“Yeah, it is. I’d say the travel is the hardest part of being a professional athlete. Partners have to handle whatever comes out while we’re playing. It takes a real toll on relationships. But Coach and Gunnar, they’ve worked to build a network so the families have support. Whatever it is—emergency care, new baby, problems with teens—the Wildcatters organization has a liaison on call that partners can reach for help.”
“That’s really smart. And so thoughtful,” I said.
“It’s also self-serving.” Lennon’s mouth kicked up in a smile. “If a player’s worried about what’s going on at home, the distraction impacts performance.”
“Ah.” I settled back into the seat.
After another moment, he pulled into a parking garage. Once we exited the vehicle, Belladonna trotting at Lennon’s side, he led me to the elevator and upstairs to his place. I felt his sideways glances that lingered on my legs and bare arms, and I shifted. While my mind kept telling me to be wary of him, of his lifestyle, my heart pushed me toward him. With a mental sigh, I gave in.
I pivoted so my chest pressed against his and rose up on my tiptoes. Before I could blink, I’d touched my lips to his. Lennon made a gruff sound as his arms encircled my waist, his hand splaying wide between my shoulder blades. I shivered as his fingers touched my skin. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, and I opened my mouth, encouraging his tongue.
I’d missed this—missed him. Each inhale brought more of his scent into my lungs, creating a heady cocktail that made me shove my chest more fully against his hard pecs. He stroked into my mouth, tasting, gauging, learning me and my preferences all over again. Yet it was also like coming home, because he knew me, knew that I went weak in the knees when his tongue rubbed the corner of my bottom lip. He knew I liked to grip the hair at the back of his head. And he knew I couldn’t resist when he cupped my jaw, holding me in place as he plundered my mouth.
I smoothed my tongue against his as I rubbed my hips over his, and Lennon groaned low, almost painfully. I reveled as desire bloomed from my pores, cascading across my skin and pooling in my low belly. The elevator dinged, and Lennon cursed against my lips.
“Oh! Well…I hope you plan to step out, young man, because I have places to be,” came a woman’s voice as the doors slid open.
We pulled apart and turned. An older woman with snowy white bob and sparkling brown eyes stared at us. Belladonna chuffed a greeting.
“Hello, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“Lennon.” She inclined her head. “And this is Vivian?”
“It is,” Lennon said.
My world was off-kilter—as much from that stunning kiss as the fact that this older lady, a neighbor, knew my name.
“About time you brought her here. I’ve been waiting to meet you, Vivian. I’m also a Vivian. That’s how I learned about you.” She winked.
The elevator doors started to close, and she put out her hand even as Lennon put his on the other set of doors. “Why don’t you two finish your business in your condo? I really do need to get to my appointment.” She wrinkled her nose.
Lennon appeared flustered, which on the giant of a man, was utterly adorable. “Yes, we’re getting off. Have a good evening, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“I will now that I see you brought your lady-love home.” Her smile grew, and her eyes sparkled. “Let’s talk soon, Vivian.”
“Y-yes, sure. That would be nice,” I stammered. My cheeks were so hot I thought my skin might sizzle.
Lennon pulled me out of the car and down the hall. We pretended not to hear Mrs. Rodriguez’s chuckle.
“That was mortifying,” I muttered.
“Sorry. I, er, lost control.”
He opened the door and ushered me into his place. The main room was large and open between the living area, kitchen, and dining room.
Lennon seemed to like natural fabrics and mid-tone woods; the cabinets were a warm maple and the countertops a soft beige. In the kitchen, there were large glass jars with baking basics on a wooden shelf next to a high-powered mixer. Seemed the man also loved to bake. In the living room he had a large sectional in a darker brown leather that formed a U-shape in front of a brick fireplace. The floors were a grayish slate that tied the spaces together.
I pursed my lips, considering his comment as well as his home. I liked this place, very much. “No, Lennon. You haven’t fully lost control yet.”
“You remembered—that I need to be in control.” He glanced over as he shut the door. The heat flaring in his eyes matched by the lust still simmering in my gut.
“I know that you prefer to be in charge,” I corrected. “But you will also enjoy ceding it. Because I’m going to make you.” I sashayed into his place behind the dog, unsurprised that Lennon still stood at the door, rigid, his breathing much too fast.
“Let me put away her leash and make her dinner.” He stalked off. I couldn’t help but smile at the tension radiating off of him. Then he abruptly turned and came back. “I’m going to kiss you some more.” He narrowed his eyes. “And then probably some more after that.”
I smirked. “Let’s see what you got, big guy.”
The next night, I gaped as I sat in the plush leather chair with a Wildcatters logo embossed into the soft material. Lola had parked me at the front of the sky-high box in Wildcatters Arena while she got us drinks and snacks. I was too overwhelmed to do more than take in my surroundings. Everything was sumptuous and so fancy, I didn’t want to touch it. The granite countertops gleamed, the glasses were crystal, and the beverages all had names I’d never heard before.
