Page 62 of Elite Player
Earning the tiniest tic of his lips.
By the time we are seated at a table in the restaurant, Nico’s back to himself, and he orders multiple plates for me to try. We share spicy pork buns, bulgogi, tofu with kimchi, and bibimbapwith an egg on top. It’s delicious, but I quickly become full. Nico downs almost all of it, to my astonishment.
He merely pats his stomach and asks, “Do you want ice cream?”
“No. I absolutely do not want ice cream.”
He shrugs and hands over his credit card to pay, as if this is a real date and I’m really his fiancée. Out on a Saturday afternoon.
But he can’t stay over at my apartment again because he has to go home to check on Gus and get ready for the game tomorrow. I can’t be too disappointed; I will see him tomorrow at the area, and I know I’ll receive my daily breakfast delivery tomorrow. Lots of texts.
And yet…
“You gonna miss me?” he teases once we’re outside, his fingers tugging on my braids.
“No.”
“Liar.” Then he slips his hand around my neck, towing me into him for a kiss that is barely appropriate for a public sidewalk.
Later, when I’m alone in my apartment, I notice he left his toothbrush in my bathroom, right on the sink next to mine, so I message him a picture of it along with a message.
You forgot this.
No I didn’t. Left it for next time.
CHAPTER 18
NICO
“This is nice.”I pat the comfy chaise lounge and kick my legs up on it, making myself at home. Might as well since the saleswoman put Jo in a dressing room with a plethora of clothing to try on.
And I have the perfect seat for the show.
Jo told me the other day how she needed to go shopping for something to wear to her great-grandmother’s birthday party, but she kept putting it off. Now, with only a few days left, what else was there for me to do but come to the rescue and take her shopping?
Since the girl strictly wears black jeans, T-shirts, and hoodies, I put in a couple calls to find out where I should take her to buy a dress and was directed to this designer boutique by Rittenhouse Square, where I practically dragged Jo inside kicking and screaming.
Especially once she saw the price tags.
“Two hundred dollars for this?” she hissed, whacking at my arm, as if it was my fault for designing the glittery tank top. “Is it made out of real gold?”
I shrugged, holding it up to her, picturing what it would look like on her. Jojo doesn’t strike me as the disco-ball type, but sinceI’ve been replaying her little striptease from last week in my head every day, she could wear a potato sack and I wouldn’t care.
The sight of her heavy tits with their pretty pink tips and the soft curve of her belly has been haunting me. Not to mention the curve of her ass and thighs. She’s a perfect hourglass, like something out of an old-school girlie magazine. Perfect fodder for my imagination.
Though, now that I know what it feels like to have Jo’s fingers and mouth wrapped around my cock, my hand just hasn’t been doing the trick. But already, from simply lounging here in front of the dressing room where she’s stripping down, a familiar tingle bubbles down deep. I took a hard hit in the game last night, and I should definitely be home relaxing before the team leaves this afternoon for a road game tomorrow, but I wasn’t going to miss out on a chance to spoil my betrothed.
We have a rare three days off coming up, and that’s when I’ll be driving Jo down to West Virginia for the party. I volunteered to buy us plane tickets, but apparently she’s not a good flyer, so I promised I’d have the car gassed up and snacks prepared for the ride.
Can’t be mad at it, though. Seven hours alone with my favorite person? I am looking forward to it. If only she could pick out something to wear.
She opens the door to the dressing room with a frown, the first outfit on. It’s a long skirt that looks to be made out of leather, with a black top. I silently lift my index finger, circling it in the air, and she sneers at me but spins in a slow circle anyway. I don’t think she can move very much in the skirt, but the back of the top catches my eye. “Is that a hood?”
She refuses to put it up.
“Oh, come on. We need the whole look of it.”
Jo still doesn’t move, so I stand and lift the hood onto her head before stepping back, eyeing her. “Kinda reminds me of a nun.”
