But when Coach let us go last night and told us to get some rest for the game today, I knew rest would be the last thing I’d find until I told her how I felt.
Part of me wished I’d been wise enough to do this last week, when I had her in my arms ready for me to take her. But it wasn’t right, the timing of it, the feeling of it. And maybe the last seven agonizing days were what made last night so sweet.
She felt the same.
She wanted me, too.
God, just thinking of how she’d whispered that she was mine on her front stoop made my chest squeeze in a mixture of possession and elation.
It was enough to drive a sane man out of his mind, to have a girl like Giana open up for me, let me in, trust me with everything that she was, and give herself to me in every way that she could.
I wouldn’t take a second of it for granted.
A garbage truck squeaking to a stop outside stirred Giana awake, and she blinked a few times, smacking her lips together before her tongue slid out to wet them. Her eyes widened when she found me staring back at her.
“Good morning,” I said.
She blinked, and then instantly covered her head with the comforter. “Oh my God, look away. Close your eyes so I can make an escape to the bathroom.”
The words were muffled under the covers, and I chuckled, ripping them off her head before I pulled her into me and kissed her — long, slow, and with every intent to do it all morning.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her.
“Not at seven AM, I’m not.”
“Especially then,” I argued, kissing her nose, but I still held her in my arms. “How are you feeling?”
Her resistance faded, and she melted into my embrace, watching her fingernails as they drew lines over my bicep. “Amazing,” she whispered, a blush tingeing her cheeks. “Sore, and dehydrated,” she added with a laugh. “But… amazing.”
I intertwined her hand in mine, pulling her to my lips so I could kiss each of her fingertips. She watched me as I did, brows furrowing even as a smile bloomed on her lips.
“This is real,” I said, hoping I could soothe whatever anxiety was already creeping into her mind in the daylight. “You and me, we’re real.”
She let out a long sigh. “So, it wasn’t a dream.”
“Like your imagination could cook up something that hot.”
She snorted, rolling her eyes before she climbed on top of me. I let her maneuver us until I was on my back, she on her knees and settled into my lap.
“So, what does this mean for us now?”
“What do you want it to mean?” I countered.
Giana considered, her hands interlaced with mine and floating in the space between us as she pulled her mouth to one side in thought.
“Well,” she started. “I guess not much has to change, does it? Everyone already thinks we’re dating.”
“Correction — a lot will change. Because as if it wasn’t hard enough for me to keep my hands off you when we were pretending, it’s going to be fucking impossible now.”
I trailed my eyes over her breasts, visible through the sheer white tank top she’d thrown on after our shower last night. Her sleep shorts were so small they barely covered her ass, and I broke my grip with her hands so I could palm that behind and roll her against my hardening shaft.
She bit her lip, rolling her body to give me the friction I desired. “Promises, promises,” she teased.
I groaned when the middle of her ran along my hard length, pulling her down so I could wrap my arms fully around her and feel the warmth of her pressed against me. “As much as I want to watch you ride me in the morning light,” I said, flexing my hips to show just how much I wanted that. “You need to rest after last night.”
She pouted, sagging in my arms.
“Trust me,” I assured her. “You’re going to be more sore there than you realize.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
I gave her a look, but then, in a move of both selfish need and stubborn persistence to prove I was right, I snaked my fingers up the inside of her thigh and under the fabric of her sleep shorts. Giana trembled when I ran the pad of my thumb against her seam, and when I pushed just the slightest bit against her entrance, she hissed, pulling away from the touch.
“See?” I arched a brow.
Giana conceded with a sigh.
“Besides,” I added, holding her in my lap. “I need to get down to the stadium. Bus leaves in an hour.”
Giana blinked as if coming out of a hypnosis. “Oh, shit. It’s game day!”
She hopped off me in an instant, scrambling to her closet with only a quick glance at the time on her phone.
“I don’t even have a bag packed.”
“It’s one night.”
“I’m supposed to be down there already. We have to pack up all the gear.”
“Charlotte will manage,” I promised her, but she kept sifting through her clothes until I got up and physically hauled her into my arms, her back to my chest, sinking us both back down into the bed with her on my lap.
“You brute,” she teased, smacking my chest.
“You love it.”
“Another tip you picked up from my books?”
“Those things are like a treasure map. Just follow the tabs and highlights to find the pot of gold.”
My fingers walked along her thigh until I could cup her, and she rolled into the touch, sighing as her head fell back against my chest. For a moment, she rested there, and then she pivoted in my arms to straddle me again.
“It was awful last night,” she said, brows bending together. “With Shawn. I mean, it was fine, like if I wasn’t in my head about you, I’m sure it would have been a great date. But I was so sick,” she admitted, shaking her head. “When he kissed me, I—”
“He kissed you?”
The ice in my words knocked her silent. “Y-yes.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ll murder him.”
“Hey, this was our plan, technically. I don’t think we can kill him for doing exactly what we wanted him to.”
I arched a brow in my beg to differ, but Giana smoothed her thumb over it before leaning in for a long, slow kiss.
“I don’t want him,” she said against my lips. “You’ve had me since the first fake kiss.”
I let out a deeper exhale with that, wrapping her up. “That kiss was not fake.”
Giana buried her head in my chest for only a moment before she hopped off my lap altogether, grabbing me by the wrists and tugging me up, too.
“Come on. We have a game to win,” she said, tossing me my t-shirt. I caught her wrist when she did and pulled her back into me.
“I think we already won.”
She smiled against my kiss, letting me dip her back before she shoved me off again.
“Shirt. Now,” she said, snapping her fingers and pointing at the cloth in my hand. “You can try another tabbed scene on me later.”
“Oh, trust me. I plan to. The ones you highlighted in Sated Love…”
Her cheeks burned bright red before she was smacking me in the chest and shoving me toward the front door.
“Get your own breakfast, you book stealer,” she barked.
But that didn’t stop her from melting into me when I pulled her in for one last kiss on my way out.