Chapter Thirty-Six
Emily
“So, are you going to explain to me why I wasn’t allowed to shower after the game?” Braden asked when we made it back to his house the following Sunday night. “The guys were all very displeased with my stinky ass. Media didn’t seem too thrilled either.”
I gripped him by the hand and walked backward toward his bedroom with the biggest smile on my face. “It’s on the list.”
Braden wrinkled his nose. “You got a thing for body odor? Didn’t see this kink coming.”
“I’ve got a thing for you in this filthy jersey,” I said, running my hands over the grass stains before I slid my nails into his still-damp hair. “Been wanting to peel it off you since the first time I watched you play.”
He arched a brow, his face slick with grime and dried sweat.
“Well, you’ll get your wish. There is much peeling involved to get this thing off me, especially with these pads.
Which usually do not leave the stadium, by the way.
The equipment staff was very confused by me insisting on taking everything with me. ”
“How’d you get them to say yes?”
“Told them it was a playoff suspicion thing, that it worked for me in college.” Braden shrugged. “It worked for tonight, but don’t count on it again.”
“One time is all I need.”
My mouth was on his then, inhaling the moan my touch elicited as I pulled at the hem of his jersey until it untucked from his pants. I slid my hands under it then, feeling the hard ridges of his abdomen and tracing the little dips that pointed in a line to the promised land.
“How do you stand me when I smell like this?” he teased against my mouth.
“It’s like pheromones to me.”
He chuckled, sweeping me up into his arms and toward his bathroom. “You’re not messing up my bed with your stink fetish. We’re getting straight into the shower.”
“You just want to soap up my tits again.”
“For the rest of my life, if I’m being honest.”
All the teasing left me, and I pressed a hand to his chest when we pushed through the bathroom door. He paused at my expression.
“Um… I just mean—”
“Don’t take it back,” I whispered. “If you meant it, don’t take it back.”
Braden swallowed, his golden eyes searching mine. “I meant it. Does that freak you out?”
I was already shaking my head, and when he gently dropped my feet to the floor, I tore at his jersey with more urgency. “No. It makes me more feral than this jersey.”
I pushed at it, trying to get it up and over his gargantuan body, but it was impossible with the pads in place. Braden watched me with amusement as I grunted and pulled, huffed and pushed, trying and failing to do much else than stretch out the fabric.
“Help me,” I pouted after a moment, and Braden rewarded me with a deep laugh and a kiss before he answered my request.
I had to admit, it was even more delightful watching him strip than it was for me to do the work.
I savored every moment, every item of clothing and piece of equipment being shed. It took longer than I thought it would, and when he was done, Braden was panting a bit. He set everything outside in the hallway before returning to me, his cock hard, body still grimy from the game.
“Yeah,” I breathed, reaching for him. “This definitely does it for me.”
Braden smirked against my lips, kissing me hard before he smacked my ass and leaned around me to start the shower. He grabbed my shower cap next, helping me tuck my hair into it, and then he was pulling me inside.
We laughed and played as the water ran over our bodies, Braden soaping me up and groaning at the feel of my slick body as I ground against him and teased him to his limit.
He especially lost it when I slid his cock between the swells of my ass, gliding it up and down with my back arched and eyes cast back at him.
That had him shutting off the water in an instant, and he didn’t even wrap either of us in a towel before he was throwing me into his bed. He covered me as soon as my back hit the sheets, and I reveled in his predatory growl when he slid between my thighs.
He entered me in one swift thrust, all the way to the hilt, stealing my breath and any notion I had that we weren’t end game.
“I do want to check another item off the list tonight,” I whispered, fingers running through his hair as I forced him to look at me.
“Say the word.”
I smiled, eyes watching his. “Make love to me.”
“Baby,” he said, shaking his head as his thumb moved to my chin, fingers curling around my neck. “We checked that off the list long ago.”
And then he kissed me, his hips withdrawing before thrusting in again, and I felt him fill me like he’d always been the missing piece.
“I love you, Em,” he murmured, withdrawing and sliding in again with intent.
“I love you,” I echoed.
He sealed that promise with every movement of his body — every flex, every moan, every tender kiss against my flesh. And even though the playoffs were still weeks away, I couldn’t help feeling like the real game was finally over.
And we were the biggest winners of all.