“You know you own me. But do I own you?” I ran a finger along his jaw and to his bare chest. I didn’t stop there. My nails scraped his sides and I dropped to the floor between his knees. He leaned back while I pulled his warm up shorts from his legs. His cock sprung free and I smiled.
I licked the tip, tasting the freshness of the shower on him. I kissed the silky skin before gliding my tongue over the sensitive spot between his balls.
“Natalia.” He shoved his cock closer to me.
I positioned my mouth over it and sucked him in as he groaned loudly.
I sat back. “Is
it mine?”
“Keep going and I’ll tell you.” He reached for the back of my head, but I jerked to the side. My hand latched around his thick shaft.
“No, tell me you’re mine too, Sam. Tell me we own each other.”
I took another lick over the top of his cock, resisting the urge to suck him again. I needed an answer that would satisfy me. I would belong to him. I could admit that my body was his, but only if it was reciprocated. I needed to know he was just as much mine as I was his.
He tilted my chin upward, and pulled me into his lap. I knew from the look in his eye that he was going crazy with want. I had started and stopped something he loved.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“What?”
“This is yours,” he growled. He pried my shorts out of the way and pushed inside me. I rocked back into his arms. “I’m yours, Natalia.”
My shirt flew over my head and I gave him my breasts to suck. I pressed his head to my chest, feeling the pulse run through my body. I didn’t know what answer I was going to give him. I didn’t know if I could uproot everything I had done here, but what I did know was I was his and he was mine and it didn’t matter what teams we were on. Nothing would change that.
23
Sam
I didn’t think I’d ever say words like that again. I didn’t want to belong to someone. I didn’t want to love someone, but Natalia had upended all my plans this season, and why would this be any different? If the only way I could have her was to give her me, then that was the deal. Every part of her was mine. I made sure of that.
I didn’t drive to Austin planning on having a heavy relationship talk. I planned on spending the night fucking the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. But I ended up asking her to move in with me and offering to help her rehab. She was in my head. She was under my skin. I was drowning in her.
I watched her sleep next to me and traced a line between her shoulder blades. Her hair had fallen over her shoulder.
She told me she had to leave by seven to make it to early morning practice, but we still had a lot to discuss. I wanted her with me in San Antonio this week. One week of long-distance phone calls and a drive to see her wasn’t going to be enough.
I hated that Maddie called. I hated that she had my number. That she tried to throw me off my game for my night with Natalia. The moment I was finally happy again, she blindsided me with a desperate plea for help. Damn it.
I didn’t give a shit if she needed anything. I wasn’t her ATM, and I wasn’t her friend. It was enough to scare the hell out of me about getting involved with Natalia. But they were nothing alike. Nothing.
Natalia could never treat me the way Maddie did.
I had to fight the fear creeping under my ribs. I had to fight the thoughts to run and get out before she annihilated me. I was a different man now.
I turned off the lamp next to the bed and stretched my legs out beside her. She sighed softly and I pulled her against my chest. She fit there perfectly. This graceful, beautiful woman fit. Only I had to convince her of that tomorrow before I left. After that phone call, it seemed more important than ever. I needed her commitment. I needed her loyalty. I needed to know she was mine.
Natalia had been gone for two hours. I was working on making breakfast in the kitchen when my phone rang. It was Cavan.
“Hey, what’s up, man?”
“Sam, I was wondering if I could stop by and pick up one of the playbooks for tomorrow’s game. I never got one and the coordinators said you have those things memorized.”
“Yeah, but I’m out right now. It’ll have to be later.”
“Out? It’s nine o’clock in the morning.”