Dump Tackle My Heart (A Carolina Rugby Romance #2)

Prologue-Tank

Daniela McNally is everything I want in a woman.

Curvy. Delicious. Spunky. Bright.

And yeah, I’m a big fuckin’ bruiser, but I can be gentle for her.

I am gentle for her.

I’m not exactly a smart guy. But what I lack in brains, I make up for with my body.

Dani likes my body.

I know she does.

The way she melts under my touch, the way she gasps my name, the way she arches for more—hell yeah, Dani likes me and what I’m doing to her.

Her kisses? They’re warm and sweet. And so fucking earnest.

She tastes like bubble gum and those Tutti Frutti jellybeans I buy in bulk online.

On a scale from one to ten, this woman is a goddamn eleven.

She’s not some silicone supermodel or sports groupie. She’s real.

Big tits, soft belly, round hips, and thick thighs even my hands have to work to really grip.

She’s got big green eyes and dark curly hair. Right now, it’s spread across the pillow like a black cloud, and fuck me, she looks good.

Really fucking good.

I don’t do relationships—well, I never have. But Daniela makes me want to try.

She whimpers beneath me, her small hands clutching at my waist, pulling me closer, and I go willingly.

Anything for her. Everything for her.

I want her so badly. Even balls deep inside her, I want her.

The truth? She fucks like a fairy.

She’s so beautiful, I’m fucking spellbound.

This woman is pure magic.

Sensual, confident, brilliant—and totally out of my league.

But tonight, I finally have her right where I want her.

In this moment, she’s mine.

Every moan, every soft little whimper, every sassy quip she bites out between kisses—it’s all for me.

And I swear to God, I’ve never felt anything like it.

I’m head over heels, bruh.

“Tank! Oh, fuck, that feels so good,” she whimpers, and I grunt, driving into her with the same efficient accuracy I’m known for on the field.

“You take me so good, Sweetheart. That’s it. Let me in,” I growl, holding her by the neck as I slam my mouth to hers.

Every flex of my hips sends spirals of pleasure shooting through me. But I’m not coming without her. So I reach between us, find her slick little pearl and I slide my hands over it, using her slick to smooth the way.

“Fuck, your sweet cunt fits me like a glove, Sweetheart. You gonna come for me now, Dani? Be a good girl, eh? Come for me. Now,” I tell her, and yes, she flies apart.

Just like I wanted her to.

Just like I needed her to.

And I’m right there with her.

And it’s everything I dreamed.

This woman? She sucks the soul right from my body and into hers.

I’m gone for her, and I mean to tell her, but for now I content myself by tucking her soft, sweet body into mine and resting a bit.

Only when the magic of the night fades into morning?

She’s gone. Bolted.

Like her fucking heels were on fire.

She doesn’t answer my texts.

Doesn’t return my calls.

Doesn’t so much as look my way at the Rovers facility—unless it’s to roll her eyes and breeze past like I’m just some cleat-dragging idiot with more brawn than brains.

Which, to be fair, is the version of me most people know.

But not her.

At least, I thought not her.

Now my game’s shit.

Coach is on my ass.

My mind’s a fucking mess, and I’ve got no good excuse.

We’ve got a big match coming up, and I should be locked in—focused on my role on the team, my fucking duty to my mates—I definitely should not be thinking about the woman who won’t even speak to me.

But here I am.

Haunted by a night I can’t forget and a woman who clearly regrets it.

I fucked up somehow, and I need to make it right.

So when the PR team floats this idea about filming the Rovers’ “Kiwi Imports” doing a Thanksgiving promo in the goddamn snow—complete with roasting a turkey and tossing around a rugby ball in some Appalachian cabin wilderness retreat—I sign up without hesitation.

Because Daniela McNally is the one handling it.

Because this little content retreat means I’ll be stuck in the mountains with her.

Because maybe if I get her alone—away from the noise, the team, the walls she throws up—I can finally make her listen.

And if an unexpected avalanche just so happens to snow us in for a couple days?

Even better.

I’m done playing defense when it comes to her.

This time?

I’m going to tackle her heart—whether she’s ready or not.