Page 44 of First Down Promise

“Here.” I hand her the filled tumbler, and she smiles.

“Does everything have the Stallions logo?” she asks, gesturing to the black and gold horse on the side of the cup.

I grin at her. “More or less.”

I bite my lip. Whenever I brought a girl back to my place, it was more straightforward. What do I do with Abby? Watch a movie or play a game first?

“Do you want to watch anything? Or I have a foosball table in the loft.”

She shakes her head, making her caramel waves catch the overhead kitchen light. Her cheeks, blushed with makeup, turn a deeper rose shade.

“I think I want to go to your room.”

A breath punches out of me. Oh, sweet Jesus. Getting into it already.

“If we go there, I’m going to do things to you,” I say with a laugh.

She taps her nails on the counter and takes a sip from the tumbler. “That’s okay.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

She follows me through the main living space to my primary suite, just off the main living room. My room has a private hallway with a single door to the bathroom and closet and an open arch to the bedroom space. I thought Abby might comment on the layout, but as I glance over my shoulder at her, her shoulders are stiff and her breaths deep. She follows me through the arch, and her eyes widen as she sees my king-sized bed for the first time.

“Only what you’re comfortable with,” I murmur, and she nods. I circle behind her and gently pull her jacket down her arms, revealing the strapless top underneath. I kiss her bare shoulder, tossing her jacket to the side onto the bench in front of my bed.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Will it hurt? I have the worst pain tolerance.”

“We’ll take it slow,” I say. Because I can’t guarantee it won’t.

I step around her and lean down to bring my lips to hers. She’s still tense, and this will never work if I can’t get her to relax. I rub her bare upper arms, feeling just how chilled her skin is. I should warm her up in bed with some cuddling first, under the covers. I haven’t seen her naked yet, and having a little privacy might help.

“How can I make you feel better?”

She sighs lightly. “I don’t know. I know I’m ready, and I really want to,” she answers.

“Just take a couple of deep breaths.”

I pull my long-sleeved shirt over my head, and Abby’s gasp startles me as she sees the bruises on my side.

“Was that from yesterday’s game?”

“Yep. Part of the job,” I answer.

“Ouch.” She winces as she grazes her fingertips over my purple and green flesh. I don’t wince though, because after a few years, bruises just seem to have lost their soreness.

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” I quietly say to stop her fixation.

My fingers drop down to my belt, and I gently pull it from the jeans’ belt loops. She quietly watches as I drop my jeans and kick them off. I usually went commando under denim, but thankfully, I hadn’t this evening. A grin appears on her lips, and she hooks the waistband of her skirt with her thumbs and slips it down her hips, where gravity pulls it the rest of the way to the floor. I want to remind her she’s seen me in my swim trunks, and I saw her in the little bikini not that long ago. But sex wasn’t on the agenda then.

“Come cuddle,” I say, nodding toward the bed.

“I came here for more than that,” she challenges, raising her eyebrows.

She might think that, but her body says otherwise. I yank off my socks and slip into my usual side of the bed. She approaches the other side and pauses, her attention pulled in a different direction.

“What is it?”

She lightly shakes her head. “Trying to get over myself.”