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So he told himself to resist Aubrey Cooper no matter how much he was drawn to her. She made him want to do every dirty, wicked thing he could imagine—and he wasn’t one to let dirty, wicked thoughts derail him from his goals.

Just looking at her, thinking about her messed with his game play. So what the hell was he doing right now, kissing her? This had “mistake” written all over it.

But the magnetic pull between them had been too much to deny. She fit perfectly in his arms. The sweet, honeyed taste of her mouth, how her delicate, wet tongue circled around his, the soft murmuring sounds of pleasure coming from deep in her throat. She’d wound her arms around his neck, her fingers plunged into his short hair, stroking his scalp. Her curvy body was nestled close, and though she wore sexy-as-hell black boots with the highest heels he’d ever seen, he still towered over her.

Flynn broke the kiss first, staring at Aubrey like he was starstruck. Temptation flashed through him. What would she do if he picked her up, his hands gripping that pert ass, and pushed her against the tree? Would she protest or give in with ease? He could slip his hands under the hem of her dress, though she was wearing black tights. He’d rather encounter bare, soft skin…

He’d done a lot of things in his life sexually. Not lately, though. When he was younger, yeah, but once he’d gone pro, he’d wanted zero distractions. His focus was razor sharp and always on his career. Always on football. No girlfriends, no side pieces, no one-night stands, no groupies, none of that. They didn’t tempt him. No one tempted him. This was how he kept his virginity intact.

Yes, his virginity. He’d had blowjobs, he’d fooled around with women, he’d gone down on them, but he’d never done the deed. He’d decided never to go that far so he wasn’t distracted from football, which had become his whole life. The media might’ve even joked about it, that he saved himself for football. Put in bold print, it sounded kind of lame.

Damn it, though, it was the truth. His focus was all about football. He’d soon started ignoring women completely to focus on the game. He wanted to be the best, and at one point, he’d felt on top of the world.

Then all focus had swerved away from his playing abilities and on to his virgin status. And then it had become this thing that hung over him, reminded him of what an anomaly he was. How his fellow teammates thought he was some sort of weirdo who didn’t like sex.

Aubrey cracked open her eyes, studying him like he’d lost his mind. Which he sort of had—over her. He kissed her again before she could say a word, losing himself in her sweet lips, the soft little moans sounding low in her throat.

He liked sex. And he liked the woman in his arms plenty. So much, that he’d kept her at arm’s length for months for fear of falling hard for her and ruining his concentration. Besides, he wasn’t much of a rule breaker, damn it. If it was against company policy to date a fellow employee, then he wasn’t going to do it.

But screw it. He felt as if everything was uncertain right now, up in the air, unconfirmed. Walsh wasn’t talking—at least he wasn’t talking enough. The conversation they’d had before Aubrey had interrupted them had been full of nothing but a bunch of crap. Coach had acted downright evasive.

The vibe he was getting from his coach? He didn’t like it. At all.

He was tired of worrying about things that were out of his control. What was the big deal if he kissed Aubrey anyway? Maybe he could work her out of his system. Maybe kissing her wouldn’t be all that special and he could walk away from this.

Ha. Tell that to his overheated, turned-inside-out body.

Flynn broke away from Aubrey’s lips to catch some air, though really, he wanted to look at her, memorize this moment when he’d first kissed Aubrey. Even in the dim light, he could see her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed. She opened her eyes, the dazed look in them sending an arrow of arousal shooting straight through him, making his cock twitch. Pride suffused him. He put that look on her face.

“Flynn.” She pursed her lips, exhaling softly, the sound shaky. “What in the world was that?”

He smiled. She was a bundle of nerves, his publicist. Always running around, a little manic, a lot frantic, riding his ass to do this, do that. She’d been harder on Hamilton, but that crazy guy needed someone to rein him in most of the time.

“I thought it was a kiss? Unless I’m doing it wrong…” A chuckle escaped him, and he hoped she was in on the joke.

“No. You were definitely not doing it wrong.” She blew out a trembling breath, her gaze cautious. “I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page.”

“We

ll, I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page.” Leaning in, he nuzzled her cheek with his, kissing a soft path along her fragrant skin until his mouth was on hers once more. “A shame you didn’t recognize it.”

She smiled against his lips, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I just thought…”

“Thinking gets you nowhere,” he whispered just before he took the kiss deeper, his tongue thrusting, his mouth devouring. She was a thinker, which meant she set her brain to smoking more often than not. And he wanted her feeling, not thinking or worrying.

He gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her in, wanting her as close as he could get her. This…thing between them had been brewing for a while, torturing him. She’d been by his side almost constantly the past few months, guiding his career, carefully preserving his image.

Every time he was with her, the scent of her hair drove him wild. The way he caught her looking at him, her gaze hungry, her lips damp, echoed an answering call deep within him.

When it came to the women from his past, he’d tended to fall hard and fast, so he generally ruled out all women during the regular season. It was easier that way. He didn’t need sex like the majority of his teammates. He loved women, but he wasn’t a dog, didn’t crave that constant attention the groupies were more than willing to provide. He needed to focus on bettering his game, improving his arm, making himself an invaluable player to the team.

Plus, as weird as it was to admit, the virgin thing brought him a lot of attention. A lot of positive attention, and not just from the female fans. Though they were ever present, dying to help take his virginity in any way they knew how.

That was sort of embarrassing.

Funny, how no other women interested him, though. Not like this one, who was all soft and warm in his arms, her full breasts pressed against his chest, her hands sliding down from his neck to grip at his shoulders with an intensity that told him she wanted more.

Which worked for him because he wanted more, too—plenty more.


Tags: Karen Erickson Game for It Romance