Dirty Player: A Rough Riders Novel (36 page)

“Okay,” she whispered. She looked up at me, pressed her chin to my chest, and all the pain I was feeling evaporated when her eyes met mine. “Okay. I forgive you.”

“Don’t.” I pressed my hand to her cheek. Satisfaction and victory rolled through me when she melted into my touch. “Let me prove to you that I’ve earned it.”

“You have,” she said, her lips twitching. “You’re here.”

Fucking Christ. She slayed me.

A low groan bubbled from me and I pushed her back just enough so I could reach her lips with mine.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I whispered, my nose brushing against hers. “And you’re going to fucking love it.”

She laughed softly and nodded. “Please.”

I took her mouth harshly. My need was too great, my desire to show her how much her trust and forgiveness and love meant to me. I slid my tongue into her mouth and devoured her, unable to stop my hands from roaming her sides, pulling her to me. The kiss was frantic and wild, like so much of what we were. 

I lost myself in it, lost myself in the feel of her and her scent and her taste, and before I knew it I had her in my arms, my cock against the center of her, and I placed her on the top of a counter.

Her fingers dug into my shoulders, through my shirt. I relished the pain. I wanted her to hurt me, give me the pain I’d caused in her. 

She whimpered as I held her against my hard dick, rocking against me.

I swallowed her cries as we lost ourselves in the moment, lost ourselves in each other, and it was only a humored throat clearing that pulled my attention away from her.

We were both panting when we turned our heads toward the sound.

“Fuck,” I whispered when I saw Melissa leaning against a wall, arms crossed over her chest, a very amused smile on her face.

“I forgot she was here,” Shannon whispered and then giggled.

Fucking giggled.

“Now that’s what I like to see,” Melissa said. “I very much like you making her laugh rather than making her cry.”

Melissa’s smile disappeared and I sobered.

“Me too.”

“See that you do it more often then.”

With fucking pleasure. “I will,” I promised Melissa. “Now can we get back to it?”

“Oliver!” Shannon smacked me against my chest, but it lacked any heat. 

“Oh no,” Melissa said, lifting her hand in a wave. “I’ll let myself out. You two…” She paused and winked. “Well, you two just get back to whatever it was you were doing before.”

“I love you, Missy Pissy,” Shannon said. 

I could have let her go to hug her friend, but I didn’t. She was in my arms, and I was going to keep her there until I was done with her. And I’d had days to plan out our make-up sex. I was stocked full of fantasies.

“I love you too, Shanna Banana.”

I laughed at their crazy nicknames and said goodbye to Melissa before she walked down the hallway.

“We should finish this somewhere else,” I said, turning back to Shannon.

“I have work to do,” Shannon said, and my gut tightened. My dick was still hard against her. I needed inside of her. 

Now.

Then she grinned and ran a finger down my jaw. “But it can wait.”

***

One of my hands slid around to her front and pressed against her clit.

My other hand went to her ass and I pressed my thumb against her puckered hole.

I wasn’t fucking her this time. She was on her hands and knees, fucking me, rocking her hips back as she slid along the length of my shaft—and damn, she was so fucking gorgeous taking everything she wanted from me without shame that I had to fight to not explode before she did.

“Yes,” she whimpered. She faltered in her hurried movements when I pressed my thumb against her, not entering, just teasing. “Oliver, please.”

“Your ass?” I grunted. “You want me filling your ass? You like it, don’t you? So fucking naughty for me.”

“Please.”

“No.” I pulled my hand back and smacked her ass, loving the way she jumped at the sting of the pain and reared back into me at the same time. “Fuck me, Shannon.”

I held her against my hips as my orgasm began to coil tight in my balls. Bending over her, I hit her deeper. I wanted her to be consumed by me.

We’d made love earlier and we’d eaten. Then we’d taken a nap, naked and tangled in her bed, before I’d woken up with her mouth wrapped around my dick.

She sucked me until I was hard and ready and then rolled to her knees, a soft, pleading tone in her voice when she whispered, “Fuck me, please. I’ve missed you.”

And hell if it hadn’t undone me. I’d missed her too.

I always would when she wasn’t around me.

“Shannon, honey.” I grunted and pulled her against me. 

Her hands slid out from beneath her until she fell to her elbows, and I knew she was close. But fuck, she felt so good. 

“You’re so fucking hot and tight wrapped around me, honey. Take me. All of it. Show me what you like.”

“You,” she whimpered, her cunt beginning to get tight around me. “I like you.”

I reached down and wrapped a hand around her throat, pulling her up to me until her back was to my chest. I didn’t put pressure there, but held her firmly. “You love me.”

She cried out from the change in position and her hands flew to my wrist in front of her. The fingers of my other hand pressed and rolled against her clit.

“Say it,” I growled in her ear, fucking her harder. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against my shoulder. Damn it, she was so tiny and malleable in my arms. So fucking turned on by everything I did to her. I would never get sick of her. 

Never stop desiring her body or her laughter or her smiles or her cunt.

I’d never stop loving her.

“Say you love me,” I said. “I need to hear it.”

She must have heard the depth of my voice, the honesty buried inside that she’d always seem to rip from me whether I wanted it or not.

“I love you,” she panted. “I love you, Oliver.”

She came then, my thumb on her clit, my hand at her throat, and my dick buried deep.

It still wasn’t enough, and as she came in my arms and around my dick, I followed quickly, grunting that I loved her too while I shot my load deep inside of her.

I pushed her forward, cushioning her fall, and settled my weight over hers, bracing up on an elbow to avoid crushing her. We rode out our orgasms connected, slowly, and when she’d drained every drop from me and she’d stopped tightening around my dick, I stayed inside of her, pulling out and pushing in at a languid pace.

She trembled beneath me, and I saw her lips tilt to a smile. “I like it when you do that,” she whispered. “Just like this.”

“I like it when you’re beneath me,” I replied and brushed hair off her cheeks until I could see her eyes. “I’m still really sorry, Shannon. I’m so sorry I hurt you so bad. I’ll do my best to not let it happen in the future.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But I forgive you, and I love you.”

I brushed my lips against her cheek. “I love you too.”

I did. I’d take this chance she gave me and prove to her exactly the kind of man I wanted to be. I wanted to take her to my house, burn it down and build another one in its place that was everything she had ever dreamed of. I wanted to plant my babies inside of her and watch them grow up, flourishing under her kind and crazy love.

I wanted to have her by my side after every game, celebrating every win and commiserating after every loss.

I would spend the rest of my days proving to her exactly how much I loved her, how much I cherished her, how much I never wanted to hurt her again, and if I did, I wanted to prove to her that I wouldn’t be a fucking dumbass and I’d make amends immediately, not letting it fester until it became buried deep inside her.

Shannon Hale swooped into my life at a time when love and laughter and forever were the last damn things on my mind, but she changed my mind about all of it almost as soon as I’d touched her, before I could admit it to myself.

Now, I just had to spend the rest of my life showing her how much it meant to me.

It’d be the dirtiest game of my life.

EPILOGUE

SHANNON

Confetti rained down on me and the massive crowd allowed on the field after the final field goal had determined our victory.

The Raleigh Rough Riders were Super Bowl Champions.

My cheeks ached from grinning so wide as I searched through the horde of people, trying to find Beaux or Oliver.

Next to me, Jillian Rudolph squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to the stage they’d set up immediately following the game.

“Come on!” she shouted, turning back to look at me. Mascara stained her cheeks from happy tears and I knew mine looked similar. “They’re this way!”

As soon as we got close, elbowing our way through the reporters and ducking beneath their oversized cameras, I came face to face with one of the men I’d been searching for.

“We fucking did it!” Oliver pulled me into his arms and lifted me high into the air, squeezing me so hard I was breathless. “I can’t believe we pulled it off.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. “You were amazing. That last catch right on the two-yard line you had will go down in history as one of the best ever.”

He swung me in a circle before setting me on my feet. “It was a hard-fought game, by both teams.”

I rolled my eyes before I planted my lips on his. Oliver wasn’t known for his humility. I blamed his statement on shock. He was right, though: Raleigh and Seattle had battled back and forth all game, making it a nail-biter of epic proportions. An interception with less than a minute left had ended in our game-winning field goal and a final score of 27-25. 

“I’m so proud of you,” I whispered into his ear.

“Hey. What am I, chopped liver?”

I turned to Beaux, and Oliver let me go so I could immediately be swept up in my brother’s arms. He squeezed me almost as tightly as Oliver just had, but I clung to him more tightly. “I’m so damn proud of you,” I whispered, holding him so tight around his neck that I thought I might choke him. “Can you believe you’ve done it?”

“Feels fucking awesome.”

He let me go, and Oliver’s hand went to my lower back. A look I didn’t understand passed between the two of them before we heard another roar rumble through the crowd.

“That’s Coach,” Beaux said, nodding at Oliver. “Need to get to the podium.”

“Come on.” Oliver pressed me forward, stopping briefly to accept congratulations and pats on the back from media and fans and family members of teammates while he pushed me toward the podium with him.

My feet halted as he reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Come with me.”

I glanced between Beaux and Oliver. “I should stay here.”

“Fuck if you are,” Beaux said, a teasing glimmer in his eye. “Family’s allowed up here when the MVP trophy is presented.”

My eyes widened. “MVP? You?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” I laughed as I turned to Oliver, who repeated Beaux’s exact question from earlier.

“You?”

He nodded, lips twisting into a smirk. “Of course. You said yourself that catch would go down in history as the best ever.”

“You’re an asshole,” Beaux said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Of course it’s me. Wouldn’t have gotten the win without my arm of steel.”

My gaze jumped between both of them and their banter. I had no idea who was being serious and who had won, but it didn’t matter. They were both incredible and had played an amazing game.

Reluctantly, I let Oliver guide me onto the podium. There, I was met by Jillian, who had found Danny, Kolby with his daughter, Mya, on his hip, and the coaches with their families.

As soon as we made it up there, Oliver pulled me to his side as Coach Pomville gave a speech that sent the throng of people in front of us into another hysteric cheer.

When he was done, he turned to Oliver and winked. “And now, for our MVP! A man who has been with this team for the last five years, who has fought the hard battles, celebrated the victories, and helped lead this team into what it became today. Our Team Captain…and our MVP, Oliver Powell!”

The sound from beneath the podium became so loud that I fought the urge to cover my ears, but my grin spread so wide I thought my cheeks would burst.

Oliver tugged me forward with him to accept the trophy, not dropping his hand from mine until he had the MVP trophy in his hands and raised it above his head.

“Thank you,” he said into the microphone, smiling down at his parents, who had made it into the front row. After his dad’s heart attack at the first game of the season, they’d gone home and he’d had surgery. Then he’d sold his farm, but it took him so long to recover from surgery and then finish the sale that they hadn’t been able to make it to many games during the year. Tears dripped down both his parents’ cheeks when Oliver smiled at them and began thanking the crowd for the honor, thanking his coach and his team. I barely heard it over the noise, despite him being next to me.