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Nine
Junior
Holy shit.
Being not interested in Eliza Pierce is a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be. Not quite as hard as my dick right now, though.
That dress. That body. Those eyes. There’s not a single part of her right now that I wouldn’t kill to touch or kiss or flat-out destroy.
“Hey— Junior?”
Coach shakes my shoulders again, snapping me out of the extreme sexual fantasy in my head starring his daughter.
I throw on a smile and wave, forcing myself to look away from that tight, black dress hugging every curve of her body.
I saw the way she looked at me. I saw that subtle twitch of her lips — like she’s starving for food and just saw a defenseless animal walk right into her trap. She wanted me to look at her, to notice her, to want her.
There’s a word for this and I’m more than happy to enlist.
War.
I field a few questions and take several more photos with the coach and the team, all the while glancing at her in the crowd. Her face lights up the more I make eye contact with her and I feel a little adrenaline rush with every bit of blush that races to her cheeks.
I must have struck a serious nerve this morning with what I said. Why else would she be going through the trouble to prove that I still want her in my bed? This is classic cat and mouse. She’s dangling herself in front of me again, toying with my hunter instincts just to whip it away at the last second and laugh at me.
She really needs to be taught a lesson.
The coach calls a few more players forward and I sneak off into the crowd, weaving through the cameras and microphones to get closer to Eliza. I can practically smell her as I draw near; every sense heightened to its full potential in preparation for battle.
I roll my fingers around her arm and lean in close to whisper in her ear. “Pool house. Now.”
She doesn’t even flinch as I slide away.
I slink to the back of the crowd, taking a smooth, quiet path across the lawn to the pool house on the other side.
The door is unlocked and I walk in to stand alone in the darkness, gripping the edge of a table behind me to hold myself steady. I wait for her, counting my breaths until I see her curvy shadow on the concrete outside.
Eliza closes the door softly behind her and she steps in, blinking as her eyes adjust to the darkness.
I prepare my tongue for a speech. I want to scold her. I want to tell her that I’m not the kind of man you mess with. I’m the kind that takes what he wants and she shouldn’t be teasing me like this.
“Ellie, I—”
Holy shit, she’s gorgeous…
My tongue turns to mush and I forget everything I planned to say to her as my eyes fall from her breasts to her toes.
“Oh, Junior.” She lets out a quick whistle. “I’m up here.”
I grab her arm and pull her closer to me. She inhales sharply, stunned by the sudden movement but she does nothing to distance herself from me. I cup her face in one hand, running my thumb over her bottom lip, and I feel her tremble at my touch. My tongue erupts, just begging to taste her again.
Our lips crush together and our tongues dance as I spin her around to set her onto the table behind me. She hikes up her tight skirt and wraps her legs around my waist, holding us together with her perfectly toned thighs.
“Admit it,” I groan, attacking her neck. “You wore that dress to get my attention.”
She chuckles. “I wore this dress because it makes me look good. Don’t be so self-centered.”
I bite her neck. She flinches at the sudden pain but melts even harder against me. Her skin tastes sugary sweet and my mouth waters, eager to know what she tastes like elsewhere.
