“We have to give this some time, but…I can see it happening.” She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight. “I want to be where you are,” she whispers against my ear.
Just hearing her voice so close to my ear drives me wild. I attack her with renewed gusto, kissing her soundly, repositioning us so she’s lying on the bed and I’m hovering above her, racing my mouth all over her skin. She giggles when my lips land on certain spots, and I’m sure I’m tickling her, but once I place my mouth on her pussy, all that giggling stops and she starts moaning. Wiggling. Rubbing herself against my lips and chin.
This woman loves it when I go down on her.
I cradle her ass in my hands and basically devour her, licking and sucking her clit until it’s swollen and throbbing beneath my tongue. At one point, her eyes crack open and meet mine, and it’s my turn to put on a show for her. I draw my tongue across her, my gaze never leaving hers as I lap at her folds.
“Oh God,” she chokes out, and I know she’s close. We both get off on watching each other. It’s like we’re compatible in every way. As if she were made for me.
I can’t believe I almost lost her.
Hours later, we’re still awake. Makeup sex is a great thing, though I don’t want to put us in the place we were in a few days ago. That about destroyed me.
“You think we’re moving too fast?” Eleanor asks at one point. She’s draped her naked body across mine, our hands wandering as usual. We can’t stop touching each other. I actually crave her skin. The scent of her. The feel of her.
It’s kind of nuts.
“No,” I say firmly. “Others might say that, but it feels right to me.”
“It feels right to me too.” She presses a kiss on my pec. My cock makes a halfhearted attempt at rousing, like it might be down for some action, but my muscles feel like jelly. I don’t think I can physically have sex with her again tonight.
I’m a professional athlete who’s expected to go nonstop, and I need to rest after having too much sex. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.
But I’m not complaining.
“I have a question,” Eleanor suddenly says, her voice hesitant.
What’s that about.
Frowning, I glance down at her to find she’s already watching me. “What?”
“Did you actually rate me? On the dating app?”
I chuckle, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “Nope. I guess I should. Ten out of ten. Five stars. Superior status. Whatever scale they use, you’re at the top.”
“So are you.” She laughs as she rests her cheek on my chest. “Tomorrow we should look over a calendar and compare each other’s schedules.”
“And delete all dating apps from our phones,” I add.
“Most definitely.” She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “I’m sure you’re going to get super busy with football.”
“Very busy,” I agree. “And I want you to come to some of my games.”
“I totally want to go to them!” She lifts her head, smiling at me. Her hair is a mess. Her eyelids are at half-mast and she looks exhausted.
And happy. So happy.
“Good.” I give her a squeeze. “Have you ever been to a NFL game before?”
“No, we never got around to it, though we always meant to.” She makes a face. “My family…we’re all Niner fans.”
“We?” I lift my brows.
“Joe Montana is the king,” she whispers.
“Overrated,” I say, though I’m teasing her.
Her mouth drops open. “Those are fighting words.”
“Please. Claiming you’re a Niner fan when I play for the Raiders? Them’s fighting words, lady.” I start tickling her, my fingers wiggling against her ribs, and she bats my hands away, both of us laughing.
Soon our laughter stops and my mind drifts. My eyes close. I got my woman in my arms and I’ve never felt so content.
Life is good.
Epilogue
Eleanor
Seven months later…
A new year means new beginnings, and I’m in the throes of creating beginnings all over the place. I quit my job. Just moved out of my apartment. Packed up all my stuff—and do I have a lot of stuff—and hired a moving company to take my belongings to Las Vegas.
Yep, Mitch and I are moving in together.
I know I said I never thought I could live in Las Vegas, but when a woman finds a good man and falls in love with him? She’ll do just about anything to make it work. And since Mitch is the one who’s stuck in Las Vegas due to his profession, I happily agreed to live with him.
Plus, come on. Las Vegas is like the marriage capital of the world. So many places to get married at! This city is right up my alley.
Anyway, Mitch bought a house a few months ago, and oh my God, it’s so gorgeous. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, with an open-concept kitchen and a beautiful backyard with a pool. It’s brand new—everything inside is white and gleaming and perfect and we’re going to make this place ours.
We’re headed to the house now to meet the movers. Mitch took most of his belongings in almost a week ago, right before he had a playoff game. He came back a few days ago after his team won, and he’s been on a perma-high ever since. I arrived in Las Vegas last night on a one-way ticket.
This is my town now, and I’m so excited. Beyond ready to create this new life with Mitch. Of course, I’m going to miss my friends terribly. We had a big cry fest together a few nights ago. We all gathered at Tuscany, the restaurant Stella’s brothers own, and ate delicious Italian food and drank a lot of wine. We cried and laughed and talked about fun times together, and at one point I told them this wasn’t a funeral. I’ll be back. And they can come visit me in Sin City whenever they want.
They all cheered when I made that offer.
And I mean it. I want them to visit me as much as possible. It’s going to be weird, not being able to see my friends on a regular basis, but that’s what texting and FaceTime is for. Living in Las Vegas isn’t forever either. Mitch told me he doesn’t see himself lasting beyond a couple of more seasons in the NFL. His position is tough. Hard on the body. He doesn’t want to hurt himself and be forced to retire. He wants to leave on his own terms.
After that, he wants to go back to California. That’s his native state, and it’s mine too. It might be expensive to live there, but with what Mitch makes, money is no object.
Isn’t that exciting? I remember thinking I would never know what it’s like, to not have to worry about money, and now I’m living the dream!
Oh, I’m still working, though. Mama has to make her own money, am I right? I found a job at a high-end salon in the Wilder Hotel, of all places. The salon is part of their renowned day spa. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Caroline mentioned the position since she knew I was moving to Las Vegas, I went in for the interview a few weeks ago, and got a job offer on the spot.
Despite missing my close friends, my life is somehow…perfect. I want to pinch myself, just to make sure I’m not in the middle of a dream.