Frustrating woman. “Let me show you.”
Her eyes stray to my cock that’s hard and getting harder by the second with her eyes on me. “I’m…” She swallows hard. “I’m good.”
“Samantha.” I reach out, placing my finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to mine. “Please? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I have something to show you, and before you spout off something about my cock, that’s not it. Please, let me show you, and if you want to leave after that, I’ll let you go without a complaint.” For tonight that is. I’m not giving up on her that easily. I know without a doubt she’s the one for me.
“Jase,” she says with a sigh.
She’s wavering. Sliding my hand into hers, I hold her gaze. “Come with me.” I stare into her big brown eyes, willing her to trust me.
“Five minutes,” she relents. “I’ll come inside for five minutes.” Her voice is stern and settled, but once she sees what I have in store for her, I’m hoping she’ll change her mind.
“Thank you, beautiful.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Follow me.” With her hand still clasped tightly in mine, I lead her into my house. This isn’t the first time she’s been here. I’ve had get-togethers and insisted that Royce get her here, no matter what he had to do. She’s been in my home, but never just the two of us. “Close your eyes,” I say once we’re inside.
“Jase—” She starts, but I stop her with another kiss. This time to the corner of her mouth.
“Please, Sam. Trust me.” I give her hand a soft squeeze, willing her to do just that.
She nods. “Okay.” Her voice is soft, and I know she’s worried, but she doesn’t need to be. Never with me. Her eyes slide closed, and my heart swells. I’m finally making progress with her.
Moving to stand behind her, I push her long locks to one shoulder and place my hands on her hips. “I’m right here,” I whisper in her ear. She shivers at the contact, and my smile grows. “Over a year, Samantha… I’ve wanted you for over a year.” I keep my voice soft as we walk as one into the living room. “You ready for your surprise, baby?” I ask her. This time I place a soft kiss just under her ear.
“Y-Yes,” she murmurs.
“Open your eyes, Samantha.”
She sucks in a breath as she takes in the sight before her. “W-What is this?”
“This is our first date.”
“What?” she breathes.
I tighten my arms around her. “You’re right about me in one aspect. I am a player.” She stiffens in my arms. “Football was my life from the time I was old enough to hold a ball, and it’s still a huge part of who I am, even though I’m retired. I’m playing, beautiful, but I always play to win.”
“What exactly are you planning to win?” she asks, turning her head to look at me from over her shoulder.
“You. Your heart.” I push back a strand of hair that has fallen over her eyes. “This isn’t a game, but this is my hail Mary to win you over. Have dinner with me?” I say, nodding to the picnic I’ve arranged on my living room floor.
“I can’t believe you did all of this. How did you—?” She stops. “You didn’t accidentally leave your phone at the office, did you?”
“Nope.” I wink at her. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get time with you.”
“What are we having?” she asks, turning her gaze back to the living room.
“Chicken salad sandwiches, fresh fruit, and turtle cheesecake for dessert.”
“How did you—?” she starts and stops.
“I know you, Sam. I’ve watched you for months, memorizing every detail. I know you love chicken salad from Sanderson’s market. I know that fresh strawberries and grapes are your favorites, and I know that turtle cheesecake is your indulgence.”
“Jase.” My name is a whisper from her lips.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I—” She shakes her head.
Moving to stand in front of her, I place my hands on either side of her face. Brown eyes meet blue as I hold her gaze—willing her to say yes. “Samantha, will you allow me the honor of your company and have dinner with me?”
“So formal,” she teases, a blinding smile lighting up her face.
“I’m not ashamed to admit I’m pulling out the big guns.”
She nods. “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”
“Thank fuck,” I mumble, placing a kiss to her forehead. I lead her to the picnic area I have set up in the middle of my living room floor. She puts her hand on my shoulder for balance as she removes her black heels, and hikes up her skirt to step up on the platform I’ve created. Not wearing shoes, I step up next to her and take her hand helping her sit, then take the spot next to her, and begin to unpack the picnic basket. I notice there is a slight tremble in my hands. I’ve played football in front of millions of people. There are pictures of me in nothing but my tight-as-fuck boxer briefs on billboards across the United States, and none of that made me the least bit nervous. Sitting next to a beautiful woman, one who’s done nothing but consume my mind for the last year, makes me nervous. She’s giving me an opening, and I don’t want to mess this up.