Play With Me by Kristen Proby
“Meg, open your eyes,” he whispers as he moves his hips in just that way that slides the head of his cock against my clit.
His deep blue eyes stare down into mine as he rears back and braces the impressive head of his cock against my lips.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
“Will, in me. Now.”
He smiles softly and pushes inside me, oh so slowly.
Sweet Jesus, he’s so big. Maybe this isn’t going to work. There’s no way I can take all of him.
My eyes widen, but he kisses me softly. “It’s okay. We’ll take it slow and easy.”
His hips retreat, and then he pushes in again, a bit farther this time.
“Just relax. I won’t hurt you.” He kisses my cheek and my neck, and then kisses my lips again as his hips find a long, slow rhythm. He ever so gently slides out and then in, going deeper and deeper each time until finally he’s all the way inside me, and he stops and gazes down at me.
“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers.
“You can move,” I whisper back. I love how quiet the room is, as though we’re writing our own song.
“I just love feeling you wrapped around me. I’ve never felt anything like you.” He barely moves his hips, but it grinds his pubic bone against the metal above my clit and I gasp.
“Piercing?” he asks.
“Yeah, it hits my clit when you move your hips like that.”
“Good to know,” he mutters with a smug grin.
I rotate my hips and clench around him, wanting desperately for him to move.
“Ah, hell, don’t do that.”
I smile and do it again.
“Megan, this won’t last long if you keep…” Before he can finish the sentence I rotate my hips again and squeeze my intimate muscles and he starts to really move, gliding out to the tip, and then back in to the hilt.
“Oh, yes.”
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, babe.” His voice is raw and sweat is beading on his forehead and I’m stunned at how much he wants me.
“I want you. Just you.”
“Damn right, just me.” And with that he picks up the pace, rocking in and out of me, thrusting harder and harder, so when he’s pushed as far as he can go, it almost hurts. He’s so big, there’s no avoiding it.
“Goddamn it,” his teeth are clenched. He grabs my hands, laces our fingers, and pulls them above my head, restraining me. “You’re so fucking sweet.”
Every touch of his pubis against my clit is setting me on fire, until finally I can’t stand it anymore. I feel the orgasm building, my legs clench, I grip his hands harder.
“Come,” he whispers in my ear and bites my neck, sending me over the edge, pulsing and bucking beneath him in the best damn orgasm of my life.
“Ah, hell,” he shouts and follows me with his own release. He buries his face in my neck and unlocks our fingers. I wrap my arms around him and cradle him to me, still inside me, and know that I’m totally and completely lost to this beautiful man.
He rolls to the side and takes me with him, reversing our positions. He manages to stay inside me, and I’m in no hurry to kick him out.
“Well, I guess it’s safe to say we’re compatible in bed,” I murmur against his chest. He laughs and kisses my head.
“True, but you might kill me.”
“How so?”
“Now that I’ve had you, I won’t be able to get enough of you. I think I’m addicted to how you feel, how you sound, and being buried deep inside you.”
I don’t really mind the sound of that at all.
And besides, it’s totally mutual.
I sigh and rest my arm across his chest. Will traces the music inked on my arm with his finger.
“What song is it?” he asks softly.
“I Dare You To Move by Switchfoot.”
“What part of the song is this?”
Startled, I gaze up at him. “You do know me pretty well already, don’t you?”
“You wouldn’t permanently put anything on your body unless it meant something. What lyrics go with this music?” He smiles down at me and kisses my forehead.
I’ve never shared this with anyone.
“I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor.” I whisper and feel Will sigh.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs and drops the subject.
“I like yours too.” I grin up at him and then pinch him.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“You never told me you have a tattoo.”
“You never asked.” He hugs me tighter and sweeps his hand down my back to my ass and back up again.
I want to purr like a kitten.
“I get the number eight is your jersey number, but what does the rest mean?” I ask him and trace the number eight on his side. His tattoo is over his ribcage on his right side. It’s the number eight surrounded by lots of little lines and squiggles that don’t seem to make any sense.
“Look closely,” he mutters and raises his arm so I can get a better look.
Holy shit.
“It’s all the players’ signatures?” I ask.
“Yep. It represents my team. I may be the center of it, but I’m surrounded by a whole team of great men and really good players. So I had a board made with the number in the middle and asked all the guys to sign around it, and there it is.”
“Do you add names as teammates come and go?” I ask.
“Yeah. It started with college, and I’ve added the names as the years go by.”
“What if your number changes?” I ask.
“It’s not going to. They retired my number at UW and Seattle will probably do the same when I retire.”
“Big shot football star,” I murmur, earning a light slap on my ass and I grin. I continue tracing it with my fingertips and push up to kiss his chin.
“So you’re not just a pretty face,” I remark sarcastically.
“No, that’s you, babe. You’ve got the pretty face.”
“I’m so not your type.” I roll off him and run my hands down my face.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Will rolls on top of me and glares down at me, pissed off.
“It just means that I’m not what most athletes would go for. I’m not tall, blonde and leggy. I’m not arm candy. I’m a rocker chick-turned-nurse. I’m no one special.”
With each word coming out of my mouth I’m pissing him off more.
Why? It’s just the truth.
“Have you heard a word I’ve told you? You are exactly my type. Physically and emotionally. I love this sweet body of yours. I love your dirty mouth. Aside from your crazy hours, I’m proud as fuck of you for being an awesome nurse and friend to those kids of yours. I don’t care what anyone says, you are who I want.”
He cups my face in his hands. “You are what I want. Just you.”
“I didn’t mean to piss you off, I just…”
“You didn’t just piss me off, honey. You put yourself down, and hurt my feelings. Trust me, if you didn’t interest me, you wouldn’t be here.”
I run my fingers down his face and smile up at him gently. “Okay.”
“Now, I’m hungry.”
“Kitchen sex?” I ask excitedly as he pulls me to my feet and tosses one of his jerseys at me.
“Food first, then yes, if you’re good, I’ll let you have your way with me on the kitchen counter.”
“Yes!”
* * *
“I never realized how messy kitchen sex is,” I murmur and watch Will fiddle with the shower heads, lowering them so they don’t hit me in the face.
His shower is massive. We could easily host the entire offensive line in here.
“That’s better, come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me gently into the shower. Oh, God, the hot water feels amazing. I glance down to see the remnants of ice cream and chocolate syrup get washed down the drain.
“Here, it’s your fault
“I bought it to keep here. I’m hoping you’ll be staying here a lot, at least when I’m home.” He smiles down at me and warmth spreads through me. “Of course, you’re welcome here even when I’m not home.”
“I’m happy to stay when you’re home. It seems silly to stay here when you’re gone, given that my place is less than twenty minutes from here. We’ll have to put some of your things at my place too, in case we end up there.”
He jerks me against him and kisses me roughly.
“Hey! I’m not clean. Let’s get clean before we get dirty again.”
He laughs down at me and finishes cleaning us both off, and then we take turns rinsing the suds off our bodies.
Will wraps me in a large bath sheet, warm from a towel warmer. “You’re going to spoil me, Montgomery.”
“Good.” He kisses my forehead and wraps a towel around his waist. “Let’s go back to bed.”
“My hair is wet.”
He frowns at my hair for a second. “Wait here.”
He marches out of the bathroom and I hear cabinet doors banging and then he’s back with a blow dryer. “Jules left this here a few months ago. She probably has ten of them.”
He plugs the blow dryer in and motions for me to stand in front of him, and he systematically blows my hair dry.
Well, shit. No man has ever done that before.
I meet his eyes in the mirror and he smiles contentedly, then concentrates again on my hair. When it’s dry, he turns off the dryer and lays it on the countertop to cool.
“Bed.”
Chapter Ten
“Wake up, sweetheart.”
Will brushes my hair off my face and kisses my cheek.
“Hmph.”
“I have to go, babe, I need you to wake up.”
Go?
I open my eyes and take in the pretty. God, he’s a nice way to wake up. “Mornin,” I murmur and stretch.
“Good morning.”
I sit up and let the sheet drop to my lap and push my hair back over my shoulders. Will’s eyes are on my breasts and I grin. “Like what you see?”
“You have no idea.”
“Stay here and show me.” I lay back and open my arms to him. He climbs across the bed and kisses me, hovering over me.
“I can’t stay. I have to go train for a while. You can come with me if you want.” He kisses my nose as I laugh up at him.
“Honey, I don’t run. If you ever see me running, you’d better start running too ‘cause that means that something is chasing me.”
He chuckles down at me, kisses me again, and then sits up. “You’re funny. Okay, then lazy bones, stay here and look gorgeous in my bed. I have to go get tortured for a while.”
“I work tonight,” I remind him and he frowns.
“What shift?”
“Swing. I have to be there at two and get off at two in the morning.”
“How long does this shift go this week?”
“Just tonight, then I’m off three in a row.” I snuggle down in the comfortable white sheets and hug Will’s pillow to me as I talk to him. “This pillow smells like you.”
“Come here tonight after work.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please.” His hand glides from my knee, up my thigh and over my hip to my side. “I don’t want to be without you tonight.”
“Okay. No game this weekend? This is Sunday, isn’t it?”
“It’s Monday night this week. I was hoping you’d be off so you could come. I own one of the suites and the family usually comes and hangs out and watches the game.”
“Oh, that’s right. Jules and Natalie asked me to go out for a little shopping and happy hour with them Monday. They said the guys were going to the game and we should do the girl thing.”
“That’s cool too. We can meet up after the game.” He kisses my forehead and climbs off the bed.
“Are you really cool with me not going to the game?” I ask uncertainly.
“It’s fine. We’re still early in the season, there will be plenty of games for you to see. Have fun with the girls.”
This is so not the arrogant man that I thought he was, and the fact that I ever labeled him as an asshole shames me.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re not an asshole.”
His eyebrows climb into his hairline and he stares down at me. “That’s a bad thing?”
“No, I’m saying I’m sorry for calling you an asshole before. You’re not.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Okay, go, before I pull you back in this bed and give you a work out myself.”
“I’ll be back before you leave for work.”
“I’ll probably just head home and get ready from there. I don’t have scrubs here. Shit!” I cover my face with my hands.
“What?”
“I don’t have a car. You picked me up last night.”
“Take the Rover. Keys are in the mudroom.” He turns and leaves the room before I can argue.
“Have a good day, dear!” I call after him and hear him chuckle as he jogs down the stairs.
I climb out of Will’s monstrous bed and wince at my sore muscles. Will is an attentive and inventive lover. I was in positions and used muscles last night that I didn’t know were possible. The fact that he’s so strong and can just move me where he wants me is sexy as hell.
I pull on my dress from last night and head downstairs to gather my purse and shrug and head home.
Will’s house is simply stunning. There are large windows everywhere, letting in an abundance of light and a view of the beautiful water and landscape of the Sound. His furnishings are inviting and plush. I haven’t seen the whole house yet, but it’s definitely a home that’s lived in, and is comfortable and welcoming.
Like the man who owns it.
The keys to his SUV are where he said they would be. I grab my purse and the keys and head home, and for the first time since I started my job, I’m already wishing my shift were over.
* * *
“He’s not doing well, Meg.”
Jill rubs her hand up and down my back consolingly as I read Nick’s chart. I’ve only been gone for a few days, how could he have gotten so sick so quickly?
“What happened?”
“He caught pneumonia. He’s been sleeping a lot, and his family is with him. He won’t take that jersey that Montgomery gave him off. He’s been asking for you, honey.”
Shit. This is the part of my job that I absolutely hate. Nick could get better, but his cancer is aggressive, and to catch pneumonia with all the chemo in his body is not a good thing. I grab his chart and head for his room, schooling my features and straightening my shoulders. Nick doesn’t need to see me sad; he needs me to be professional and upbeat. Reassuring.
I knock lightly on his door and poke my head inside. Nick’s mom is sitting next to his bed, knitting. She looks exhausted.
“Hi, Meg. Come on in.” She offers me a half smile.
“Hey, how’s our guy?” I ask and come in the room. Nick’s asleep, and just as Jill said, he’s in his jersey. His breathing is labored and he’s a bit sweaty. I take his temp and frown at the high number, then check his chart to see when he received meds for fever last.
“Not good,” she whispers and blinks tears from her eyes.
“Hey, Meg.” Nick’s voice is nothing but a gravelly whisper.
“Hey, buddy.” I take his hand in mine and smile down at him. “I hear you got sick on me while I was away.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we’re gonna get you better, okay? You just rest.” I pat his thin shoulder and sigh as he falls back to sleep. “I’m going to go get him some more medicine for his fever and catch up with his doctor. I just got here and wanted to come see him when I heard the news.”
“Thanks, Meg. I’m glad you’re here to
I leave his room and march straight to the nurses’ station with Nick’s chart.
“Who was assigned to Nick this morning?”
“Elena, why?” Jill asks with a frown.
“He’s two hours late in getting fever meds, Jill. He’s burning up. Did she leave for the day?”
“I think so.”
“Well, she’s getting written up for this. If she can’t keep track of her patient’s meds, she shouldn’t be here.” With that, I walk to the charge nurse office and pull my phone out, and text Will.
If you have any time available, at any point today, can you come to the hospital?
Will won’t magically cure anything, but it might lift Nick’s spirits to see him, and I’ll try anything to get him better.
I know that we shouldn’t have favorite patients, but Nick is special to me. He’s been here for three months already, and we were hopeful that the treatments were working and we’d be able to send him home by the end of September. Now I’m not so sure.
My phone pings with a response from Will.
What’s wrong?
I’m fine. I respond. Nick’s really sick.
I probably shouldn’t impose on him like this. My job isn’t his problem. Just as I start to text him again to say never mind, he responds with I’ll bring you dinner and chat with Nick for a bit. 7 ok?
I grin as I respond.
Perfect. Thank you. I owe you.
* * *
“He doesn’t look good,” Will remarks and takes a bite of his Chinese food.
“He’s not,” I reply. We’re sitting in the charge nurse office, the door is closed, and an array of Chinese food choices is spread over the desk. Will arrived about thirty minutes ago, and after kissing me silly by the elevator, I took the bags of food and he said a quick hello to the sick teenager.
“I’m sorry, Meg. He’s a great kid.” His eyes are somber.
“Yeah, he is.” I push my plate away and lean back in the chair, brushing my hands vigorously though my hair. “I hate this part of my job.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m okay.” I shrug and gaze over at him. His eyes are worried, roaming over my face and I love him for being concerned about me and for just being here. “Thanks for coming. I needed to see you.”