Dirty Player: A Rough Riders Novel (30 page)

“Nice, asshole,” I muttered to myself, chuckling while I filled a mug of coffee for myself. “You think your dick is so perfect it can fuck with a woman’s common sense.”

“It can.”

I flinched at the voice behind me and turned to see Shannon. Her shoulder rested against the doorframe to my kitchen, her eyes still sleepy and only half open.

“What are you doing up?” I asked, smiling at what she’d said. 

She walked toward me, collapsing against my body when she reached me and lazily wrapped her hands around my waist. “Smelled coffee. Woke up without you. What are you doing up?”

“Need to feed the horses.”

She tilted her head back and grinned. “Can I help?”

 “You want to?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Goddamn. She blew me away at every corner.

“This is the second time, you know, that you’ve ruined my plans for wanting you to sleep in so I can fuck you awake when you’ve been here.”

Those sleepy eyes went hazy with something entirely different from tiredness.

“Then you should do the fucking first and worry about the horses and coffee later,” she suggested, wriggling her brows in response.

“You really want to help me?” I asked, still surprised she’d be willing. She didn’t need to.

“Yeah…you can get me dirty and then clean me up.” She yawned over her words and covered her mouth. 

“Don’t you know, Shannon,” I whispered, unable to hide the gruffness in my tone, “that I like you filthy?”

She laughed softly and yawned again. “Of course you do. I need coffee before I go feed the horses.”

I let her go after dipping down and brushing my lips against hers, giving her a sweet, closed-mouth kiss.

“By the way,” she said, turning to me with a coffee mug pressed close to her lips, “you still haven’t fucked me with those sexy glasses on.”

I adjusted them on the bridge of my nose and winked. “We’ll see to that later.”

***

“You doing okay?” I asked, my voice tight with the need to sink inside of her. Instead, I had three fingers in her ass as she writhed beneath me, her legs spread wide on my bed. 

It was Sunday night, and I’d had the weekend of my fantasies. I now had a memory of fucking her everywhere in my house, every way I’d wanted to take her. She’d worked beside me with the horses, and when we weren’t walking around my land where I showed her all my favorite parts on horse and on foot, we’d spent time in front of the television hanging out, cooking meals together.

This morning she went to the game with me, sat next to Rudolph’s wife in the seats Beaux had bought for her, and cheered us on to a victory.

And the best part? It was only the beginning.

I’d wanted to fuck her one last time in my bed, slowly and passionately, taking all the time we had left. But then she’d looked at me and grinned, blush hitting her cheeks, and she’d timidly asked, “Can you fuck me…there…with your glasses on?” I’d changed course immediately.

I’d oblige her anything when she looked at me like that.

“I’m good.” Her lips parted and her eyes widened, looking down to where I was taking my time preparing her.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She nodded, but doubt still warred in her cocoa-colored eyes. That was okay, too. I had all the time in the world to prove that to her.

“Please, Oliver.”

I loved it when she begged. Loved it when she bucked her hips toward me, seeking more of what she wanted from me. But the begging hit me straight in my already hard dick every damn time.

“You need to be ready,” I said, looking down at her glistening pussy. If I rolled my tongue around her clit, she’d come in a heartbeat. “Bare?” I asked again. I’d taken her that way every night, but this was different. 

“Yes,” she answered immediately, panting. “Now. I’m good. Ready.”

I leaned down, laughing softly while I kissed her and used my fingers to continue stretching her. I swallowed her groans and my balls grew tight and heavy. 

Fuck. I’d shoot as soon as I was inside her. She was so tight. So hot.

So fucking deliciously naughty.

There was no way I wouldn’t have fallen in love with this woman.

Sliding my fingers out of her, I placed my tip at her entrance. “I’ll go slow,” I assured her, pressing against her. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Her hands hit my hips and she stole my breath with the desperation in her voice. “Don’t stop. Never.”

Slowly, I began to slide into her, watching her expression as I stretched her wider than she’d been before.

Her eyes widened in surprise and then she flinched as I pressed the head of my cock inside of her. 

“Just a minute, Shan. Let me get inside and I’ll stop.”

She nodded frantically, her fingers digging into my hips. “Hurry.”

I pushed inside of her, sliding my fingers against her clit to give her another sensation to focus on.

“Just relax. There you go, good girl.” Her hips arched up, seeking more, and that one quick move from her pushed me deep inside of her.

“Fuck,” I groaned, closing my eyes. She was like a damn vise, squeezing my dick hard and tight while sucking me into her at the same time.

“Move,” she moaned. “Move something, anything.”

I bit back a laugh at her desperateness and slid my fingers against her clit. She was so fucking drenched. Hot and wet, her cream glistened all over the lips of her pussy.

I slid my dick in further, waiting for a sign that it hurt too much but every time I pushed in, she pulled me closer.

“So good,” she whimpered when I’d finally sunk inside of her. “Please. I need more.”

That
please
. It undid me every time.

“I can’t go slower anymore,” I warned her, resting one of my hands on her hips, holding her against me. The walls of her ass clenched tight, her pussy and clit were swollen and dripping, and all of it was about to send me over the edge.

She cried out my name as I pulled out and pushed back inside of her. Then I began moving, pressing my thumb against her clit before teasing her cunt with my fingers.

“Fucking hell,” I groaned, watching her legs begin to shake as she quivered from head to toe.

I let loose, fucking her like an animal, like I needed her to breathe.

Some deep part of me whispered that I did.

I fucking needed this woman. I needed her cunt and her mouth, and I needed her damn heart and soul.

“Oliver!” she cried out as her orgasm took her over the ledge. 

I was mesmerized by the way her body bucked wild beneath me. My thumb and finger pinched her clit as she began to slow, sending her straight into another orgasm.

My own climax started at my spine, that fucking buzz of heat that went straight to my balls and my dick.

I thrust myself inside of her deep, exploding all of me into her, hoping it was enough to keep her connected to me forever.

“Shannon,” I groaned as my dick still twitched deep inside her ass. “You’re so damn incredible.”

Her hands slid from my hips to my back. Her fingertips lightly trailed down my spine and around to my sides. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.” She opened her eyes, blinked slowly, and smiled before she frowned. “I love you. Please don’t hurt me.”

Damn.

Her vulnerability, her fear, went straight to my chest and I pulled out of her slowly before I fell between her legs. 

“Never,” I promised. “I’ll try my best, every single fucking day to never hurt you.”

I was a man of my word. Always had been.

I hoped like hell I’d prove it true with her.

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

SHANNON

It was official. I was completely freaking out.

“This is amazing,” Melissa said, bouncing up to me with two glasses of champagne in her hand.

We’d been busy since one o’clock with the official grand opening of Stamped. We had champagne and tiny cupcakes and bite-sized cookies brought in from a bakery just down the street, and we were almost out of the hundreds we’d ordered.

I’d made more money in one day than I had in almost six months.

My head hadn’t stopped spinning.

The last two weeks had completely flown by. I’d spent most nights with Oliver at my place or one of his. Sometimes we met at his hotel crash pad, and on weekends we went to his house. Other nights he came directly to Stamped and had to almost physically haul me out of my workroom.

I was in way over my head. My online sales had started booming after the street fair, from mostly local customers who had stopped by my booth. I’d had dozens of previous customers contact me wanting more jewelry after seeing my website had been updated with the information of my first physical store location.

My fingers were cut and callused and bandaged and worn down from all the work I’d been doing.

The first day had completely blown my mind and I owed it all to Beaux, his faith in me, and the marketing company he’d hired for me to help with the opening.

“I don’t know what to do with all this,” I said as I took another glass of champagne from her hand. It was only my third of the day. I’d been sipping it slowly despite wanting to chug bottle after bottle to assuage my nerves. “This is more than I imagined. I’m going to need help, I think, to keep up with the production.” I slid her a glance. “Know any jewelry designers who could help?”

She shot me a look that was clear. “Hell no. You’re the only person I know who’s this talented. I’m just glad you’re finally seeing it for yourself.”

I shook my head and looked around, awed at the amount of people in my store. It was packed full. Product was flying off the shelves faster than we could replace it.

I was going to have to do something if this wasn’t some rare Thursday fluke.

At least hire someone to help me work in the store so I could spend my time creating.

Needless to say, my time with Oliver had been helpful in more ways than one. He listened to me bitch, he supported me, he gave me ideas on advertising when I was stressed out, and then when I was super-stressed, he found multiple ways, almost nightly, to help me relax. I did the same for him, I knew it. He never hesitated to bounce ideas off me. Some nights we talked plays. Some nights we just hung out in front of the television, barely watching whatever was on and talking about our lives.

I had fallen in love with him quickly, painlessly. So easily that some days I wondered if it was all a dream.

If it was, I never wanted to wake up from it.

Especially not on this day.

I’d made other decisions in the past few weeks, too. While I’d told Oliver that I didn’t want to be in his shadow, with all the support I knew he was giving me, I wanted to do the same for him. Because of that, and partly still out of my fear of failing at this whole running-my-own-business thing, Stamped was only open four days a week. My marketing coordinator, Lacy, assured me we could use that to our advantage. I wanted it closed on Sundays so I could at least make sure I was able to attend home games. We were open from Wednesday through Saturday, when the arts district had its busiest foot traffic anyway.

Based on the day’s opening, it seemed to be working.

I walked around for a few minutes, speaking with customers, unable to keep the thrilled grin off my face before I moved back behind the counter to help Melissa ring up several sales.

“Thanks for being here, by the way.” 

She rolled her eyes as she said goodbye to another customer, handing her the hot pink bag filled with purchases. “You’re so stupid. You’ve thanked me a thousand times, and where else would I be? Plus”—she turned to me and wiggled her brows—“I can’t wait for the game this weekend. All those hot, sexy men on the field. Me watching you be a nervous wreck around Oliver’s parents.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned and tossed back a large swallow of bubbly champagne.

“It’ll be fine.” She hip-checked me as she came close, wrapping one arm around my shoulder and waving the other out at the sea of people. “And so will this. You’ve done good, amazing things in a short amount of time, and I’m really proud of you.”

Emotion burned the backs of my eyes and I blinked it away. “This feels like a dream.”

“It is.” She turned to me, both of her hands on my shoulders, and stared directly into my eyes. “And it’s your dream, finally come true. Now you get to enjoy it.”

She winked and turned away when her eyes popped open and her mouth dropped. With the sudden quiet in the space, you could have heard a pin drop—and then it changed to quiet, quick murmurs and people reaching for their cell phones.

Oliver and Beaux and Kolby paid none of the women any attention as they pushed themselves into the doorway.

They headed straight for me, all wearing ball caps but clearly unable to hide who they were.

“Hey,” I said, breathless as Oliver sauntered directly to me on the other side of the counter. He didn’t care about the space between us as he reached out, cupped my neck with his hand, and pulled me toward him.