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Coach called on another reporter.

“How is your left shoulder feeling after that hit you took in the third quarter?”

I gave him my practiced, professional smile and ignored the fact that it hurt like hell. The hit had come at the one-yard line on a running play, but I’d gotten the ball into the end zone. “Nothing to worry about,” I answered. “Besides, it stopped hurting the second I saw the scoreboard.” We’d won thirty-two to eighteen.

A rumble of laughter came up from the reporters.

I tapped my finger on the table, and Coach caught the invisible signal.

“That’s it for Nixon,” he announced.

I got the hell out of there. The halls were still bustling with players, staff, and a few wide-eyed fans wearing badges as I made my way to the family room. I ran my fingers through my shower-damp hair as I walked into the giant lounge.

“There he is!” Roman threw his hands into the air from where he sat perched on the arm of a wide, deep chair where Liberty sat wearing purple chucks.

Fuck me, she wasn’t just wearing my jersey, she’d had it tailored into a dress. The thing hugged every curve she had and ended mid-thigh, which she was showing a lot of with her legs crossed like that. I instantly regretted wearing athletic pants as my dick hardened.

We’d been living together for three weeks, and other than that kiss we’d shared in the kitchen, we’d kept our hands to ourselves. I’d given myself one hell of a pat on the back for my self-control the night of the party—she’d nearly killed me in that dress, but this…

My mouth watered, remembering her taste.

“Sorry, I’m late. I had to do a little post-game conference,” I managed to say as I walked over to them, ignoring everyone else in the room.

“No problem.” She looked up at me with those incredible eyes of hers, and I lost the power of speech.

“I told her you’re always the last one out,” Teagan said with a shrug, but her smile turned sly as her gaze darted between Liberty and me.

“Can we go already?” Rick snapped, rising from the couch and putting his hand out for Teagan’s. “You kept your promise.”

“Yep!” She stood, and I noticed she was wearing the same style dress Liberty wore, but hers was black, where Liberty’s was purple. “Good game, guys!”

Rick put his hand at her lower back and ushered her out.

“Right, so all this eye-sex is getting a little too intense for me,” Roman said as he stood.

“I’m good with it,” Hendrix remarked with a smirk.

“For fuck’s sake,” Roman muttered as he dragged him away.

“You were great out there.” Liberty uncrossed her legs and rose in one smooth motion. She looked good enough to eat, and I was starving…but only for her.

“Want the backstage tour?” I asked, brushing off her compliment. I had to get her out of this room. Right. Now.

“Do you have a secret lair?”

“No, but I do have a secret shower.” I laced my fingers through hers and walked us out of the family room, turning right—back toward our locker room.

“You what?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” I nodded at a couple of familiar reporters as we walked down the hallway, counting each and every head I saw to keep my mind off my dick.

I led us down the small hallway just before our locker room, then used my key to open the door and flipped on the switch as I pulled Liberty inside.

“Does that other door lead to the main locker room?” She took in the small dressing room that led to the private shower and the door between them. My name stretched across her back, right between her shoulders.

“Yes.” I closed the door, clicked the lock, then spun her back toward me, flipping us so I had her pinned against the door.

She gasped, her eyes widening as her hands rose to my chest. “What are you—”

“I need to kiss you, so if you have any objections, now is a great time to let me know.” I braced my hands on either side of her head.

“Kiss me.” She tilted her face toward mine.

I didn’t hesitate. Our mouths collided and instantly opened. A groan rumbled through my chest at the taste of her as I thrust my tongue deep, sinking inside her with rhythmic, swirling strokes. My pulse jumped, and pure need shot through my veins like adrenaline, priming my body for the ride of my life.

A ride I logically knew we couldn’t take—not without having a serious conversation about the status of our relationship first. Not that I was going to fuck her in my dressing room. She deserved better than that. But this…we could have this.

“You are so damned beautiful,” I said against her lips as my hand skimmed her curves, stroking from her ribs to the indent of her waist and pausing to squeeze the flair of her hips. “This dress is driving me crazy.”


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