Tumbling Into You – By Gwen Galloway #6
“Hey, I’ve got some networking to do. You’re welcome to tag along, or you can explore the party solo,” Darcy suggested. “Or . . . go find Sterling for some fun.” She hip-checked me playfully. “The way he stared at you? Damn, girl. That man wants to eat you for dessert.”
“What? No way. He seemed annoyed.” Darcy simply shook her head. She’s always saying I misinterpret guys, and given my history, she’s probably right. “I’ll make a round, maybe find the bathroom, and then catch up with you.”
“Good luck.” Darcy gave me a big hug, punctuated with a giggle.
As Darcy headed toward the center of the room, I took a couple of sips of my bourbon, gathering some liquid courage to mingle and meet new people.
After a few brief interactions—mostly surface-level chats about the fantastic LA weather or tips for the fastest way to drive from Santa Monica to Burbank—I scanned the room for a possible bathroom.
At the back of the room, I could see an entrance to a hallway that looked promising.
Navigating the outskirts of the crowd, I eventually reached a softly lit hallway. Halfway down, I noticed seven or so people lined up outside a closed door—likely the bathroom. As I approached the end of the line, I spotted a staircase at the far end of the hallway, leading up to the second floor.
Dreading more awkward small talk in the bathroom line, I couldn’t resist the urge to explore.
Disregarding the unspoken rule about not snooping at parties, I strolled nonchalantly past the line, ascending the stairs as though I had permission.
If anyone caught me, I’d say I was just searching for an unoccupied bathroom.
At the top of the stairs, I was greeted by another stunning view of LA.
Looking out at the Hollywood lights below, my quiet moment was interrupted by the sound of a toilet flushing in the dark hallway to my left.
Following the noise, I peeked through an open door to my right, discovering a beautiful bedroom, lit only by moonlight.
A few steps farther, I heard a sink turn on briefly, then off. Stopping outside what I assumed was the bathroom, I was startled when the door opened, revealing an equally shocked Sterling as he flicked off the light.
Taking a deliberate step toward me, like a predator closing in on its prey, he demanded, “What the hell?”
STERLING
“Did you follow me up here?” I asked Winnie, the words rolling slowly off my tongue. It was supposed to sound accusatory, but somehow, I couldn’t quite tamp down the urge to flirt. Even in the dark hallway, the disbelief on her face was clear, highlighted by the moon’s glow through the windows.
“Wait, what? No,” she replied, stepping back abruptly. Her flustered response oddly mirrored the strange, unsettled feeling in my stomach. Her familiar fragrance of vanilla and lavender enveloped me, briefly calming my doubts like a cozy cashmere blanket.
And yet, like muscle memory, my mistrust flared, fueling me to press on. “Did you Google me and find out I play professional soccer?” I didn’t need to see her shocked expression to know that I was being a dick.
“Are you serious?” she retorted, charging forward into my space.
“You think I have nothing better to do than look up some pompous jerk?” Her anger should have pushed me away, but instead, the intensity between us pulled me in like a magnet.
“I found out from my best friend, Darcy, when we arrived twenty minutes ago. She was stunned that I’d never heard of you. ”
“Really?” I realized my response was absurd, but she rattled me in a way no other woman ever had.
“I’ve been too busy flying under the radar to notice your sorry ass.” She huffed, momentarily distracted as her gaze swept over me, hesitating briefly at my crotch before darting back to my face. My dick jumped at the attention.
“Under the radar?” I inquired, attempting to concentrate on her words instead of how downright irresistible she was when she got fired up.
“Yes, exactly. I moved to LA last week for a fresh start. I wanted to be in a place where nobody knows I’m the head coach’s daughter.”
My expression must have shown my need for clarification because she quickly added, “of the Washington Revolution.”
“The NHL team?”
“Correct.” Folding her arms over her chest, she glared at me as if gleefully claiming victory.
My thoughts whirled for a second, then I blurted, “Then you understand the pitfalls of being a pro athlete.”
“Why do you think I needed to leave DC? My ex-boyfriend was the quintessential fame-thirsty puck bro. I overheard him telling his friend that dating me was his season ticket to the hockey elite. At least, he also mentioned I was fantastic in bed.” She let out a small, nervous laugh, apparently embarrassed by her confession.
Shaking my head, I quietly cursed, fuck me. “So, are you single now?”
“That’s what you got from all that?” she asked.
She’d barely finished her sentence when I closed the distance between us, crushing my mouth to her shapely, plump lips.
I’d been dying to kiss her since the moment I saw her at Runyon Canyon.
Fuck, but her lips were incredibly warm and soft—she tasted like a delicious combination of bourbon and cinnamon.
Threading my fingers into her hair, my palms skimmed her pink cheeks, coming to rest against the heated skin of her ears.
When I gently pulled her hair, the tension in her shoulders eased, and she raised her hands to grasp my forearms. A soft whimper resonated in her throat as she tightened her hold, drawing her body closer to mine.
The sound she made was sweeter than a siren’s call, pulling me inescapably under her spell.
With a soft groan, my tongue glided along the seam of her lips, seeking permission to deepen the kiss.
Her breath hitched in response, instinctively parting her lips for me.
Adjusting her head slightly for better access, I eagerly delved into her mouth.
The instant my tongue brushed against hers, a molten surge of desire coursed through my veins, much like the intoxicating first sip of a top-shelf whiskey.
Her tongue hesitated for a mere second before it urgently tangled with mine, quickly syncing with my heated rhythm.
However, when her hands abruptly let go of my arms and slapped against my chest, I thought I might have stepped over the line.
I fully expected her to push me away, to call me a presumptuous asshole.
Instead, she curled her fingers into my white button-down linen shirt, tugging me flush against her, where I could easily imagine losing myself forever.
“God, Sterling. Please . . .” she said against my lips, her voice thick with desire.
The raspy way she pleaded my name sent a jolt of electricity straight to my cock.
Trailing one hand down her back, I cupped her perfectly rounded ass, grinding my hips against hers, making sure she knew how much I wanted her.
I chuckled darkly. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me,” she begged. “I . . . I . . . need more.”
“As you wish,” I promised, spinning her back against the wall, wedging my thigh between her legs.
Reaching down, I grabbed the hem of her dress, dragging the fabric up her legs, desperate to expose more skin to my touch.
When my knuckles grazed the satiny surface of her panties, I eased my hand open, dragging two fingers across the damp fabric covering her heated center.
“Jesus, Winnie. You’re soaking wet for me,” I said, followed by a low, husky growl. She rolled her hips, increasing the friction between my fingers, her panties, and her aching core.
“I’ve got you, darling,” I whispered against her lips, dragging my fingers under the elastic of her panties. Taking a moment to let her set the rhythm, her breathy "yes" was all the encouragement I needed to slide two fingers into her wetness.
"Holy fuck, Sterling.” She moaned deeply as the walls of her pussy squeezed my fingers like a vise. She raised her hands to grasp my shoulders, hoisting herself up as she spread her legs wider, offering my hand more space to maneuver.
“God, you’re so sexy,” I groaned as my fingers began thrusting rapidly in and out of her snug, velvety core. “I can’t wait to fucking taste you.”
Suddenly, remembering where we were, I slowed the movement of my fingers, scanning the hallway for people before returning my gaze to Winnie. “We shouldn’t do this here.” Winnie gasped, realization flashing across her face as she whipped her head side to side.
“Tell me you want this,” I whispered urgently. Winnie nodded while panting heavily in my arms.
“I need your words, darling,” I urged, requiring her unequivocal consent.
“Yes. I’ll kill you if you stop now.” The mock-serious look she flashed me made me chuckle, sending her into breathy giggles.
Pulling my fingers reluctantly from her body, I raised my hand slowly to my mouth, enjoying her intense focus as she tracked the movement.
Gliding my fingers along my lower lip, Winnie’s gaze turned ravenous as my tongue darted out, savoring the flavor of her essence.
Leaning forward, I placed a chaste kiss on her lips before sucking my fingers clean.
“Damn. I’m going to need more of that later.
” I smirked, reaching down to grab the back of her thighs, hiking her long legs up around my waist. Heading back toward the stairs, I pushed through an open door on our left, pulling us into a mostly dark bedroom, slamming the door shut with my foot and locking it.
Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in an ethereal glow. A massive four-poster bed dominated the space, draped in crisp white linens that looked impossibly soft.
Rushing across the room, I gently tossed Winnie onto the bed, drawing another delightful giggle from that beautiful mouth of hers. Her bright laughter had become my second favorite sound—behind the spellbinding way she moaned my name.