Chapter 20
brYCE
T he Grizzlies ended up winning the game, and Miles had two deflections and a pick-six that he ran back for thirty yards. I guess sleep isn’t necessary for him to play well. Maybe sex is.
When I enter my apartment, I slip off my shoes and throw off my coat. Now that the weather is worse, and we’ve had a snowstorm, I have to go shopping for an actual winter coat. The wind is unbelievable here.
Booting up my laptop, I grab my open bottle of white wine and a glass from the dishwasher and sit on my couch to work on my article.
How do I say all the great things Miles did?
Will someone see through me? When I showed up at the game, well after they’d arrived for warm-ups, I swear Cooper looked at me funny, but I’m almost certain I can trust Miles.
It’s the “almost” part that gives me hives.
Everyone who reads my article will probably have seen the game. He’d get MVP if they passed it out.
My fingers are on my keyboard, ready to dig in, when a buzz from downstairs sounds out of my intercom.
I bring my wine with me and press the button. “Hello?”
“Pizza man,” a man clearly disguising his voice says .
“I didn’t order pizza, wrong place.”
“Seriously?” Miles asks.
I laugh. “What’s on this pizza?”
“Spinach and garlic. Stuffed.”
“Doesn’t sound like clean eating to me.”
“I made an exception in the interest of spending time with you.”
I smile. “My finger is hovering over the button… did you bring any sides?”
“It comes with at least one orgasm. If you’re good and eat all your pizza, maybe two.”
I press the button before I spit out my wine. I hear his chuckle through the speaker until the door shuts behind him.
Opening my apartment door, I lean on my open doorframe and wait for him. Of course, Miles doesn’t complain like Cooper as he rounds the last set of stairs, holding a pizza box. The guy isn’t even breathless.
“Good surprise?” he asks.
“I do have an article to write about a certain someone.” I sip my wine, and he doesn’t stop walking toward me until he’s right in front of me. Holding the pizza box, he takes my wine and sips from the glass then gives it back to me.
“I’d prefer something a little tastier,” he says.
“Well, I don’t have a lot. Tap water?”
He bends down and kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth for the briefest second before he pulls away. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Just my mouth?” I give him a sassy smile.
He walks into my apartment, and I shut the door behind him. “Among other parts of you.” Glancing over his shoulder into the kitchen, he places the box on the stove and opens it.
“I’m offended you’re starting with the pizza.” I join him in the kitchen. Standing next to him without heels, I feel like a child. He’s so much larger than me. “But that pizza looks so good, I’ll let you stay. ”
He bends down and takes my lips again. “I was hoping the pizza would sway you.”
I wind my arm around his neck and hold his head to mine to continue our kiss. “I would have let you stay without the pizza.”
He opens all my cabinets, apparently looking for plates, and I love that he’s making himself at home, though I’d never admit that to him.
“How did you know where I live?” I ask, propping myself on the counter, watching him move around my space. The giddiness welling up inside me is not a good sign.
“I have my ways.”
He dishes out the pizza and opens up drawers until he finds the silverware. Coming over to my side, he slides himself between my legs and places one plate next to me and cuts a piece off his slice of deep dish.
“Do I not get pizza?”
He holds the piece of pizza in front of my mouth. “You’re first.”
I open, and he inserts the fork into my mouth.
My lips slide the pizza off the tines while I meet his gaze.
“You’re teasing me now.” I chew and swallow.
“It’s so good,” I say in a half moan, then grab the fork and cut off a piece of pizza before stabbing it with the fork and holding it in front of his mouth. “Your turn.”
He opens his mouth and takes the piece. As I slide the fork out of his mouth, I study him.
“You’re right. That’s really good. I didn’t think I’d like the deep dish, but it’s growing on me.”
Abandoning the pizza, he wraps his arm around my body, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He picks me up off the counter, walks over to the couch, and places me in front of my computer.
“Now you work,” he says and disappears back into the kitchen .
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to eat, and then I’m going to read.”
I glance at the backpack he must have dropped on the floor when he came in. “How long are you staying?”
He chuckles on his way back into the room, holding two plates of pizza.
“Already trying to get rid of me, huh? Don’t worry, I just brought a change of clothes, so if I run into Damon when I go home, I can say I’ve already been out in the morning.
” He hands me a plate and silverware, and I put it next to my computer.
I should probably be annoyed that he assumes he’ll be spending the night, but I can’t find it in me to say anything since I find myself wanting him to stay.
Grabbing his backpack, he goes to my chair, sprawling his legs out so they hang off the edge of my coffee table. He eats pizza and reads while I try to focus on my article. But it’s hard when there’s a hunky, intellectual football player I want to fuck only a few feet away.
“Why’d you come if you knew I had to work?” I ask.
He looks over the edge of his book. “Because there’s time for fun after work.”
Ever since last night, I can’t fight my smiles around him. And the more I smile, the more my resolve not to get emotionally involved dies.
We sit in silence for half an hour, and I get one sentence written.
He doesn’t purposely tempt me, but knowing he’s here and seeing him in my peripheral vision is enough for me to lose all concentration.
I finally shut my computer, and he looks at me.
I’m not sure what look I give him, but he tosses the book on the table and comes over to me.
In seconds, his hands are on either side of my face and his lips are on mine.
“You’re not done, are you?” he says after he’s already ignited the fire in my veins.
“No.” His hands fall from my face, and he shifts a few feet away on the couch. “I can’t concentrate. I just want you so much.”
His nostrils flare. “Don’t say things like that.”
I crawl across the couch and place my hand on his shirt. It’s threadbare, so I feel his hard nipple underneath. Nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck, I run my nose up and down, inhaling his scent. “We’ll just fool around a little, and then I’ll write the article.”
He doesn’t fight me, so I swing my leg over his lap. His gaze slowly moves over my body, and I push out my tits.
“You’re impossible to resist.”
I grind down on the bulge in his pants. “I can tell.”
His hands land on my hips to keep me from moving, but I continue, and he doesn’t stop me.
“I know you want to play,” I say, my fingers crawling up his chest.
“When you’re done. You’ll hate me if you’re late sending in your article.”
I love that he’s concerned, but I don’t care in this moment. I just want to feel him inside me. The fullness, the stretching, him sliding through my wetness and into my body.
My hands fall between us, and my fingers slide under the elastic waistband of his track pants. “He wants to come out. I know he does.”
“Are you talking about my dick like he’s a person?”
I bite my lip and nod.
His head rocks back in laughter. “Shit, Bryce.”
He raises his hips, and I slide back on his legs, pulling the track pants down to rest under his balls.
He takes a deep inhale, then his stomach sinks in.
I can’t help but love the control I have right now.
His reaction to my actions is so hot. It gets me off as much as when he’s trying to control me.
Using his shoulders for balance, I stand up on the couch, my feet on either side of his thighs, my pussy even with his face. “Take off my pants. ”
I stare down at him, and he watches me intently as his hands lift, and he unbuttons my pants and slides down the zipper.
He tugs them down, and I help him shimmy them over my ass.
I lift one leg at a time until I’m standing in front of him, my sheer purple underwear dead center in front of his face.
His hands grip my ass and pull me toward him. I allow him a deep inhale and a sweet kiss against the lace before I step back. I straddle his lap once more and he groans, feeling the soaked fabric along his hard dick.
“Why don’t you slide them over?” I say.
“First things first.” He unbuttons my blouse and spreads it open, sliding his hands so it falls off my shoulders. “Matching set.”
I nod, biting my lower lip.
He reaches back and unclips my bra, the straps falling down my arms until he glides them the rest of the way.
Sitting on him with nothing but sheer fabric between us, my bare breasts available for his feasting, I no longer care about my article.
I want this. I am laser-focused on having my way with this hot-as-fuck man in front of me.
He runs his knuckles down the side of my breast and rib cage before sliding them between my legs. Using one finger, he moves the scrap of lace over, and I rise up to settle the tip of him at my opening. Our eyes lock as I sink down on his length.
He groans, and I place my hands on his shoulders, rocking in place.
He takes fistfuls of my ass, helping me get as much friction as possible and pushing him so deep I want to scream.
Needing to feel even closer to him, I wrap my arms around his neck, and his breath tickles my ear.
He nibbles the loose flesh, and his neediness to have me move slower shows when he breaks any distance between our bodies.
“You feel phenomenal,” he says, his breathing hitching when he looks down at where we’re joined. “I’ll never get enough.”
“I hope not. Miles, I’m so close.”
He drills his hips up off the couch, and his dick pushes even deeper inside me. I’m struggling to hold back from going right off the edge.
“Just let it go,” he says, sweat collecting between our bodies. “Come.”
“I don’t want this to end. It feels too good.” I throw back my head, and he leans forward and bites the skin on my neck down to my collarbone. “But when you mark me…”
“What?” He continues to cover me with love bites.
“I love it. It makes me feel…” I can barely finish my thought, I’m so lost in the lust I have for this man. The unbelievable way he fucks me with everything he’s got.
“What does it make you feel?”
Will he ever just let me babble during my orgasms? Probably not. It’s Miles.
He uses his finger to turn my head to face him. “Answer the question, Bryce. It makes you feel…”
I stare into those blue eyes and lose all my bearings, my walls crumbling from the feeling in my gut that’s been tugging at me, telling me I can trust him, he’s not going to hurt me.
“Bryce.”
“That I’m yours. Are you happy? You marking me like some alpha caveman makes me feel like you own me, and as embarrassing as that is for a woman like me, I fucking love it.”
His head falls against the back cushion of the couch, his laughter mixed with a groan. He thrusts harder up into me. “Baby, don’t be embarrassed. I want to belong to you just as much.”
My nails dig into his shoulders because my climax is coming like a freight train that doesn’t have brakes .
“Tell anyone, and I’ll kill you,” I shout, as my orgasm takes over my body. I tense, then all my muscles relax at once as bliss fills me up from the inside.
Miles takes my hips, moving me up and down on his dick until his eyes roll back in his head and my name leaves his lips, sounding like a benediction.
It’s only been one day, and I’m already addicted to him. Or his dick. Yeah, of course it’s his dick. I’ve never been with anyone else who knows how to use theirs like he does.