisses my labia deeply, brushing his nose over my clit, and suddenly I feel a finger brushing my anus. My hips jerk against him and I can’t hold the orgasm in, I come violently against him, crying out his name.
He pushes that ice deep into me with his tongue and then quickly pulls his shirt off, pushes his shorts down around his hips, unleashing his impressive erection, and moves up my body. As his cold lips meet mine, he pushes his cock inside me.
“Holy shit, it’s cold,” he laughs and kisses me again.
“Can I touch you now?” I ask, raising my hips to meet him.
“Fuck, baby, yes, touch me.” I wrap my arms around his neck, and am stunned when he suddenly stands with me in his arms, still inside me, and sits on the couch. I plant my knees on either side of his hips, and cup his gorgeous face in my hands.
“I love how you feel when you’re inside me,” I whisper against his lips. His hands are caressing my back, from my shoulders to my ass, and back up again. “I love the way you touch me.”
My eyes never leave his as I start to move my hips, clenching down on him with every downward motion. His jaw clenches as he watches me, his eyes sober and hot. I run my hands through his hair and kiss him deeply, and he wraps those strong, muscular arms around my waist, and pulls me down harder, rolling his hips, making his pubic bone hit my metal, and it’s too much. Before I can stop it, I fall over the edge again, spasming around him.
He buries his face in my neck and growls.
“Fuck, Megan.” And suddenly he’s falling with me, spilling himself inside me.
* * *
I wake alone in Will’s bed, again. I have a feeling that with his early morning training and meetings, I’ll be waking alone a lot when we stay together.
But, given that he woke me up with delicious kisses to let me know he was leaving, he’s forgiven.
Yesterday was the best day I’ve had in I don’t know how long. We literally spent all day being lazy gluttons. Except when we were making love, which was also often.
He’s a freaking animal.
The more I get to know him, the more I genuinely like him. He’s definitely not the arrogant asshole I originally thought he was. He’s considerate and kind and funny.
And for some reason that I’m not going to examine too closely, he seems to be smitten with me.
I gather my things and head home. Today is Nick’s memorial service, and I will be going. Nick was a special kid, and I need to say goodbye.
I take my time in the shower, letting the scalding water loosen sore muscles and soothe me. I smile as I remember the two showers Will and I shared yesterday, and how we ended up getting dirty again, before we ever even left the water.
The man likes water sports.
After buffing and shaving and scrubbing, I dry quickly and dress in a simple black dress. I twist my hair up and pin it at the back of my head, add minimal makeup and satisfied with how I look I head downstairs to eat something light before heading to the service.
As I descend the stairs, the doorbell rings.
Who the hell could that be?
I pull the door open to find a dark suit-covered Will standing on my doorstep.
God, he looks good in a suit.
It’s tailored to his tall, lean body. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt and deep blue tie with it, setting off those incredible eyes.
“Your alarm isn’t set.”
And he’s pissed.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Your alarm isn’t set,” he repeats stubbornly and walks past me into the living room.
“Will, I’ve been home less than an hour. What are
He pulls me to him, wraps his arms around me and just hugs me close. “Do you really think I’d let you go alone today?”
I rest my cheek against his chest and breathe him in. He smells clean and safe. He smells like Will.
“You don’t have to go with me,” I murmur.
He pulls back and cups my face in his hands. “Yeah, babe. I do. Then you’re coming home with me.”
“Aren’t you getting sick of me yet?” I ask lightly, wrinkling my nose.
“Yes, I’m terribly sick of you. You eat too much, hog the bed, and cheat at video games. Not to mention, you require way too much sex. But, I’m muddling my way through.”
“You know, you could use some work on your people skills.”
He laughs down at me. “Haven’t you noticed, Megan? I can’t seem to get enough of you. I have to leave for Miami tomorrow, and I want you with me tonight. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
“How’s your day going, sweetheart?”
God, it’s good to hear his voice. I lean back in the plush desk chair behind my desk and grin.
“It’s been a pretty smooth day so far. How about you?”
“The usual. We watched some film this morning, went to the field for a while. Now we’re waiting to do some interviews and call it a day.” He sounds tired.
“I hear Miami is fun. Gonna go party it up tonight?” I ask with a smile and systematically dismantle a paperclip.
He chuckles, and I clench my thighs together. Even from three thousand miles away, his voice does things to me. He’s only been gone for roughly thirty-six hours and I’m itching to get my hands on him.
“No, we have a curfew when we’re out of town, babe. We’ll probably all just go to the hotel, order in room-service, and call it a night. I wish you were here.” The last sentence is whispered, and I clutch my phone even more tightly in my hand.
“Me too,” I murmur.
“Good. Get on a plane tonight.”
I laugh loudly. Yeah, right. “Will, that’s not possible.”
“Why not? I’ll book you something right now.”