Page 56 of Playing to Win
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I whisper.
Her face flushes and her eyelids flutter. “Such a flatterer.”
“I’m serious, Red. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” I press her more firmly against the door, my fingers still around her neck, and fuck, I swear she goes limp. “You like this?”
She nods, her lips parting, her eyes fully closing.
Leaning in, I press my mouth to her ear, whispering, “Are you wet, Red?”
Her head barely moves in answer, a shuddery breath escaping her.
“Because of how I’m touching you?” I tighten my grip slightly, not wanting to hurt her but still testing her.
“Because of everything,” she admits, her eyes still closed.
I go silent, studying her face. The way her chest rises and falls, her nipples hard beneath the T-shirt. Pretty sure this girl’s got it bad for me.
Fairly certain I feel the same way about her.
SEVENTEEN
RUBY
He’s gothis hand around my throat and I should probably be terrified. He whispers in my ear and his voice is almost menacing, which is such a contradiction from how Ace is perceived by everyone else.
Including me.
He’s the easygoing guy. The friendly, flirty, hot football player.
But in this moment, there’s nothing easygoing about Ace.
I’m still surprised that I’m even here. I know how these guys operate. Football players. Athletes in general. Bringing a woman back to their apartment is usually a no-no because it could lead to bigger expectations. Like a woman thinking they could become something serious.
And none of them want serious. Especially Ace.
I don’t want serious either—not with Ace. I can’t be serious with this man, but the way he’s currently touching me, how he kissed me?
I want more. More ofhim.
Every bit of him I can get.
“Everything, huh?” His hand slips from my throat and I want to cry out at the loss. But he makes up for it by slowly sliding his hand down the front of my chest, catching my nipple between his fingers. He gives it a quick pinch, and even through the fabric of my T-shirt, it sends a stinging sensation that lands right between my thighs, pulsating. A delicious reminder that leaves me all fluttery and breathless.
“Uh huh.” My voice is shaky as his fingers toy with the hem of my T-shirt before he tunnels his hand beneath the fabric, his fingertips brushing the underside of my left breast.
“Like, this?” He cups my breast fully, his thumb drawing slow circles around my nipple, and I nod, letting a whimper escape.
The sound seems to encourage him because the next thing I know, the shirt is shoved up to my chin and he’s staring at my naked chest, a rough sound leaving him that makes my knees weak.
“Jesus, Red. You’re perfect.”
I’m about to protest, about to deny his compliment, but when he wraps his lips around my nipple and gives it a tug, my brain shuts off and I can’t form any words. A strangled sound leaves me instead, my hands coming around the back of his head, fingers sliding into his soft hair to hold him in place. He sucks and licks and pulls, his tongue working the hard bit of flesh, and I’m grateful I’m braced against the door or else I’d be on the floor. Too weak to stand.
Too overcome to think.
Oh wait. Pretty sure I’m already there.
He lavishes my other breast with the same focused attention and all I can do is take it, my fingers buried in his hair, clutching him to me. His hands are on my waist, his fingers splayed, like he wants to touch as much of my skin as he can possibly reach, and I realize I’m in big trouble.
