Dirty Player: A Rough Riders Novel Read Online Free Page B
Author: Stacey Lynn
they wanted to do next, their thoughts about the upcoming preseason game.
I wasn’t involved in most of the conversations, so my eyes drifted along with my thoughts. Thoughts of a surly, rude tight end who had yet to appear. Disappointment uncurled in me and made me frown.
I didn’t want to see him, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about him either. The interaction earlier was more unpleasant than most I’d had in my life. Yet I couldn’t lie—along with probably millions of other women in the country, I had pictured Oliver starring in my fantasies at some point since he began in the NFL.
Admittedly, as soon as Beaux was traded, thoughts of meeting Powell were first in my mind.
Yet as much as I teased my brother about making out with his teammates, I wouldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of possible tension for him in the locker room or on the field. When he was playing, my job was to support him, not make it more difficult.
With a heavy sigh, I slid out of the booth.
Beaux’s gaze caught me with a questioning look.
“I’ll be right back. I just need some air.”
“And then a dance with me,” Kolby said, flashing me a wink.
The kid was cute. I could admit that, too. He was also harmless. Safe.
“You know? I think my restroom trip can wait. Want to?”
“Hell yeah. Sexy cougar woman in my arms? I’ll have to beat the men away from you.” He frowned, a teasing glint in his eye as he wiggled his fingers. “On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t. Can’t get these hands broken in a bar fight.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.” I turned to Beaux. “You mind?”
“Go kick back, Sis. You’ve earned it.”
I rolled to my toes and kissed his cheek while I waited for Kolby to slide out of the booth. He gripped my hand and led me down the stairs, pulling me behind him so we wouldn’t get separated in the crowd at the bottom. Halfway down the second flight, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
I paused, tugging my hand out of Kolby’s, and looked around. Seeing nothing, I shook off the strange sensation and hurried to catch up to my dance partner.
The music was louder on the dance floor, pulsing through my body and filling my veins with that instant need to move.
The song was fast and perfect, and as Kolby guided us to an area of the floor beneath the VIP area where we’d sat, he set his hands on my waist, pulling me to him until my hips were against his.
We would have had to shout to be heard, so we were silent while we moved, our bodies connected. It had been so long since I’d been out. Most days I felt too old for a bar scene—not that Patrick would have ever gone anyway. And if Patrick didn’t want to go somewhere, we rarely did.
I lost myself in my thoughts, my regrets, and the feel of warm and strong hands on my body as sweat began to bead at my neck.
The buzz of the alcohol beginning to dissipate as I lost myself in the music, it was just me and Kolby while he spun me in circles and we goofed around. We made funny faces and moved our bodies in time to the music.
We stayed there longer than the one song we’d agreed on, and it was at the end of the fourth when I finally needed a break. My toes hurt in my heels, and the strap of fabric across my back clung to my skin.
“I need a break!” I shouted, leaning into Kolby’s arms.
He wrapped them around me. “Wondering when the old woman was going to stop. Lasted longer than I thought you would.”
I shoved him playfully again and turned to walk off the dance floor, but when I went to take my first step, my feet froze in place.
Kolby bumped into me, pushing me forward, and before I could stumble, I was pulled into another set of strong arms.
“The next one’s mine.”
Chapter THREE
SHANNON
Electricity zinged up my arms and down my spine, straight to my toes where they curled inside my heels.
Powell was a force on the field. Running and catching, he could do it
I wasn’t involved in most of the conversations, so my eyes drifted along with my thoughts. Thoughts of a surly, rude tight end who had yet to appear. Disappointment uncurled in me and made me frown.
I didn’t want to see him, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about him either. The interaction earlier was more unpleasant than most I’d had in my life. Yet I couldn’t lie—along with probably millions of other women in the country, I had pictured Oliver starring in my fantasies at some point since he began in the NFL.
Admittedly, as soon as Beaux was traded, thoughts of meeting Powell were first in my mind.
Yet as much as I teased my brother about making out with his teammates, I wouldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of possible tension for him in the locker room or on the field. When he was playing, my job was to support him, not make it more difficult.
With a heavy sigh, I slid out of the booth.
Beaux’s gaze caught me with a questioning look.
“I’ll be right back. I just need some air.”
“And then a dance with me,” Kolby said, flashing me a wink.
The kid was cute. I could admit that, too. He was also harmless. Safe.
“You know? I think my restroom trip can wait. Want to?”
“Hell yeah. Sexy cougar woman in my arms? I’ll have to beat the men away from you.” He frowned, a teasing glint in his eye as he wiggled his fingers. “On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t. Can’t get these hands broken in a bar fight.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.” I turned to Beaux. “You mind?”
“Go kick back, Sis. You’ve earned it.”
I rolled to my toes and kissed his cheek while I waited for Kolby to slide out of the booth. He gripped my hand and led me down the stairs, pulling me behind him so we wouldn’t get separated in the crowd at the bottom. Halfway down the second flight, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
I paused, tugging my hand out of Kolby’s, and looked around. Seeing nothing, I shook off the strange sensation and hurried to catch up to my dance partner.
The music was louder on the dance floor, pulsing through my body and filling my veins with that instant need to move.
The song was fast and perfect, and as Kolby guided us to an area of the floor beneath the VIP area where we’d sat, he set his hands on my waist, pulling me to him until my hips were against his.
We would have had to shout to be heard, so we were silent while we moved, our bodies connected. It had been so long since I’d been out. Most days I felt too old for a bar scene—not that Patrick would have ever gone anyway. And if Patrick didn’t want to go somewhere, we rarely did.
I lost myself in my thoughts, my regrets, and the feel of warm and strong hands on my body as sweat began to bead at my neck.
The buzz of the alcohol beginning to dissipate as I lost myself in the music, it was just me and Kolby while he spun me in circles and we goofed around. We made funny faces and moved our bodies in time to the music.
We stayed there longer than the one song we’d agreed on, and it was at the end of the fourth when I finally needed a break. My toes hurt in my heels, and the strap of fabric across my back clung to my skin.
“I need a break!” I shouted, leaning into Kolby’s arms.
He wrapped them around me. “Wondering when the old woman was going to stop. Lasted longer than I thought you would.”
I shoved him playfully again and turned to walk off the dance floor, but when I went to take my first step, my feet froze in place.
Kolby bumped into me, pushing me forward, and before I could stumble, I was pulled into another set of strong arms.
“The next one’s mine.”
Chapter THREE
SHANNON
Electricity zinged up my arms and down my spine, straight to my toes where they curled inside my heels.
Powell was a force on the field. Running and catching, he could do it
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