Yet, I felt there was more.
“How was your day?” he countered, his fingers gently stroking my sock-covered foot, and I wanted to sigh. It felt so good. But no matter his deflection, something was up with him, and not in a good way. It bothered me.
“Busy with work. Trying to figure out the best way to portray the little girl the author had in mind was tough, but I think I got the gist of it, and then it was evening. It was peaceful.” I smirked, enjoying teasing him.
Those striking eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” The next minute, he hauled me to him, and I was straddling his thighs. My heart thundered in my ears, so aware of how close I was to him because I could feel the bulge of his cock against my core. But he didn’t do anything, just held my hips.
“Did you accept me?”
My breath caught. “What?” My mind flashed to all kinds of scenarios. Before I made a fool of myself by jumping to the wrong conclusion again, he said, “I’m disappointed, Blue. You’re on that social media site so often—”
“What?” I grabbed my cell from the seat before he finished and went straight to Instagram, checking the notifications now. And I gaped.
war19started following you
What the—?
Instantly, I clicked on his name, my heart drumming in my ears, and followed back.
There was no pic of him. Of course, there wasn’t.
He had his jersey number 19 as his profile avatar andonephoto uploaded, and he’d tagged me. Because why not, since it was his snapshot of me in the rain, glaring and laughing, my hands held out as if to stop him, one palm sporting white paint. My tee was plastered to my chest…I peered closer. Yup, it revealed my hard nips—darn!
Beneath it, he’d written,my girl.
And he’d hashtagged it,#playersgirl #charlij #paintwars
My gaze settled on the likes. Oh my God! Nearly nine thousand likes, and it was still climbing, even the follows. “You-you…”
Words failed me. The picture was put up not even an hour ago when he’d obviously opened the account. I didn’t bother looking at the comments after seeing the first teary-face emoji from some girl because, heck, this was War. The badboy of the Cheetahs who women wanted.
My gaze flashed to his. I flipped my cell to him. “You don’t like social media.”
“Yes,” he said, cool as hell.
“Why?”
“Why not?” His thumbs stroked my hips, sending my hypersensitive body into overdrive. A smirk tugged the corner of his mouth, barely distracting me from his touch. “Thought I’d join in the fun, too.”
I blinked, still in shock, then I huffed out a laugh, trying to get my rampant heartbeat to calm the hell down. “But you can’t only post pictures of me.”
“Why not? I like you.”
“It…it looks obsessive,” I groaned, his words weakening me. “And this…you-me, we’re not even real.” I sighed, lightly smacking his hard abs with the back of my hand.
He grasped my wrist. “You sitting on me is very real. Of course, without clothes is even better.”
“You pulled me here.” My face flamed at his words. I tried to get off him, but his hand tightened on mine, keeping me on his lap. My movements had my core rubbing against his groin, and desire stretched my nerves like a tautly strung bow. “What about your teammates, your friends? Things you like?” I rasped, praying he had no idea how turned on I was or how much I wanted to kiss him again. So, talking seemed like a good idea.
“Why? The Cheetahs have Amber. She’s the PR person who does all the publicity stuff. Max and Jack? Yeah, no. The only one I like is you. Hobbies? Who’s gonna take pictures of me surfing or fishing?” A sly smirk touched his tormenting mouth. “Since you want those kinds of snapshots,youwill have to accompany me. Then we can get them.”
He removed my cell from my clenched fingers and tossed it on the couch, his hands settling on my waist, his thumbs caressing my skin beneath my tee, torching all my nerves endings, but those deep blue eyes watched me, burning with desire.
I inhaled sharply, my throat drying up.
“Kiss me, Charli,” he whispered.
There was so much need in his voice.
