Page 76 of Off Limits: The Firsts

God. Damn.

Chaos has never looked so damn inviting.

I won the battle last night, but I know there’s a war still ahead of me. She’s been left, is going to be left again, and there’s nothing I can do to protect her from it.

But it all makes sense now. Her not wanting me to get too close. Her closing herself off. Trust being a hard thing and fear being a reality.

Her fears are valid. I get them but don’t understand them. And yet I need to figure out how to make her not feel them when she thinks of me.

Last night was the first step in a long journey, but fuck if I don’t want to take it with her.

Look at her. She’s fiery. Beautiful. Funny. Intelligent. But more than all of that, she gets me—my thoughts and my love/hate relationship with this game. She gets this career I have, which to most others is exciting but disruptive as hell to relationships.

I reach out a hand and wipe a strand of hair from her face as those lips of hers spread into a sleepy smile and she snuggles a little deeper into the covers.

What in the hell am I letting myself fall into?

If she doesn’t scare the hell out of you, East, then she’s not worth the trouble.

And last night she scared the hell out of me. When I thought she’d moved on. When I thought she’d played me. When I thought I’d lost her.

“Morning.” Her eyes light up at the sound of my voice, and I’m a fucking goner.

Toast.

“Morning,” she murmurs, in a rasp of a voice that feels like fingernails scraping ever so gently over the underside of my balls. It makes me want. She makes me want, when I should be so damn exhausted after last night that even my dick should be fast asleep.

“Just because my cleats will hit the dirt again, doesn’t mean I’ll move on from the people in my life.” The words are a truth she needs to hear the morning after confessing her secrets, her fears, to help reassure her that I heard her and I’m still not going anywhere. I run my hand down the line of her torso, rest it on her hip, and squeeze it for emphasis. “You’re not one who can easily be forgotten, Scout Dalton.”

Her eyes cloud with emotion, but it’s her shaky inhale that catches my attention. “Uh-uh. I’m not going to let you do it, Scout. I see that look in your eye. After last night . . . you don’t get to spook anymore. I know why you’re scared. I get it. But you don’t get to shut down, you don’t get to shut me out. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that beautifully, scared mind of yours.”

“You can’t control our lives, Easton. I may not get the contract with the team. You could get traded. There are no guarantees.” Her voice is soft, the emotion I couldn’t read is obviously fear.

“You’re right, I can’t. But it’s the possibility that should keep you going, not the guarantees. And I can tell you this—you’re going to get the contract. I’ll do whatever it takes to get back on that field so Cory sees you got your job done, and I’ll put in every single good word I have for you to get the job.” She shakes her head, starts to refute, but I just lift my finger to her lips to quiet her down. “And as for being traded, that’s always been my biggest fear because of my mom. So, I hear your spooked-ness, Scout, but I’m matching your bet, so what else are you going to throw at me that I can debunk.”

Our eyes hold, and I’m shocked to shit when she reaches out, wraps her arms around me, and snuggles into me. The woman who keeps pushing me away has finally pulled me in. And fuck does it feel good.

The only thing that rivals the feeling is her body snuggled up against mine.

My dick stirs to life—how can it not—and every little move she makes, combined with the scent of her shampoo in my nose, makes me want to have her all over again.

“I need to get to work,” I groan, hating my own lips for even speaking it.

“I hear you have a mean, wretched trainer who likes to crack the whip.” Her lips move against my neck, their heat only making the urge to bury my dick into her tight, addictive pussy that much more enticing.

“You have no idea,” I murmur, and press a kiss to the crown of her head as my hands slide down to the curve of her ass, pulling her thigh up and over my hip to open her up for me. “She’s demanding.”

“And manipulative,” she chuckles, and then sighs as my fingers touch ever so softly over that perfect, pink flesh between her thighs.

“Mmmm.” Fuck. She’s already wet for me. I can feel it and I haven’t even slipped my fingers in yet.

“Or we could go bat another round downstairs.” She spreads her legs farther, granting me access as my fingers slide inside.

Her hands tense on my shoulders. Her teeth nip into my collarbone.

I chuckle at her comment. “It’s not the same. It will never be the same again,” I murmur as her breath hitches.

“What won’t?” I love how she’s trying to act unaffected, but when my fingertips hit that little rough patch inside of her slick, wet pussy and her nails dig in reflexively, I know I’ve got her.