“Candy, Olivia,” Garrett prods me. “What’s your favorite?”
“M&M’s…peanut,” I say distractedly.
“I like those too,” he says quietly. “They’re chocolaty and nutty. But then again, so is Snickers, plus it has extra gooey stuff in there.”
“You’re a dork,” I say with a stupid smile on my face that he can’t see. I don’t want him to see exactly how interesting and funny I find him to be. Instead, I change the subject up a bit, because I have curiosities. “So, what exactly do you do in your preseason practices?”
Garrett pushes out from underneath my body and rolls on his side to face me. We lie close, sharing the same pillow as we look at each other. “We’re divided into two groups…A and B, so that there can be more individualized attention and observation from the coaches. We basically do drills for about two hours and the coaches evaluate us. Some are to test our skills, others to help start getting us back into shape. Tomorrow we’ll actually have a short scrimmage game…probably only about forty-five minutes long. We’ll do that this week and next, then the coaches will start to make decisions on who will be released from the team.”
“So, not everyone will make the team?”
“Nope. Some will go down to the minors, others won’t be going anywhere.”
“I’m assuming you’ll make the team?” I ask him with a grin.
He reaches out and taps his finger on the end of my nose. “You’re cute. Funny and cute, and maybe a little bit bad. Maybe I should spank you.”
“Try it and you’ll have a fight on your hands,” I warn him, although the idea of him spanking me causes a thrill of desire to rush through my veins.
“Maybe some other time,” he says dismissively. “But more important…favorite movie?”
“You’re so weird,” I tell him honestly. “You’re totally blowing this whole man-whore vibe you had going at the party the night I met you.”
“Because I want to know your favorite movie?” he asks, his eyes all wide and confused. “I mean…I ask every woman I bring home what her favorite movie is. That is…after I find out her favorite candy.”
“And I’m guessing that’s a lot of movies and candy choices to keep track of,” I say jokingly, although part of me is curious over just how prolific of a lover Garrett is.
Garrett’s smile slides a little and his eyes are solemn with truth. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought to my house before. Ever.”
For the first time since I met Garrett three days ago, I feel an unease settle in my bones that has nothing to do with cancer. What I thought was nothing more than me taking an opportunity to have a last hurrah before I began my treatments, and Garrett taking an opportunity to make another notch in his bedpost, suddenly seems like a little bit more. Knowing that I’m the only woman he’s ever brought here gives me a sense of weird elation, and yet I’m scared, because this isn’t supposed to be anything more than a casual fling.
I don’t know what to say to Garrett. I’m flattered…in fact, a little giddy to know that he’s just admitted that he sees me as different from his other conquests. But I can’t let that feeling get away from me. I have to rein it in and maintain control, because there’s no way this can go anywhere past his bedroom tonight.
Given his lack of ability in having a monogamous relationship in the past, it would be foolish to let my heart become involved with someone like him. And given the fact that my life has gone in the shitter, it would be almost inhumane of me to let him try to pursue something with me. It would be cruel and futile, and it would put terrible expectations upon his broad shoulders.
So, I change the subject again. But not with words.
Sliding toward him on the bed, I press up against his body and nuzzle my way up under his chin. Flicking my tongue out, I touch his neck, then place an open-mouthed kiss there. He hums approval deep in his throat.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice all sexy-husky, and he knows damn well what I’m doing.
“Kissing you,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Trying to get me all hot and bothered again?” he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice while I press warm kisses down over his collarbone. His fingers trail down my back, over my butt, and his fingers start to press into me from behind.
So nice.
I reach a hand down and nudge at his cock. It’s already growing, and I start a slow, leisurely stroke while I kiss across his chest. “I’m thinking time talking about movies and candy is time wasted we could be doing this.”
“A woman who doesn’t enjoy pillow talk,” Garrett muses as his fingers flirt in between my legs. “Now, that sounds like a woman after my own heart.”
Those words should make the unease I had been feeling earlier dissipate, because that sounds like the cocky, playboy Garrett Samuelson that I’ve heard about. Not someone who wants to cuddle on the bed and tell each other secrets.
Yet I feel oddly sad…a little disappointed. Maybe I really am no different from the countless other women he’s been with. Maybe he brought me to his house to just show it off…although that doesn’t seem quite right either.
Abruptly, Garrett’s hand is gone and he’s sliding out from underneath of me.
“Get on your stomach,” he commands, and a thrill of excitement flows through me over the dominant tone in his voice. “I’ve been thinking of doing something to you all fucking day and looks like now is the time.”