Page 35 of Sportsball is for Lovers

twelve

. . .

Jared

Sadie practically throwsherself at me, her hands clawing at the lapels of my jacket and tugging my body into her. I let her manhandle me—for now—until we’re pressed flush together and her mouth is on mine. My hands land on her hips, one sliding around to the small of her back. She grunts and deepens the kiss, slipping her tongue into my mouth.

I wrench myself away.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” I tell her.

Her eyebrow raises.

“We’re going to go back inside. You can have one more drink. Dance a little. And then when the night is over, I’m going to take you upstairs, worship that goddamn gorgeous body of yours, and then fuck you comatose.”

Her eyes dilate.

“You good with that?”

She makes a high-pitched keening sound.

“I need consent, babe,” I say.

I don’t know how it’s so easy to slip into the Dom role when sex is on the line, but I can’t sustain that confidence without it. When people question my intelligence, when they doubt my capabilities, it’s almost like it’s a personal failing.

With sex, though, it’s easy. There isn’t a manual, there isn’t one way to do anything, but pleasure is pleasure is pleasure, and what brings me mine is bringing her hers.

“Can’t we just go upstairs now?” There’s a hitch in her voice, the slightest hint of a whine. Fuck, she falls into the sub role so well.

Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, I stroke my thumb across her cheek.

“Later. Enjoy the time with your friends. You don’t get to see them often.”

Her eyes narrow, clearly confused. “How do you know that?”

“I talk to my brother.” I kiss her again. “I know how much this weekend means to you.”

“But—”

“Your flight leaves midmorning. We have plenty of time tonight.”

Sadie lets out a soft pant, bordering on a whine when I suck on the edge of her jaw. I want to bring her back to my place, really show her a good time, but seeing as we’re already in a hotel with plenty of beds…

There’s nobody in the dark alcove, but someone could easily open the ballroom doors and come upon us.

Grabbing her hand, I lead her deeper into the crevice of the dark corner. Sadie’s eyes are dark on mine when I push her against the wall.

“Where’s your head?” I ask as I fall to my knees.

“I’ve had one drink,” she reports immediately. “I had maybe two sips of a second glass.”

“You’re able to consent?”

She blows out a heavy breath. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

The full skirt of her ballgown floats between us. Slipping my hands underneath, I set them across her ankles, squeezing gently. She stands upright in a hurry.

“You’re going to relax,” I tell her, caressing the soft skin at the top of her feet. “I’m going to bring you pleasure. Nobody will know that it’s me with my head buried up your dress. Do you understand?”