The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel - Vi Keeland Page 0,46

I stopped in the bathroom near the gate and plugged in my phone while I used the toilet and fixed myself up. The phone illuminated again after a few minutes, enough for me to shoot off a text to Brody.

Delilah: Just landed. Phone died before we took off. Are you already at my place?

Brody: Just pulled into the parking garage.

Delilah: Sorry. Will probably take me an hour to get home. Give it two minutes, then ring 3E. Patrick has a key to my place. I’ll text him now and tell him to give it to you.

Brody: Why does Patrick have a key to your place?

I wanted to get the hell out of the bathroom. We could discuss the logistics later.

Delilah: To unlock the door. Why does anyone have a key?

I smirked, knowing he wouldn’t love that answer, and then shot off a quick text to Patrick before I unplugged and headed home.

***

Traffic was surprisingly light, and I made it home in less than half the time it ordinarily took. It was odd that I was returning after a football trip, and Brody was at my house waiting for me. The roles were typically reversed.

“Hello?” The kitchen light was on, but everything else was dark. Looking down the hallway to the bedroom, I saw the bathroom was lit.

“I’m in here.”

The door was open. I stopped in my tracks as I entered. The visual was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.

“What are you doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like I’m doing.”

“You’re . . . you’re taking a bubble bath?” Brody was sunk down into my tub, his head lolling back against the tile wall. The full length of his tall body didn’t quite fit—his legs were sticking out and over the rim. Bubbles overflowed from the tub and onto the floor. The entire room smelled like scented bath soap.

“No tub at my place. I like to soak. Feels good on my muscles.”

“And you usually soak in bubble bath?” I could barely contain my laughter.

“I don’t have any of this crap. The directions on the pink shit . . . ” He pointed to a large plastic bottle that had been full when I left but was now half empty. “ . . . said it was good for soothing muscles.”

“You only need to use a capful.”

“I was really sore.”

“You look . . . ridiculous in there.”

“What? You don’t find the bubbles sexy? If I saw you in a bathtub, I’d think it was fucking hot.”

“It’s just sort of . . . girly.”

He reached under the bubbles and took himself into his hand, the head of his semi-erect penis peeking out from the water. “Does this look girly to you?” He stroked himself leisurely.

I stopped seeing the bubbles. All I could see was his strong hand around his thick shaft, slowly rubbing up and down. The vision was positively erotic. I’d never watched a man masturbate up close before. My eyes were glued as he stroked.

“Do you pleasure yourself in here sometimes, Delilah?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“I want to watch you. See you slip your fingers inside that wet pussy and make yourself come—my cock is getting hard just thinking about it.” The speed of his pumps accelerated. I tore my eyes away and gazed up at his face; his jaw was set and tense. When our eyes caught, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down on his stubbled throat while his pale green eyes darkened with lust. All it took was his look—I didn’t need to be touched—and my body was humming with need. When he spoke again, his voice was low, but gruff and commanding. “Take your shirt off.”

I followed every instruction he gave me, my clothes disappearing slowly, one piece at a time, until I was standing before him wearing only my underwear and shoes.

He stared at my black lace thong. “Take it off. I want to see every inch of you.” His hand fisted around his cock as he stroked faster. “Are you wet for me already, Delilah?”

Hooking my fingers into the sides of the lace, I shimmied my panties down my legs. My answer was a whisper in the quiet room. “I am.” I stepped out of the pooled black lace and reached down to remove the last of my clothing—black high heels with a strap that wrapped around my ankle.

“Leave them on.” I stopped unfastening and looked up at him. “You need the height.”

He stood from the tub. His body was gorgeous, a mass of