Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
It was hard to come by someone who checked all those boxes.
But of course, Braden Fucking Lock had intrigued me from the first day I’d met him. Physically, I’d wanted him instantly. When I teased him and he got all flustered, I found myself falling for his curious charm. When he started flirting back, I found myself more desperate than I had been my entire life.
And now that I’d had him, I was just thirsty for more.
Sadly, more wouldn’t happen — it couldn’t. I knew it as well as he did. We’d gotten caught up in a moment and taken a risk that could have had us both in deep water. Fortunately, no one caught us, and we finally got to break that tension between us.
Except I was fairly certain it hadn’t done either of us any favors.
I’d told him it was no big deal, it could be our little secret, a one-and-done day.
But it had been like sneaking into a confectionery and only getting to take one little finger swipe of buttercream frosting. I wasn’t satiated because this man had made me come just by dry humping, for God’s sake.
What could he do when the clothes were out of the way?
How would those fingers that were wrapped around my throat feel curling inside me?
What would that magical tongue feel like between my thighs?
Said thighs clenched together at the thought as the glam squad finished my makeup. It was game day, a home game after two on the road, and the stadium was already buzzing with so much life I felt it humming through me.
I stared back at my reflection, framed by bright bulbs of white light.
And as excited as I was to dance, to cheer, to feed off the energy of that hungry crowd…
I knew I was most excited to see Braden.
Marcus flopped down in the chair next to me when the glam squad decided they were finished with me, a long sigh leaving his lips. He was typing away on his phone.
“You good?” I asked.
“On the field? Yes. In bed? Absolutely. In my heart?” He sighed again. “Not presently.”
I frowned, grabbing my friend’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “Wanna talk about it?”
Marcus bit his lip, looking around before he lowered his voice. “I met someone.”
“Do tell,” I encouraged, scooting closer. Marcus was pretty private about his love life, so if he was opening up to me, I was going to take every word he wanted to give.
“That’s the thing,” he said. “I… can’t really say more than that.”
“Why not?”
Marcus looked over my shoulder before whispering so low I barely heard him.
“He’s a player.”
I smirked. “Aren’t they all.”
“No, I mean, a player.” Marcus lifted his brows, waiting until I caught on.
Oh, shit.
My jaw dropped.
“Yeah,” Marcus said, leaning back with a sigh. “So… not sure what I think will come of this.”
“I can think of one thing,” I said. “Your spot on this team going up in flames.”
As I said the words, they burned my chest as much as I imagined they did his.
I was really the pot calling the kettle black here.
“We’ve been careful,” he said. “But… I don’t know. It’s getting harder to keep it all a secret.”
“What are you going to do?”
He shrugged, smacking his legs before he stood and offered his hand for me to do the same. “Dance with my girls and pretend like I don’t have a problem in the world.”
“Sounds logical to me,” I said, covering his hand with my own after he looped my arm through his. I kissed his cheek, lowering my voice. “I’m here for you, if you ever need to talk about it. Okay? You’re not alone.”
He patted my hand. “I know. Love you.”
“Love you.”
And then, it was showtime.
We took the field for warmups, stretching in our little area while I did my very best not to be too obvious in my search for Braden. I’d kept my word. I’d left him alone after that day in the gym, other than a smile or a wink from a distance. I hadn’t texted him — even though everything inside me wanted to. And I hadn’t asked to meet again, even though I was pretty sure I’d die if I didn’t have his hands on me more than just that one time.
It hadn’t even been a full two weeks and I was going through withdrawals.
What would it be like if I relapsed and had him again?
I shook off the thought, knowing it wasn’t an option, and focused on the game at hand. We were set to open it all before kickoff with a new dance number that we’d been working tirelessly all week.
And I had a star tumbling pass in it.
My heart skittered at the reminder, hands balmy when I grabbed my pompoms and jogged to join the rest of the team that was getting lined up and ready for our spot.