Her delicate fingers circled my neck, drawing me closer. “Let’s stay,” she whispered.
“God, you’re killing me. I want to. You’re a fucking temptress. You know that?”
She moaned, nipping at my lips. If we weren’t outside in the bright sunlight, I’d show her exactly how tempted she made me. But there were boaters on the lake and the owners were somewhere on the property.
“Your temptress,” she purred.
I closed my eyes. “Let’s get out of here, or this entire lake is going to see what we do best together.”
She swallowed hard and blushed. “Sam, I don’t know whether to stop you or let you do it.”
I laughed. “We still have the cabin for thirty minutes. Come on.”
I would have rented the damn cabin for the entire week, but we both had work waiting for us. I’d take a beating in practice tomorrow and Natalia was preparing for a road game. We couldn’t shack up all week and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
I drove back to the city with the taste of her still on my lips.
I had every intention of asking her to move in with me again, but I wanted last night to be about her. I wanted to show her another side of me. A side a beautiful French ballerina would want. Romance and attentiveness. I wanted to listen to her talk, and hold her while she came. I wanted to give her a perfect night, so she’d want more.
I slammed my hand on the wheel. It was perfect. All my moments with her were.
I pulled into the parking garage and took the elevator to my floor. I locked the door behind me. There had to be a way to get her here. She didn’t need Austin or the Warriors. I’d hire the best trainer. She would have her position back as prima ballerina. I could guarantee it.
I walked into the spare bedroom in my apartment. I didn’t know if I could transform it into the same type of studio she had, but there was nothing stopping me from moving. We could have a bigger place. Somewhere that was ours that she could deck out with whatever equipment dancers needed.
I picked up my phone and called the agent for my building.
“Hey, it’s Sam Hickson. I want to talk to you about moving.”
The agent sounded startled. “Mr. Hickson, it’s so good to hear from you.”
“Thanks. What’s open in the building?”
“We have a studio on the first floor.” He sounded as if he was looking through his listings. “There is a four-bedroom for sale above you, but that’s a lot of space for a single guy.”
“I’ll take it.” I was quick to respond.
“But you haven’t seen it. We haven’t talked price.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I knew what was in my b
ank account and I knew the going rate for units in this building. I could buy it and list this one.
“Would you like to see it?”
“How about now?”
“Yes, of course. Now works for me. I’ll meet you there with the keys. The owners have already moved out, so it’s vacant. I hope that’s okay.”
“Even better. I’ll walk upstairs.”
I hung up and grabbed my keys. I hadn’t worried about finding a bigger place because I didn’t need room for anyone other than myself. An extra room made my apartment plenty big. I usually met the guys at their places or the bars, and I either worked out at the team facilities or in the gym downstairs.
I climbed the stairs to the next floor. Phil was waiting for me.
“I think you’re going to like this place.” He jingled the keys in his hand.
“Great.”