“You’re different,” she gasps, leaning in to sip at my skin, her pink tongue sneaking out to lick at my collarbone, my chest. “You’re my Eric. I know that now.”
“God, thank God.” I didn’t realize how sick it made me, how anxious to know she’d lumped me in with the athletes she’s witnessed behaving badly. I would never hurt her, never betray her…
Isn’t that what you did by signing the wrong name on the contract?
Making her falsely believe you were giving her a choice?
Guilt causes me to stroke her snug hole one more time, before withdrawing my hand reluctantly. “Thank you, Greta. For saying that.” I kiss her shoulder, inhaling her scent desperately. “Dammit, I don’t want to get out of this bed, but it’s my first practice. I need to set the tone for everyone else.”
A smile flirts with her mouth. “And what tone is that?”
“That we show up early, win at all costs. And there’s no slacking off.” Unable to take my eyes off her beautiful face, I force myself to throw back the covers and climb out of bed, wincing over the stiff length of my cock. “I won’t allow my girl to be with anyone less than a champion,” I rasp, stroking myself once, twice, watching smoke drift into Greta’s eyes as she watches the action, her tongue trailing across her bottom lip eagerly.
Come beads on the head of my dick, dribbling down onto my knuckles. “When you’re watching practice today, remember what you’ll be getting between your thighs afterward.” I let out a shuddering breath, imagining her naked, splayed out, moaning for me to go faster. “Think about how it’ll feel, fucking in and out of you. Ahhh, angel. Getting so deep in that tight, juicy pussy. Think about getting ridden hard, like a bad little girl. Should guarantee you’ll be wet enough for me to rip off your panties and thrust right in as soon as the buzzer sounds, shouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” she pants, sounding dazed.
“Good girl.” Still holding my erection, I move to the side of the bed, leaning down to kiss her soft, perfect mouth. “Shower and get dressed. You’re coming with me. We go together. Now and always.”
An hour later, I guide Greta through the players’ tunnel toward the court, my arm around her shoulders. In the seven years I’ve been in the league, I’ve never truly felt like I’ve made it until this moment. Most days I felt like an imposter. Or like I didn’t deserve success after what happened to Wade at that frat party. On my watch. When I should have been there for him. Yeah, I’ve never really felt wealthy until now. Having Greta tucked into my side trustingly is true wealth.
The only kind that matters.
When we come out on the other side of the tunnel, I see I’m the second player to arrive. Coach Welding is there, too, sitting on the sidelines and writing into a notebook. He does a double take when he sees me with Greta. This man is my future father-in-law, not to mention we’re going to be working together to win basketball games. The last thing I need is to be at odds with him, but I can’t help locking in that final claim on Greta. Looking him in the eye while I kiss her forehead, settling her down in a front row seat to observe practice. Leaning down to stroke my tongue into her mouth, I leave no doubt as to what we did last night and what I plan on doing every single night, forever. I’m the only man in her life now.
I tip her chin up, enjoying the fact that my kiss turned her cheeks pink, breathless. “If you need anything while I’m practicing, you let me know.”
“I’m not going to interrupt you.”
“If you need something, angel, I want to know about it.”
Slowly, she nods, her gaze traveling downward from my face to my lap, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and chewing. On the way to the arena, we kissed at every stoplight, our hands constantly reaching for one another across the console of my SUV, brushing skin, teasing. She’s hard up for a fuck, no mistaking it, and I need to get through this first practice with my new team so I can give it to her. God knows I’m burning alive for her, too. Probably won’t have a moment’s peace from my lust for Greta until the very last breath I take.
Greta
It’s safe to say I’m officially over my aversion to basketball players.
Or maybe this newfound appreciation for them is all about Eric?
Oh yeah. Definitely just Eric.
I can’t take my eyes off of him during the practice, my fingers curled into the edge of the seat, legs crossed beneath my skirt to hide panties that dampen every time he barks an authoritative order on the court. My pulse flutters in more than just my veins, there is a pulse between my thighs that beats in a low, tumultuous rhythm, my entire body feeling hot and flushed.