Scoring Big, page 13
“What?” I stare in dismay, then sink down onto a chair at the table. “Why?”
He stares down at the table for a long moment, then mutters, “I have ADHD.”
“Oh.” I’m not shocked by this revelation. I noticed that he takes Concerta daily and I googled it, of course, because I’m a nosy know it all. I don’t know much about ADHD, but I do know it has nothing to do with intelligence. “Did that cause problems for you in school?”
“Oh hell, yeah. I always had a lot of energy, was always impulsive.”
“Hence the hammers on the trampoline,” I say dryly.
“Yeah. But it was more than just a lot of energy. I was always distracted. Couldn’t get organized. Didn’t get my homework done. And I constantly lost things—jackets, boots, hockey sticks, you name it. Drove my mom crazy.”
“Ah.”
“Even after I was diagnosed and started on medication, I never was very good at school.” He still doesn’t look at me. “Hockey probably saved my life. It gave me something to focus on and somewhere to focus my energy.”
My chest squeezes. “It’s good you had that.”
“Yeah. Sports actually help increase neurotransmitters in the brain. That helps reduce ADHD symptoms for a while, which helps with paying attention, staying on task, being less impulsive. And it helps with sleep. So that was a good thing for me.”
“That’s great.”
“Research is showing that symptoms of ADHD might even enhance athletic performance.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. Sports that involve quick movements and decision-making. For some reason I can focus on hockey. And all the practicing helped me learn to stay on task and cooperate with teammates. Being good at hockey helped with my self-confidence, when it got trashed because people thought I was stupid.”
Something tugs hard at my heart. “Oh, Nate.” I reach out and grab his hand.
I shouldn’t have done that.
I’ve been avoiding touching him for weeks now—staying out of his way, keeping my distance. Now I have his big hand under mine and there’s a flow of warm energy from him to me, coursing up my arm and through the rest of my body. I swallow.
“You’re not stupid,” I tell him again. I squeeze his hand. “From the first time I met you I thought how smart you are.” Now I’m remembering small things, though—his discomfort in the bookstore, the way he kept referring to my brain.
“I like to listen to audiobooks when I’m working out,” he says. “I like to learn stuff, but reading is hard for me.”
“That’s a great way to learn.”
“I don’t think I can help Quinn with her homework.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Daddy!” Quinn’s voice carries down the hall.
“Coming!” He stands. “Sorry to dump that on you.”
“Hey, it’s not a problem. I’m here if you want to talk more.”
His eyes meet mine. Heat shimmers around us, and I can’t look away. “Thanks,” he says gruffly, then turns and heads down the hall. He’s barely limping these days.
Oh boy. I sit and reflect on what I just learned. He’s obviously hard on himself about this, even though it’s a neurological condition that he can’t help. Thinking about the things he went through as a kid and how it impacted him makes my heart hurt.
He probably won’t come back and talk more. But still, I don’t go to my room, instead going into the living room, curling up on the sofa, and scrolling through my phone.
I’m surprised when I hear him say, “Night, pop tart.” And then he walks into the living room. I look up and smile. “All tucked in?”
“Yeah. Only a little stalling tonight.” He sits on the couch, too. “Thanks for all you’ve done to get her into a regular bedtime routine. It really helps with the stalling.”
My chest warms. “You’re welcome.”
“And thanks for listening to me earlier. And for being so non-judgmental.”
“I don’t think you have to thank me,” I say softly. “But I know people do judge things like that unfairly.”
He nods.
“Is that what the Concerta is for?”
“Yeah. I still take it. I stopped for a while once, but it made too big of a difference. I like feeling…clear. Like my mind is quiet.”
“Is it a problem for the league? That medication is a stimulant, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I have a medical exemption.”
“Ah. Okay. That’s good.”
“Also, thanks for being there to help with the homework. Maybe you should be the one to help her.”
“No.”
He chuckles. “Hey. What kind of employee are you? Isn’t that insubordination?”
“I guess I’m not a very good employee,” I reply. “I think you should help her. You can do it. Mostly, it’s just being there to keep her on track.”
“She seemed really distractable tonight. It worries me.”
I purse my lips. “She is going through a sort of trauma right now, with her mom being gone. It could be that.”
“True. We’ll keep an eye on it.”
We. I like that. Too much, dammit. Every day I get more and more merged into this small family. I try not to care. But I can’t help it. I just do.
Nate and I eye each other across the short distance between us. I take in his arms revealed by the short sleeves of his T-shirt hugging his biceps, his forearms sinewy and strong, his hands big and slightly rough. My gaze wanders over his throat, his jaw, the slide of his silky hair over his forehead. Those dark coffee eyes, liquid and warm, watching me back. Slow liquid heat drizzles through me and the air turns thick.
“Carly.”
“Yeah?” I whisper.
He closes his eyes. “I want you.”
I let out a long sigh. “Yeah. I want you, too.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I watch his chest rise and fall with his breathing. His fingers spread over the denim covering his big thighs. I want to crawl over there and lick his throat, breathe in his scent, curl up on his lap and feel those big hands on my body. On my bare skin. I want to know how aroused he is. My heart beats faster and I can hear it in my ears.
He opens his eyes. “It has to be you.”
I’m flooded with affection and gratitude for this man. I’ve never felt wanted and needed like this. He’s been patient and principled and honest. He’s a good man.
And I want him, too.
Why can’t we do this? Who will it hurt?
Well, potentially three of us, if things go wrong. My breasts lift with my quick, shallow breaths and I clasp my hands. The wanting is powerful and persuasive. The physical ache between my legs, the swelling of my breasts, the way my lips part hungrily all take control of my thoughts and convince me maybe we can do this.
I’ve never felt this intense need for someone. This pull is fierce, tugging at me, fluttering so hard in my chest I can feel it in my throat.
Maybe I’m weak, but I can’t resist any longer. Maybe it’s crazy, but right now I don’t care.
I move, sliding closer to him.
A flame flickers in his eyes and his mouth opens.
I cup his cheek and lean in to kiss that mouth. I remember it—his firm lips, his taste, his tongue gliding over my bottom lip.
A groan rumbles in his chest as our mouths meet. “Carly…”
“Yes.” I kiss one corner of his mouth, then the other.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I kiss him again and his hands grip my waist as he opens his mouth and deepens the kiss.
We make out on the couch, hands everywhere on each other, exploring, fondling, mouths sliding and licking and sucking. My need for him expands and intensifies with every kiss, every touch. I’m feverish and desperate, wet between my legs, my entire body pulsing and hot.
A noise from down the hall has us both springing apart. We stare into each other’s eyes for a split second, then I scramble back.
It’s Quinn, going into the bathroom.
Nate breathes fast, his face flushed. He rubs the heel of his hand over his forehead. “Jesus.”
“Not here. Not tonight.”
He eyebrows slope down and he looks like he just took a puck in a sensitive area.
“Tomorrow,” I whisper back, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Okay?”
He takes a breath. And another. “Okay.”
17
NATE
I slide a bowl of cereal over to my daughter just as Carly walks into the kitchen.
The air immediately goes hot and static.
She’s wearing a silky robe over…I don’t know what. Her hair is still tousled in a just fucked look, except…she hasn’t just been fucked. She will be, though. Soon.
Not soon enough. My skin prickles all over as she moves around me in the kitchen to get her coffee. I watch her pretty lips as she takes a sip and our eyes meet. It’s like fireworks just went off in the kitchen. And in my chest.
I turn away from her to focus on Quinn, who’s chatting about school and her friend’s new magic castle or something. She seems happy and back to normal after last night’s homework struggle.
“Do you have your form for the field trip?” I ask.
She nods and picks up her cereal bowl to drink the milk.
“Quinn,” Carly says gently. “That’s not good manners.”
Quinn sets it down, a milk moustache decorating her upper lip. “I know. I won’t do it in public.”
I roll my lips in on a smile.
Carly disappears to get dressed, emerging from her room in a pair of snug jeans and a sweater. We both take Quinn to school. The air in the car is electrified as we exchange hot looks. I’ve been wanting this for weeks, but after last night, I’m dying for Carly. It’s all I can do to control myself driving down Columbus. My dick is throbbing.
Back home, we ride the elevator in silence, not touching, and enter my apartment. The door closes behind us and it’s silent. Still.
Carly drops her purse on the table and turns to me. “I’m dying,” she whispers.
Thank you, Jesus. “Me too,” I groan.
And she launches herself at me. With a few fast steps she’s plastered against me, in my arms, our mouths fused.
Lust pumps through my veins, hot and urgent.
I lift her feet right off the floor and she wraps her legs around me, her arms around my head, and we kiss and kiss, wet, sloppy, dirty, desperate. The small whimpers falling from her lips turn me on even more, the feel of her tits pressed against my chest sending all my blood south. My dick swells painfully, the base of my spine aching.
I carry her down the hall to my room. I haven’t even made the bed. The blinds are still drawn.
“You shouldn’t carry me,” she gasps against my lips. “Your knee…heavy lifting.”
A laugh slips out of me at her being considered ‘heavy lifting’. “I’m fine.”
I lay her down on the bed among the rumpled sheets and kneel over her, propping myself on straight arms. “Still sure?”
I was afraid that with time and space between last night, she’d have come to her senses. Hell, I thought I’d come to my senses. But I haven’t. I still want this. I want her. More than any damn thing I’ve wanted for a long, long time.
“I’m sure.”
I study her face on the pillow—the color in her cheeks, the sparkle in those amazing green eyes, her tousled hair. I touch her mouth with my index finger and drag it down over her chin, her throat, down between her breasts into the opening of the shirt she’s wearing, a white cotton button-down.
Her lips part as she gazes back at me, those full, smooth lips that taste so sweet. “Are you?”
“Fuck, yeah.” I close my eyes briefly, every nerve ending in my body sizzling. “I know your worries about this, but we’re adults. We’ll act like adults.”
“Yes.”
“I want to be very, very adult with you.” I go back onto my knees and work open the top button of her shirt. Then the next. “I can’t wait to give you an orgasm.”
She shivers, eyes darkening. “It won’t take much. I’m so on edge I could come if you breathed on me.”
“I want to do that. Breathe on you. Breathe you in. Lick you.”
She whimpers.
Her shirt is open now and I part the sides to reveal a lacy bra cupping soft, round curves. I nearly choke on lust as I trail my fingertip down between them, then down her abdomen to the waistband of her jeans. I flick another button open and draw the zipper down.
“Take off your shirt,” she breathlessly orders me. “I need to see you again. Touch you.”
“Hell yeah.” I reach behind my head and tug my long-sleeved tee off, tossing it aside. Her hands immediately land on my pecs, and fuuuuuuck that feels good. She rubs firmly and my dick goes impossibly harder. Electricity sparks over my skin.
Curving a hand around the back of my neck, she pulls me down for another kiss and Christ, the feel of her skin against mine wipes my mind blank. I’m just instinct and hunger, devouring her mouth, moving against her, rolling her on top of me and sliding my hands inside her jeans to cup her ass.
She’s just as frantic, writhing and rubbing her tits on me, pushing into me with her hips, grabbing at me.
“You want more?” I whisper against her jaw. “What turns you on?”
“You do.”’
“Mmm.” I suck the soft skin of her neck. “Tell me exactly. This?”
“Yes,” she gasps.
“This?” I use my teeth, so gently.
“Yes…”
I roll her to her back again and kiss her collarbone.
“Suck my nipples,” she begs. “I love that.”
“Yeah.” I tug the thin cup of her bra down to bare her breast. I stare for a moment, lost in visual pleasure, then bend my head and slide my tongue over the hard tip. “Oh yeah.”
“Yes…do that.”
“Mmmm.” I lick and tease, then close my lips over her nipple and suck.
She nearly lifts off the bed, one hand tangled in my hair. “Oh God!”
I nibble and suck, move to the other breast and do the same. I lick around the curves, take soft bites of her plump flesh, and she twists and wriggles beneath me.
“I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”
My dick leaps enthusiastically.
I work her jeans and panties off and she lifts to take off her bra. Then I flick open the button of my jeans and draw down the zipper.
Her eyes follow my movements. “I want to touch you. I need to.”
I shove jeans and underwear down and my cock springs up, thick and ready. Definitely ready. Almost too ready. “We need to slow things down, sweetheart.”
“Why? We have all day.”
Hmm. She’s right. “There’s so much I want to do to you. It’s going to take all day. It’s going to take forfuckingever.”
She whimpers and closes her fingers around my dick, gently squeezing, then stroking.
I let out a long groan. “Yeah. Like that.” I watch her hand on me, so dirty and beautiful, my cock rudely hard and dripping. She circles her thumb over the tip and looks up at me. Our gazes collide in a burst of sparks and my chest fills with heat.
“I want to fuck you so hard,” I rumble. “Right now.”
“Do it.”
I slip my hand between her thighs to explore. I want to take it slower and savor it, but I can’t, we’re both so primed we’re about to explode. “Nice and wet. Are you ready, gorgeous? Are you aching for me?”
“I’ve been aching for you since last night.”
“Aw fuck, baby. Let me grab something.”
I lean over and grab a condom from the nightstand, and quickly roll it on.
“That’s so hot,” she whispers, watching me. “Put it inside me, please, please…”
Her words ignite a fire inside me and I knee her legs apart, exposing her to me. “So pretty, Carly.” I stroke the soft outer lips, brush over her clit, and she jerks. “So pink and ready for me.”
I take myself in hand, slick the head of my cock up and down through her wetness, and notch it at her entrance. I pause and our eyes meet again. It’s not the first time for us, but it feels special. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“I know.” Her eyes are glossy. “Me too.”
I push into her, slowly, carefully. She’s so tight, closing around me, holding me tight along the full length of my shaft and it’s magnificent. Sensation pours through me in violent waves. I move over her with straight arms again, watching her face as she takes me, deeper, all the way.
“Oh my God. Yes. Keep going.”
My smile is tight with restraint as I try to control myself, fucking into her in heavy strokes, harder, bouncing the bed. She holds onto my arms, her gaze fastened on mine, joining us in a way that’s more than just my cock inside her. Then she slips a hand down her body and finds her clit, circling it with her fingertips, brushing against my dick, making my blood run so hot I’m burning up. “Yeah. Do that.”
“I’m so close. So close…Nate…” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and her eyelids drift down.
“Eyes on me, gorgeous.”
She blinks open and stares, the green irises hazy, and then she comes with a long wail, squeezing me, rippling around me, and I lose it. I pound into her, teeth gritted, jaw tight, and I shout too as I come, spilling into the condom in hard pulses that are nearly painful. I groan and groan and fall over her, trying to protect her from my weight, and she wraps arms and legs around me again. We stay like that for long moment, breathing hard, hearts pounding. Still hard, I rock my hips to slowly withdraw, then slide in again. And again.
“I’m sorry,” I finally manage to say. “That was faster than a lizard on hot asphalt.”
She chokes on a laugh, tries to stop, then giggles helplessly. This squeezes me again. I start laughing too, slipping out of her, and I roll to the side with her in my arms, both of us laughing. Then Carly laughs so hard she snorts.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, burying her face in the side of my neck. “I’m sorry!”
I laugh even harder. “It’s cute.”
