“Yeah. Thanks again.”
As we return to our teammates, my stomach twists in knots. Here I am advising a young player to do the very thing I’m too chickenshit to do. My excuse is that it’s not relevant. I’m not dating anyone and therefore have no chance of being found out. Andres’ situation is different.
I grab my beer and take a sip, glancing down at my phone to check for messages from Boone, but there aren’t any.
Shoving my phone back into my coat pocket, I look up and spot him across the bar.
My sexy stranger.
He’s with the same guy he was with last time, but this time they’re dressed like regular guys. I didn’t notice that when I saw him in the tunnel earlier.
“Bouche!” Hen grabs my shoulders from behind. “One more shot.”
“No, man. We fly out tomorrow, remember? Don’t want to be hungover for that.”
“Come oooon,” he whines, making me grin.
“I don’t do peer pressure, man.” I kiss his forehead. “You good to get home?”
“Always. Party pooper.”
“See you guys tomorrow,” I holler at my teammates, winking at Andres before turning back around and making eye contact with my sexy stranger.
Will he follow me outside again? Do I want him to? Okay, that’s a dumb question. Of course I want him to. And I want more than a hand down my pants. I let my gaze linger before tugging on my coat lapel and walking through the club.
Outside, I hesitate, giving him time to catch up if he wants to, but then I start walking, heading back to the arena and my car.
Quickly though, I hear the quiet thud of steps and I turn to see him right behind me. He nods in acknowledgment, sliding his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. I liked the other look better, but he definitely doesn’t look like a hit man this time.
Once we cross the street, he closes the distance between us, falling into step right beside me. Damn, he’s fast. And quiet. If I weren’t always on guard, he could probably sneak up on me.
“Hi,” he says, pressing me against my car when we reach it.
“Get in?”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Sure.”
I unlock the door and open the back. My sexy stranger slides inside across the leather seats to wait for me.
“Nice game,” he says.
“Thanks.” I close the door, then pause, unsure what to do now that I have him. Fortunately, I don’t have to figure it out as he takes the lead.
He flicks the button of his jeans open then unzips them so I can see his erection pressing against the material of his briefs. As he tugs his t-shirt up slightly, my mouth waters at the sight of all the freckles on his flat stomach. He’s covered in them.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Want to suck me?” he asks, rubbing his swollen cock.
“I was thinking of the other way around.”
He smiles slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
That’s when I finally notice he has an accent. I’m not sure where from, but it sounds Scandinavian or maybe Eastern European. I’m not good at these things.
“Where are you from?”
He raises an eyebrow. “New Jersey,” he says, but his grin lets me know he’s obviously joking.
