Page 136 of The Score We Never Settled

With a newfound purpose tonight, I carry Layla Jean to the front door of the bar with Riley’s sweatshirt over her head when I hear Theo yell out, “Flight’s at seven, buddy. Let that woman get some sleep.”

“She can sleep on the plane.”

39

LAYLA

“Every city, Layla Jean,”Briggs mutters gruffly in my ear, thrusting his cock deeper inside me, which only pushes my body harder into the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Louisville. “You’re gonna have my dick inside you everywhere we go. Every location we stop at. You’re gonna feel how many times I wish you were with me and how I had to use my hand instead of this perfect cunt. Got a lot of makin’ up to do, woman.”

I only have one place I’ve ever stayed, so any retort or response I may have wouldn’t compare to the way Briggs travelled alone without me.

However, I’m still enjoying it all the same.

We got zero sleep last night, which I fully expected because the man is an animal when he gets his hands on me, but he made some sort of special arrangements, and we boarded the plane with his team.

He got us up front, away from his teammates, and we napped for a good six hours before landing.

Surprisingly, his teammates didn’t make a lot of noise—probably exhausted from their stressful Series they just won—but I did get random handshakes with them, introducingthemselves politely before Briggs would wave them away from lingering too long.

He had a meeting this morning, as soon as they landed, where I fell back asleep. When he came back, he had breakfast sent up, and now he’s fucking me against the window before he has to head back down for a mini practice session.

“Are we doing this?” Briggs suddenly asks me. “Are you mine, Layla Jean? I won you the playoff series. We were down two games; we shouldn’t have come out on top.”

I haven’t told him that I’m riding the rest of the season with him. I’ve been too busy just enjoying the moments of us being together that I didn’t want to rile him all up when I need him to focus.

But he’s going to find out anyway.

I have so much to tell him, I don’t even know where to start.

“I wouldn’t just let any man push my naked body against glass, Briggs Kerrigan,” I mutter. “I’m so yours. I want this to work for both of us.”

He cups my face and turns it to slam his lips into mine.

His kiss is vicious but soft when he slightly pulls at my lips. His hips rocking with more purpose as if he needed any more.

He growls when he hits a spot he likes, and I push against him a little bit for him to ride that small high.

“I have a few surprises for you.”

His lips trail to my jaw and back up to my ear. “Is it you coming on this cock ’cause I need that, Short Stop. I need to feel you clench around me again.”

Those words are like liquid fire in my stomach, licking and boiling me to a new temp of just being hot and completely turned on with everything going on.

“I can do that,” I mutter softly, my fingers curling for something to ground on, but there’s nothing to hold on to. “Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of that,” he praises. “I also like that I’m going to be wearing you on my cock when I go practice for a little while.”

Oh.

My.

God.

“Please do not take off your team’s t-shirt when you get back,” I beg. “I want to suck your cock when?—”

“Fuck,” he leers, his dick twitching inside me as his pace increases. “Don’t tease me, Layla Jean. I need to focus.”

“Then I won’t tell you about it after the game tonight when you’re in your jersey.”