Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

“You know the rules in this room.” I growled in her ear, my cock hardening at the thought of her crawling in my bed naked. Her perfect ass bare. Her tits exposed. My hand slid under her shirt, working up under her bra.

She sighed as I rubbed her nipple with the pad of my thumb. It peaked under my touch. “You’re killing me, Doc. I need you. Now,” I growled.

“I have a surgery this morning. You have to stop.” She backed away and straightened her shirt.

“And I have hours of film to watch.” I hung my head, fighting off the need to take her. She was irresistible. She was like a drug. One touch wasn’t enough. One kiss wasn’t enough.

“Can’t promise I’ll be up when you get home, but I do promise to be naked.” She kissed me, and I slapped her on the ass.

“See you tonight, then.”

“Forgot my coffee,” she mumbled and rushed to the kitchen.

I followed her. “

Hey, Lennon. I wanted to ask you something.”

She pulled a thermal cup from the cabinet. “What is it?”

I scratched the back of my head. As if last Sunday wasn’t enough of a first with my parents, this was going to be another zinger. “I want you to fly up to D.C. with me for the game Sunday.”

She fastened the lid and spun to look at me. “You want me to go to the playoff game?”

I’d never taken a woman on the road. I’d never wanted to. Never needed to. There were always women in whatever city we played. But looking ahead to Sunday, I didn’t want to leave Lennon behind. I wanted her with me wherever I was.

“Yeah, thought it’d be fun.”

“But your mom said you couldn’t be distracted. And besides, they’re going. I don’t think your dad is my biggest fan.”

“Don’t worry about them. You already knew my dad was an ass. I want you there with me. We’ll have our own suite.”

“But don’t you have to stay with the team?”

“Well, yeah. Team hotel, but it’s not like I have a roommate. I’m the QB. I promise you’ll love it. I’ll fly you up on Saturday.”

She did that nervous thing where she clicked her fingers against the counter. “You sure? D.C.?”

“I’m positive. I want you there. I liked having you in my box.”

“All right. I’d love to go.” She picked up her keys. “I’ve gotta go. I’m late.”

“Bye.”

I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. When had I become this man? I was so fucking crazy about her, I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want another woman. I didn’t care about the poker games anymore. Nothing mattered to me other than football and Lennon.

I leaned against the kitchen counter. Maybe it was all the drugs pumping through my system, or maybe this was the side effect of falling for Dr. Ashworth.

20

Lennon

We would be landing in D.C. in twenty minutes. I fidgeted with my cocktail napkin and looked out the window as the plane began to descend. I should have told him. I thought about it all week. And what Gloria had said was true. Playoffs were a time we’d never see each other.

He crawled into bed so late I didn’t know what time it was, and it wasn’t really the right time to tell him I’d left an ex of a live-in relationship behind in the city we were traveling to. Besides, would Wes even care? He’d never asked about my past. It was as if we had some unspoken rule about talking about our previous lives.

I tried to push Ben out of my head. D.C. was a huge city and there was no reason to see him or relive the hurtful memories. I was happy with Wes.

I pulled my luggage behind me down the jetway and looked for the sign with my name. Wes liked to arrange cars for me.