Page 70 of The Player

“Good. This moving shit has me broke.”

“And I’m taking the ficus,” Bailey added.

Nicole turned toward the plant beside the window. “Who said you could take the ficus?”

“Because if it stays here, you’ll kill it.”

“Wow. It’s like that?”

Bailey reached for the nearest pillow, but Nicole caught the other end before she could lift it. “Let go,” Bailey said.

“You’re already taking the plant. Leave me something.”

That made Bailey laugh hard enough to loosen her grip. Nicole snatched the pillow away and barely had time to look pleased with herself before Bailey grabbed another one and swung.

Chapter Thirty

Drew took one look at Nicole and forgot what the hell he’d been about to say.

She stood with one hand braced against the doorframe, wearing a short black silk robe she hadn’t bothered to tie. Under it, she had on red lace, a bra that had her tits pushed up and a tiny matching thong, and not a damn thing else. That body was a fucking hourglass, her waist small enough that he could almost get his hands around it and her hips curving out wide underneath. Fuck, where was he supposed to look first? Every time he picked a spot, he found another one he liked just as much.

His eyes went all the way down to her bare feet, her toenails painted the same dark red as her lips and fingernails, then came right back up. She’d done something to her hair too. It was bigger tonight, falling past her shoulders, and the smoky makeup made her eyes even sexier.

“Hi,” she said.

God, I love you. The words were right there while she stood smiling up at him, hot as fuck. How’d he get so lucky? Talking to her from the team hotel had been better than nothing, but he’d missed having her with him.

He stepped inside, not wanting the neighbors to see his hot-ass girlfriend in her lingerie, kicked the door shut, and let his bag fall to the floor. “Fuuuck, you look good,” he said, pulling her against him.

Just like that, the high from yesterday’s game didn’t mean shit anymore. Standing here with Nicole, knowing she was his girl, felt better than any win. He’d never put anything ahead of football. Not a damn thing, until her.

Nicole kissed him, then pulled back way too soon. “Take your clothes off.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He was already pulling his shirt over his head when the rest of the room finally registered. There were candles everywhere and a fire going, “Tender Love” was playing low, and there was a big, thick rug in front of the fireplace he’d never seen before. He’d been too busy looking at her to notice any of it.

He grabbed her waist and kissed her, walking her back until her legs hit the cushions. She sank onto them and pulled him down with her, and he got one knee onto the couch before he ran out of room. His other foot was still planted on the floor. Six-four on a couch that size was never going to work.

He pushed the robe off her shoulders, and she shrugged out of it.

“Better,” he said against her mouth.

She laughed into the kiss. He sat up to deal with his shoes and socks, which was a pain in the ass, then had to stand up to kick off his jeans and boxer briefs a lot less smoothly than he meant to. Then he looked down at her stretched out in red lace, her hair spread across the cushion, and had to take a second.

“Drew.”

“I’m looking.”

“Help yourself. Then come here. I need you.”

When he leaned over her again, Nicole ran her hands up his back, and he settled between her legs. He wasn’t in a hurry to get past her mouth. He kissed her bottom lip, the corner, then met her lips when she tipped her chin up. Her fingers moved into his hair, holding him close.

His hand trailed down her side, over the dip of her waist, and spread across her hip. She shifted under him, the lace of her bra brushing his chest as he kissed down her throat to the top of her tits. Her breath changed. One knee rose along his hip, and he rocked against her without really deciding to.

Fuck, she felt good. Even through the thin fabric, the slow drag of her hips under his made his stomach pull tight. He rocked into her again, and Nicole held on tighter, her heel pressing into the back of his thigh. He kept the pace lazy and kissed her while they moved. The music was low enough that he could hear her breathe.

He slipped a hand under her, palming her ass, and she arched into it. For a while, he was caught up in her, the way she moved under him and the smell of her skin when he lowered his face to her neck. He could’ve gone on like that if he hadn’t been about to put a knee through her couch.

“Baby.” He kissed her jaw. “This couch ain’t built for me.”