Page 34 of Defending her Heart (Boston Revolutions Football #2)

K ENDALL

Warm heat engulfs me, and I’ve never felt so satiated and comfortable. I nestle into the wall of muscle behind me, and when a hard length pokes me in the ass, my eyes shoot open.

The fire is almost out and Nash’s house is mostly dark, except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. Shit. I fell asleep on his couch. Gentle snores and soft breaths across my neck tell me we fell asleep on his couch.

I’m naked. He’s fully clothed. And a thick blanket is wrapped around us. The events of the evening come flooding back. A fun dinner with Nash and Paisley. Playing games together. The two of us talking about nothing and everything.

And the orgasms. Two? Three? Four? They all blended into each other. And sex? Did we have sex?

This is why I’m here. For the sex. Not for family dinners or late-night talks. Or the cuddling. Or even the unreciprocated orgasms. One for one. Or at least two for one. That was the deal.

I can’t afford for this to happen again. My heart isn’t fully repaired. Even if I want to trust Nash and his intentions, I can’t help where my mind goes. Wondering. Worrying. Doubting.

There are two ways out of this tonight. Either I slip away, or I roll over and ride his cock. The first says I’m scared or a flight risk. The second says I’m here for the sex.

“You awake?” Nash’s arm tightens around my middle.

“Yeah. I’ve gotta get going.” Riding his cock will have to wait until next time.

“Stay?”

“I don’t think so.” I flip the blanket off us and drop to the floor, searching for my clothes.

Nash sits up while I get dressed. “Let me at least walk you to your car.”

Like the gentleman he is, he keeps his hand on my lower back and escorts me to my car. I don’t wait for it to warm up, afraid he’ll want to kiss me, but more afraid I’ll let him and not want to leave.

“Thanks for dinner and the orgasms,” I add. “I owe you.” I snap my seatbelt in place, close my door, and back out of the driveway.

I can’t let that happen again. Sleep. Cuddles. Intimacy.

My heart can’t handle it.