Indeed.
I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.
But I want more. I want to please this woman to the stars and back. It’s my kink, my passion, my pleasure. Giving.
“Katie, tell me what you want to do tonight,” I murmur. I don’t want to lead her into temptation. I want her to find it from within.
She pouts. “I want you to take me home, spread me out on my bed, and do dirty things to me all night long.”
Yes, there is a God.
“Taxi,” I say, then bring my fingers to my lips like I’m about to whistle for one.
“But . . .”
That word is the door slamming on all my wedding fantasies. “Aww, why does there have to be a ‘but’ when I want to deliver everything you want?”
She smiles softly, but sadly too. “I have to leave soon. My sister, Olive, is flying in tonight, and I need to pick her up in an hour. We have a meeting tomorrow morning for a new business venture.”
That sounds exciting.
And thoroughly cock-blocking.
But if I’ve learned one thing playing pro ball, it’s that the play doesn’t always go the way you planned. Sometimes your quarterback hands off so you can run with the ball. Sometimes he calls an audible and passes. Your success depends on how quickly you react to the action on the field.
“Let’s see, then,” I say, because I can react damn quickly. “It’s Thursday night now. I’m on game lockdown Friday through Sunday. I have a sponsor event Monday night. How’s Tuesday?”
She blinks, taking a second to catch up to my question. But she quickly does, and her blue eyes twinkle.
To be sure, though, I add, “By ‘Tuesday,’ I mean I’m asking you on a date. I want to take you out on the town. Have a good time with you. Then do to you all those decadent things that are racing through my head right now.”
Katie’s nimble fingers make their way up my tie. She tugs, yanking me closer. “Tell me one naughty thing. Wait. Hold on. Tell me where you’re going to take me out first,” she says, letting go of my tie to run her palms down my chest, covering my pecs. “Then you can tell me something deliciously dirty.”
Oh, I like the way her mind works. She knows her worth.
My fingers wander across her stomach, making playful circles as I answer. “I bet you’d like to do something a little competitive, a little showy.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I’m showy? You think I’m showy?”
“I sure do, and I think it’s sexy as hell. Now, let me finish, woman.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine. Finish.”
I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought. “I could take you out bowling, ballroom dancing, or to play my second-favorite sport.”
“Sex is your second-favorite sport?” She bats her lashes ever so innocently.
I toss my head back, laughing. “Sweetheart, sex is not a sport. For it to be a sport, it would require rules, regulations, and competition. And sex should never be a competition.”
“What is it, then?”
I don’t answer right away, but shoot her a sly, knowing grin. Then I speak the truth from the bottom of my heart . . . and cock. “Sex is a devotion, ideally to the woman’s pleasure.”
She murmurs her approval. “Ultimate Charmer. That’s you.”
“I will wear that title with pride. Now, as I was saying, my second-favorite sport. Want to know what that is?”
“You know I do.”
“It’s only one letter different from the one I play for a living . . .” I trail off, eager to see how quickly she’ll figure it out.
She furrows her brow, and then one, two seconds, later, her eyes pop. “Foosball! I love foosball.” She pokes my chest. “Bowling and foosball, pretty please. Then . . . devotion,” she says, all low and seductive, like a phone sex operator.
“Tuesday night, Katie. It is on.” I haul her in for another hot, passionate kiss, and we seal our plans for the best kind of date. I swallow her sighs, devouring her sounds.
Maybe I’m a player. Maybe I came here tonight with my one-track mind on a mission. And yes, I desperately want to get Katie naked and writhing under me, but I’m also having a fantastic time talking to her.
I’ve got a feeling with her, one I’ve never had before.
A feeling that there’s something brewing.
Something that sparks with fresh and daring possibilities.
But tonight, the clock is ticking, so I break the kiss. “When do you need to go, sweetheart?”
She reaches for her purse from the wall, clicks it open, and takes out her phone. “I should leave in fifteen minutes.” Her blue irises flicker with mischief. “You know, there’s a lot we can do in fifteen minutes.”
How did I get so lucky and this woman so amazing?
I must have been a very good boy in a past life.