and curves of me. His hand pushed up my shirt along my sides and then walked around to my back. His fingers pulled across my spine in scratches that weren’t too hard to hurt, but just aggressive enough to heighten the heat. I allowed him to move my head back with his so that he could take a succulent bite of my neck while his roaming hand traveled upwards to unclasp my bra. When he’d done so successfully, he pulled away from me and grabbed the base of my shirt, yanking it up and off before returning to pull my bra away, as well. He crouched enough to tuck his arms under my legs and lifted me from my feet. I locked my ankles behind him and returned to his lips while he led us through his home and into his bedroom.
I was dropped on the bed, and Zeke slithered over me. I wrapped my arms around his back to return the scratches he’d given me, and he growled against my lips at the feeling, exciting me tenfold. I’d been told before that I could be rough in bed. Maybe it was just my tendency to do so as an athlete, but I lived in constant fear of being too much for my lovers. Zeke was showing me in his own way that he was up to the task of whatever I threw at him, both on and off the field. Feeling like I could truly let go and just enjoy lovemaking was a brand new feeling.
Zeke wrapped his arms around me and rolled, bringing me to sit on top of him. I could feel his erection trying desperately to break free of his pants. I ran my hands down his stomach, my skin burning at the intense way he watched me like I was the only thing in the world.
When I got to the top of his pants, I looked up at him. “May I?”
He grinned and reached a hand up to run along my cheek. “You can do whatever you want now.”
My body buzzed. Whatever I wanted. I worked with the metal button on his jeans while his hand dropped to my breast to massage it. My cheeks were burning, and my mind went wild with the realization that I was sitting on top of a man I used to watch on TV—a man that I thought wanted to end my career. It was crazy how life interfered when we took too much control. Both Zeke and I tried desperately to direct our fates, and all we did was end up a totally different road than we were originally traveling, one that went in the same direction. It was exhilarating and terrifying. What did the future hold for us? Why did being near him feel like being near myself? Like a chunk of me had been ripped out and chucked into a field, and after years and years of searching, I’d finally found it?
“Are you trying to tease me?” Zeke’s gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
I snaked my hands into his jeans and took his smoldering length into my hand. His eyes stayed trained on me, though I could see the strain of pleasure threaten to take him away. I smiled and repositioned so that I could slide down. I moved the pieces of fabric away and, after taking a few tentative licks, pulled him inside my mouth. He let out a moan that wrapped around me like a chord of music, one I played over and over and over and never got sick of it. I worked with my tongue and hand to pull a fantastic melody of sounds from Zeke, loving when his hand traveled to the back of my head to push and guide me.
He continued to elongate in my mouth, and the space between my legs was growing ever-wetter with anticipation. It desperately wanted what my mouth was currently taking its fill of. I moved my hand lower to touch myself and bring it relief, but Zeke immediately reacted. He sat up, pulling me off of him in the action, and turned me on my back.
“No helping yourself today,” he demanded. “Not when I’m around to do it.”
I shuddered, trying to calculate exactly when his sexual magnitude had tripled. Was I doomed to forever feel the waves of excitement when he was around me now? Our drunken night had been an appetizer, at best, and this was a full five-course meal.