Everyone who works within the New York Warriors organization knows that star player August Fletcher refuses to talk to most people...and especially team reporters. All except Quinn Castle, that is.
Quinn doesn't know why the broody football player...
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I STOOD IN THE small bedroom doorway, holding a pizza box as I watched Quinn's steady breathing and listened to the gentle pattering of rain that continued to fall.
It was definitely calm enough outside to head home, but I hadn't wanted to wake Quinn. Or burst the bubble that seemed to surround us on this boat.
So instead, I'd untangled myself from Quinn's sleeping body, ordered us a pizza for dinner, and then walked a few steps outside to grab it from the delivery guy.
I'd crossed a big fucking line when I'd carried her into this bedroom earlier, but I hadn't been thinking about anything other than how badly I needed her. And I was still struggling to think about anything else. For Christ's sake, she was lying before me naked, covered only in a flimsy bedsheet. How was I supposed to think of anything else?
She was incredible. Every inch of her was incredible, and I wish I'd had enough restraint to fully explore every inch of her before losing it. Because I didn't have much hope that I'd get to touch her again the way I wanted to. She might have been enthusiastic about it earlier, but I was sure she'd come to her senses.
The bottom line was that Quinn was here on a job, a job she really liked and was really good at. And once she thought through what I'd said earlier, she'd realize that being with me would jeopardize that job.
"What are you doing, Fletcher?"
Quinn's murmured voice broke through my thoughts. Something twisted in my stomach at the sound of her sleep-coated words.
I let my gaze rake over her. That pretty brown hair draped over the stark white pillowcases, and an equally pretty blush spread across her cheeks when she realized what I was doing.
"Just memorizing the image. Of you...like this."
"I'd be happy to recreate it for you whenever you want," Quinn said, rubbing her eyes adorably.
I knew she meant well, but her statement was impossible.
For me, whenever I wanted was all the time. Next week, next month, next year.
I cleared my throat and pushed off from the door frame. "That's a pretty bold promise for someone who lives hundreds of miles away."
She rolled her eyes at me as I sat on the edge of the bed. "You know what I mean."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not sure I do."
Quinn tugged the bedsheet up to her chin in an almost contradiction to what she'd just promised–like she was hiding from me. Although, in reality she was covering very little of anything, considering how thin that sheet was. The outline of her curves was very much visible, and my cock twitched in my shorts, remembering how fucking good it felt to be squeezed between her tits.
As I said, lines were crossed.
"I mean...for however long I'm here, I can recreate it for you," Quinn clarified.
