Page 131 of Playing to Win
My orgasm slams into me and I can’t respond. I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. All I can do is cling to him as he continues to move inside my body, my inner walls strangling his cock, squeezing his own orgasm right out of him. He’s panting against my neck, groaning as the shudders rock his big body and when it’s over, we lie like that, wound together.
“Goddamn,” is the first thing he finally says, which makes me giggle. He kisses my shoulder, his lips lingering. “That was…”
“Amazing?” I supply for him.
He pulls away slightly so he can stare down into my eyes. I greedily stare back, marveling that this man is mine. That he loves me. I remember when I met him almost a year ago, and how cocky he was. How I didn’t like him that much.
Oh, that’s such a lie. I was wildly attracted to him from the start and pissed at myself for being just like my mother. My sister. Falling for a football player.
Now I can’t imagine my life without him.
“Amazing,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss me. “I love you, Ruby.”
“I love you too, Ace.”
“Want to do it again?”
“You know it,” I readily agree, grateful the man works out all the time and is in his physical prime.
His stamina in bed is one of my favorite things about him.
Oh, that and his heart.
FORTY-ONE
RUBY
I enterthe social media headquarters Monday afternoon to find Marilee waiting inside, Gwen and Eric nowhere to be found.
“Hello, Ruby.” She rises to her feet, her expression serious.
I stop in the open doorway, my fingers clutched tight around my backpack strap. “Uh, hi.”
“Do you have a moment so we can talk?”
“Sure.” My stomach churns and I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry. “Is everything okay?”
Marilee doesn’t respond to my question. “Let’s go chat in Jim Williamson’s office, all right?”
My advisor. I haven’t seen that guy in weeks. Months even.
This is…this is serious. Shit.
Did someone find out about me and Ace?
God, I think I might…cry.
Or puke.
Take your pick.
I follow Marilee to Williamson’s office where he’s waiting, his expression grim as I settle into a chair across from his desk, Marilee to my right. I remember how jovial he was when I first met him. How enthusiastic he was to have me be a part of the athletic department.
Now he looks like he’s just arrived at my funeral.
“We’ll just cut to the chase,” Jim says, leaning forward and resting his forearms on top of his desk. “It’s been brought to our attention that you’re seeing Ace Townsend.”
I blink at him, the denial on the tip of my tongue. Instead, my shoulders sag and I lean back in my chair. “It’s true.”
