Page 37 of Elite Player
Which is maybe what makes it so easy to agree. If it’s not real, I have nothing to lose. Except for my virginity.
“So what do you say, Jo? We doing this?”
Instead of verbally answering, I loop my arms around his neck and kiss him.
CHAPTER 11
NICO
Whatever Josephine lacks in experience,she sure makes up for with enthusiasm. Her lips and tongue are out of sync, but I like the way she clings to me. Like the way she moans into my mouth and pushes up onto her toes, as if she can’t get close enough.
Taking my cues from her, I bend slightly to grip her thighs and lift her up. She gasps and lowers her attention between us, almost like she can’t believe I’m holding her. “I have you,” I tell her, and I tip my head back toward the couch on the far wall. “Mind if we move this party?”
When she shakes her head, I carry her to the couch and settle her on my lap, knees on either side of my hips, and as much as I’m tempted by the sight of her kiss-swollen lips, I clamp my hands on her waist, keeping us separated at a respectable distance. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” she parrots, a cute little divot between her brows as if the word is foreign to her.
“Yeah, talk.” As much as I’m experienced, I don’t want to fuck this up. I can’t make a mistake with her. Aside from the fact that we need to keep up our charade of an engagement and doingthiswill complicate it, I hope she considers me her friend.
I hope that she’s not afraid to show me her insecurities, that she knows I’ll always take care of her and protect her.
Because she’s had me in a choke hold. Since that day in the hospital, when I walked in on her family visit and I saw those glassy brown eyes. I did what I could then to protect her, and I will continue to. I will look out for her, always.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I need to understand where we’re starting from.” I inch my fingers under her sweatshirt. “What exactly have you done?”
She tries to hide behind her hair, staring down at where she picks at the hem of my T-shirt, mumbling something that sounds like “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” She doesn’t respond, so I hook my index finger under her chin. “Hey, Jo. Look at me.” When she finally meets my eyes, I trace my knuckles along her jaw. “We’re only doing this if you want to. No hard feelings if you change your mind.”
Of all the things I’ve learned about this woman, the most intriguing piece of her is the juxtaposition of self-doubt and the absolute assurance of who she is.
She has goals and she knows what she wants, yet she’s not sure if she deserves any of it.
But I’m happy to be her personal cheerleader. I’m more than willing to remind her as often as it takes that she doesn’t have to be afraid to go after what she wants.
“We can call it a day right now, if that’s what you want. But if you want more…” I shift her forward on my lap, dragging my hands over her thighs. “You have to tell me. I need to hear your words. I need you to tell me what you want me to do.”
Her throat bobs on a swallow, and I see the moment she makes the decision, her teeth releasing her lip, her fingers extending up over my stomach. “I want you to kiss me again.”
I smile and curl my hand around her neck, guiding her to me, our mouths meeting, and we spend a long time simply discovering each other. How she tends to hesitate, retreating back a step, after making a bold move. Like when she lets her handsroam up my chest, to my throat, before removing them completely. I stop kissing her only long enough to pointedly arch my brows at her and place her hands back on me. Then I test her a little by lowering my mouth to her throat, kissing a spot under her jaw. That’s when her fingers tunnel into the hair at the nape of my neck, a silent direction, so I keep going, licking and sucking her there to find out what she likes. She probably doesn’t even know, and I’m more than happy to help her explore.
I smile to myself when she shifts on top of me, widening her thighs, her black Chucks long forgotten so her socked toes dig into the outside of my kneecaps as if she can’t get comfortable. It’s probably those tight, ripped jeans, but we have to crawl before we sprint, and while I don’t think it’s a great idea to take off any clothes—no matter how much I want to see the curves I’ve been palming for the last ten minutes—it wouldn’t hurt to make her more comfortable.
“Here,” I murmur, curling my arm around her waist to transition us down to the couch, laying her on her back as I hold myself above her. “This okay?”
She nods, though she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, moving them from the cushion to me back to the cushion then settling on the armrest behind her head. I shouldn’t laugh, but her restlessness is cute, and I tell her so.
She blushes. “You don’t need to do that.”
“What?”
“Lie to me.”
I wrench back. “I’m not lying. You are cute.”
She slants her eyes away from me with an annoyed puff of her breath, and well… If she’s going to be difficult…
“You think this feels like I’m lying?” I roll my hips so she feels my erection through my shorts and her jeans, and she whips her focus back to me with wide eyes, color high on her cheeks. “Yeah.” I nod in challenge. “This is because of you, soyou can throw out whatever stupid notion you have in your head that I’m not attracted to you. Because I am.”
