“From my IG?”
“I may have watched some of your videos. Just for the skincare tips.”
“Coach Turner, do you have a crush on me?” she asks playfully.
Her calling me that in bed feels wrong, but it also turns me on—hard. “I think I might.” I draw my fingertips across her back lightly and she snuggles closer to me. “That explains the stalker part, but not the daddy part.”
She laughs and kisses my chest, then props herself up on an elbow. “Don’t play too old and uncool to know what it means.”
I slide a hand over her hip. “I get it. You need an older, more experienced man to take charge and tell you what a good girl you are.”
Something flashes in her eyes—I think it’s arousal. “There’s one older, more experienced man in particular, yes.”
I brush her hair back from her face, studying her face. “He’s a lucky bastard.”
“He is. I hear he has a bad hip, though. I’m not sure how long he’ll be able to keep up with me in bed.”
I laugh at that. It’s the best laugh I’ve had in a long time. My right hip has bothered me since I was a player. It’s manageable, but I have to stretch it often.
“Now who’s the stalker?” I tease.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get on top anytime you want so you can rest your old, weary hip.”
I run my hand down to her ass, squeezing one cheek and then smacking it. “Won’t be an issue, beautiful. But you can get on top of me anytime you want.”
She’s radiant, her smile pleased. I never called women I was with pet names because it felt off. It was never me. I’m gruff and affectionate; words don’t come easily to me.
They do with Jules, though. And tonight, I get her all to myself. It is a little risky to be staying here together, but I couldn’t resist her any longer.
If there are consequences for this, I’ll make sure I’m the one to pay them.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jules
Five WeeksLater
Eli furrows his brow,looking from the plate I just set aside, and then back to me.
“What’s special about that part of it?”
“Your mom hasn’t told you?”
Blair glances up from the potatoes she’s peeling at the kitchen table. “I thought I did. I must have forgotten. In our family, there’s a tradition where boys eat a special part of a turkey on Thanksgiving when they’re seven.”
He looks at the plate again. “Okay. What part is it?”
“It’s the turkey’s penis,” I say matter-of-factly.
Cooper howls with amusement from nearby. Eli’s eyes widen in horror. I almost feel bad about pranking him. Almost. The turkey neck was practically begging me and Blair to use it as a prank prop.
“It tastes just like the rest of it,” I assure him. “Lots of protein in a turkey penis.”
He steps back from the kitchen counter. “I’m not eating that.”
Blair gives him a mock understanding look. “You have to, Eli. There are special nutrients in it.”
He cringes. “Can Coop eat half of it?”
