21. Nica
21
NICA
I woke with my head on a plushy pillow and my body wrapped in strong arms. Daylight tried to peek in around blackout curtains, but this room was perfect for sleeping.
Well. Sleeping and crazy hot sexytimes. Definitely those, too.
I smiled just as he stirred. A soft kiss landed on my shoulder. “You awake?” His voice was thick with sleep and absolutely delicious. I nodded.
Ryan’s hand splayed wide on my belly. My heart skipped as his fingers inched down. His cock stirred against my backside. “Open your legs, baby.”
Every time he called me baby, I wanted to cry or come. Or both. The idea that this man wanted me blew my mind.
But also, it didn’t.
On paper, I’d never assume he’d go for me. In theory, the only reason I’d go for him was as a fangirl crush. Theory be damned. The this between us was obvious, real, and hot. So while I’d never in my life imagined waking up in a house this fancy with a man this wonderful, it also made perfect sense. Him calling me baby made my emotions surge. But it also made perfect sense in its own weird way.
I opened my legs.
The next thing I knew, I was face down in the pillow and crying out in pleasure. Ryan fingered me from behind, kissing my neck and shoulder and whispering lovely, filthy words in my ear. “You’re soaking wet… I’m gonna fill this pussy with my cock tonight. Are you ready for that?... Good girl, Nica. Good fucking girl. Come for me, baby. Come all over my hand.”
He slapped his palm against my clit and pumped steadily, and yeah. I came all over his fucking hand.
When I quit twitching, he pulled away and kissed my cheek. “What time is it?” he asked with a yawn and then called the question to the home automation.
“The time is nine-fifteen.”
We both sat bolt upright.
“Shit,” I whispered.
“ Shit . I gotta hurry. Uh, go—breakfast. Food in the kitchen. I need to shower and eat, but you have whatever you want.”
Downstairs was frigid. I shivered in just his t-shirt as I scurried around, trying to find my clothes. They were littered from the foyer to the living room, so it was a bit of effort to get it all together. Even then, I realized my silly panties were still in the closet. “Screw it,” I whispered to myself as I hopped into my jeans.
I was breaking off a chunk of banana when Ryan skidded into the kitchen. Bless him, his hair was a wild mop. He ruffled it and shook his head. “Don’t start. I had no time.”
I grinned. “I wasn’t going to say a word.”
He pulled a chicken breast out of the fridge and tore pieces off. “No time for coffee. Green juice…”
I gaped, horrified, while he mixed a green powder in a bottle of water. “Boiled chicken for breakfast?”
He nodded as he swilled the juice. “Protein, baby. Pass me a banana. I’ll eat that on the way.”
“Wow. Food is like science for you, huh?”
Nod. “Optimal performance. Thirty grams of protein plus a carb. I’ll do it all again later. Hopefully, that meal will be a bit more tasty.”
“Is this how it is with you? No fun foods?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “No. I love good food, as I believe I demonstrated at the restaurant. We’ll have waffles and coffee tomorrow morning, I promise. But game day is different.” He glanced at the clock and winced. “I’ve got to go now . You can stay as long as you like. Just use code three-four-three-four on the pin pad to lock when you leave.”
But I trashed the banana peel and slid off the stool. “Nope, I’m out.”
We power-walked to our cars. Just before I slid in, Ryan pulled me into a kiss. Green eyes gazed down at me, full of the sweetest, sexiest light I’d ever seen. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll see you first.” I booped his nose, and he released me.
The drive to Hartford was definitely not the most focused I’d ever been on the road. Traffic was still slow, so I inched along, replaying everything from last night.
A phone call crashed me out of my reverie. I saw the name and sighed. “Yeah?”
“How long did you think you could avoid me?”
“As long as I needed,” I snapped. “I’ve been busy , Bruce. Working. What is it?”
“Are you fucking him?”
“Absolutely none of your business. That silly photo came out over a week ago. And I deleted the Paris profile. All old news.”
“Are you fucking him, Nica?”
My jaw slid side to side. “I believe I just answered that question, Bruce.”
He growled. “That little photo cost us thousands of dollars. I think I get to know when my client is sabotaging our business.”
“Well, consider it sabotaged. Matter of fact, let me buy you out. The Molloy profile is generating about three thousand a month currently. That’s thirty-six in a year. Half of which is eighteen. If I can pay you twenty grand before the end of the month, how about we dissolve the partnership and finally move on?”
Bruce was silent for a long moment. Finally, he sighed. “I should protect my assets, and you’ve become a liability. Fine. Twenty, and we’ll call it dissolved. I’ll write up an agreement.”
My heart beat in my ears. What the hell have you just done? How are you going to get that money? “Fine. I’ll be in touch.”
I disconnected the call and swallowed hard. You’ve got a little stashed in savings. That’s a start. If you don’t spend a single dime and can push for more sponsorships…
You’re going to have to wait tables. Or ask Vinny for a loan.
My chin wobbled. The lovely morning was long gone, and I wanted to go running back to it faster than Ethan Rivera could sprint down the ice.
Suck it up, babe. You get your little fairytale tonight. Ryan’s girl at the Atlanta game. Your very own version of Cinderella. Then, you’ll figure the rest out. You always do.
Tomorrow, you’ll sell everything you own. But first, you’ve got to buy a Molloy jersey.