This is some of your best work.”
Elle.
Jesus fuck.
I tried to swing around the post to look at her, but the tape bound me in place. That was probably for the best. Just the sweet sound of her voice was enough to twist my boxers.
Hers was a song I couldn’t get out of my head. Her every word, groan, moan, and whimper had cluttered my thoughts and invaded my dreams.
The guys posed around me. Elle’s camera flashed.
It was a damn crime she held the camera instead of posing for it. Someone that beautiful deserved to be immortalized.
In fact, that was the line that won her over during the scouting combine—the fitness test used to grade the incoming draft choices. Three hundred men in peak physical condition competed for the league scouts as well as the beautiful photographer darting between events with a smirk and a flash.
But I had won. She came back with me from the bar. And she’d stayed in my bed, sunup to sun-down, for three solid days.
The only thing that might have made it better? Remembering most of it.
“Well, if it isn’t Lachlan Reed.” Elle circled the goal posts to size me up. Like she hadn’t already licked every inch of me.
And more.
I figured after the games we’d played, words we’d said, and crimes we might have committed according to statues set by twelve states, she’d have begged for a second chance or sent me some dirty texts.
Returned my fucking phone calls.
Not this girl.
Hell, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She’d teased me, pleased me, kissed and licked and touched and fucked me, drained me, got me hard again, and then raced to see if she could kill me from pleasure, exhaustion, or dehydration, whichever came first.
“Don’t move,” she ordered. “Let me get a good picture.”
Oh, she was a tease. A bronzed goddess in black leggings and a loose fitting white, Rivets tunic that just covered her ass. The shirt hung low off of one shoulder, revealing black skin with a honey glow. Waves of ebony hair bounced over her shoulders, but she’d dyed streaks of bright red into the curls. Playful, not punk. Something sexy and bright.
She stalked me on legs so perfect I’d offer to wear her as a fanny pack…as long as it didn’t ruin my sprint speed down the field. I didn’t know if it was her or the tape that didn’t let me breathe, but at least I’d die a happy man after earning her smile.
“Better get my good side,” I said.
“Believe me…” She raised the camera, snapping a picture of my ass. “I am.”
Naughty girl.
Jack angled his finger and thumb as if framing my misery for his own photo. “I don’t know. This looks a little sloppy to me. We might have to do it again tomorrow. Practice makes perfect.”
Fuck me.
Elle came to my rescue. “No, this is candid. If it gets too neat, it’ll look staged.”
“God forbid,” I said.
She laughed, a fairy-tale twinkle of brightness. “Oh, hush now. You’re getting off easy, rookie.”
“I’d get off real easy with you, Elle.”
The guys didn’t laugh.
Mistake.
The offensive line circled Elle, more protective of her than their damn quarterback. I twisted, watching as she leaned against Caleb and wagged a disapproving finger at me.
Orlando crossed his arms. “Na-uh, rookie. This here is our girl.”
Caleb shook his head. “You’re gonna be real respectful-like to her.”
Point taken. I caught her glance—those big, almond eyes stared with glee. Her eyebrow arched, baiting me to protest.
“There’s no one more respectful to a lady than me,” I said. “If my middle name weren’t Generous, it might have been Chivalry.”
Caleb laughed, though it ended short and punctuated with a scowl. “Don’t mess with Elle.”
“Can I mess around with her?”
Elle giggled, but this time it was Jack suiting up in the shining armor. He motioned for the rest of the Gatorade to dunk over my head.
“You behave, rookie,” he said. “Elle is a nice girl. Too good for the likes of you. Keep your hands to yourself.”
Elle snapped another picture with a wicked grin. “Oh, I don’t know. He doesn’t look so tough. I bet I could take him.”
Again and again, if a benevolent god existed.
“Just give me the chance, Red,” I said.
Jack snickered. “Say the word, Elle, and we’ll take hot-shot here to the freezer.”
She considered it, tapping her chin with a manicured fingernail tipped in the same gold as our team’s colors. “I think he’s good where he is. Hit the showers, boys. I’ll take it from here.”
Orlando patted