She treats me to a lazy, crooked smile. “I think that’s my line. You’ve at least showered.”
“I like smelling me on you.” I nuzzle against her neck and rub my jaw against her skin.
“You didn’t shave.”
I lift my head. “Too scratchy?”
“Nope. Sexy.”
“If beards turn you on, I can grow a full one.”
“They don’t as a general rule.” She nips my bristled chin. “But you do.”
“Feeling’s mutual.” My hands are already up inside the shirttail and all over her upper thighs and butt, kneading her through the slinky material, wanting her with every savage beat of my heart. In my mind, I bend Dee over the counter, and pay homage to her round, curvy ass.
“What?” she asks when a groan leaves my mouth.
“I’m having a vivid fantasy.”
A soft pink hue colors her cheeks. I find it adorable as hell that despite her boldness the night before, I can still make her blush.
“Another fantasy,” she says warily. “I hope I can live up to them.”
“Baby, you keep surpassing each and every one.” I squeeze her once more and then reluctantly move my hands to her waist. I have less than five minutes. Not nearly enough time for what I have in mind. “So what are your plans for today?”
Her hands circle my nape and the tips of her fingers sneak up into my hair, massaging my scalp, not helping to calm my desire at all.
“I was planning on going to the flea market in Darlington. They have an antiques shop there. I’m looking for one of those roller desks for my home office.”
Claw-foot tub, roller desk…my big-city career woman has an old fashioned streak. “Wait for me and I’ll go with you.”
“Really?” she says in a delighted tone. Then she says cautiously, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s a busy place on Saturdays.”
“I’ll wear my cap and shades. No problem,” I assure her, desperate to show Dee we can have a normal relationship without my celebrity getting in the way. “I’ll be back here around twelve thirty. I’ll bring some lunch with me, and then we can head over to Darlington. And tonight I’ll take you to dinner. Anywhere you want to go.”
“I’d prefer to stay in and cook something for you.”
“Mm…” I murmur, that idea appealing to me even more and slide my lips to the sensitive patch beneath her ear. “Will you cook for me wearing nothing but high heels?”
She laughs breathlessly. “Let me guess…another fantasy.”
“You’re catching on.”
THE BEST THING ABOUT COACHING Dwayde and the kids is their joy for the sport. With Malcolm Peters, basketball was all pressure and no play.
This being the final practice before their game against Monroe, I put them through the paces with drills and mental preparation. It’s not only about winning. It’s just as important for them to feel confident in their ability to put their best performance on the floor and have fun doing it.
But although I should be giving the team my best, I’m preoccupied and distracted. Even as I call out the passing patterns, Dee keeps sidling up sweetly against my thoughts, making me grin at something she said or did or at how sexy she looked this morning. I want to hold her again, talk to her, kiss her, make love to her, satisfy every damn one of my fantasies, and create some new ones of our own.
Eager to get back to Dee, when practice is over I congratulate the team on their great effort, but I’m already slipping on my cap and shades for a quick exit. Victor, who was watching the last half from the bench, saunters over as the ten boys, sharing a round of high fives and chest bumps, head for the locker room.
“Good practice,” he says.
“Yeah. They’re stoked and ready for Friday.” I shrug on my jacket.
His eyebrows arch. “Hurrying off to see Dee?”
I laugh at my transparency. “Yep.”
