Page 56 of Your Play to Call
It’s the windows that cause me to stop.
“This is not your view,” I say, getting as close as what’s acceptable to the windows.
“This is my view.” He crosses his arms and takes it in with me.
It’s a sparkling New York City skyline. Feels like his apartment is wrapped in miles of it.
“This is beautiful.”
“I know something more beautiful.” He reaches for me, pulling me in for a kiss. “Thank you for coming to the game.” He wraps me in a hug.
“Stop it,” I blush at the cheesiness of the line. “Thanks for the invite. Also, you’re stuck with me for next week’s home game at least,” I joke.
“Happily stuck. Hopefully for much longer than that.” He laughs. It’s a tiny comment but it sticks in my brain. The part where it’s like I can’t think about this right now and I need to file it away for later.
“You were amazing today. I mean, you look fast on TV, but in person, it’s different.”
I swear his cheeks blush.
“Thank you. Today was good. Sometimes, it’s like that.”
Tripp leads me down a hallway, his hand on my lower back, showing me the guest bedroom and bathroom before we’re in the master suite.
“This is my room.”
I walk in and sit on the edge of his bed. I lean back a little, putting the weight in my arms behind me, before lying all the way back. I let my arms touch the softness of his duvet.
It’s only a second and Tripp is leaning over me. He straddles me and holds himself up on his forearms. His hair dips into his eyes. Instinctually, I brush it away. I already want to bring my hips to meet him.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice husky like the end of a breath.
“Don’t make me beg,” I say.
In a swift second, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one arm.
“Now I’m going to.” His mouth is on mine, urgent and hungry. I pick my head up as fast as I can, pushing the kiss further, exploring his tongue with mine. I reach as far as he’ll let me, and he pulls away each time I reach this imaginary line.
Painfully slow, he puts his mouth to my jaw, and then he’s biting my ear lobe. When he takes his tongue and draws it down my neck, I can’t help but let out a whimper. My hips are dying to move but Tripp holds me in place, his strength on the best kind of display.
His free hand lightly touches the top of my breasts. My nipples tingle and harden in anticipation of his hands. His mouth. His bite. I want all of it.
“Tripp,” I gasp and put my head to the side.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, moving his hips just enough for me to feel his dick through his pants. “If you’re good, I’ll let you have it.” When his lips pull into a sly smirk, I can’t help but respond with a sigh.
“Less clothes.”
“Promise to be good?” He grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it up away from my skin.
“I promise.” Before the word is out of my mouth, he’s got both hands on the side of my stomach, raking up my skin, while pushing my shirt over my breasts.
My hands reach for his shirt, and he’s back to pinning my arms above my head. He buries his head in between my breasts before using his free hand and putting a nipple in between his fingers. He rolls and squeezes, my hips follow.
“My god, Tripp.” The need for him intensifies with each held back touch. I throw my head side to side.
“Not yet, baby. Does this have any sort of sentimental value?” He touches the black lacy bra.
“No.” It comes out more like a breath than a response.