Page 14 of Man to Man Coverage (Rangers Football: Hard-Hitting #6)

Rex

F eelings I can’t express run through me and make every nerve-ending tingle.

I’m happy, joyous, and so unbelievably grateful to have Devlin in my life.

With him, I feel like I’m finally home. He’s the kind of man I strive to be—sweet, caring, loving, open and honest—and he wants to give it all to me.

We walk through the lobby and into the elevator hand-in-hand.

It feels good.

It feels right.

And I want to give him all of me, just like he gives me all of him every day.

I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, but I was unsure how to approach it until now. With Devlin I need to be direct and honest with what I want and how I feel, just like I believe he would be with me.

We enter our room and I sit on the edge of the bed, watching as he takes off his coat and puts his phone on its charger. He kicks off his shoes and then brings his eyes over to me. “Is everything okay, babe?”

I pat the space next to me. “Come here.”

He sits next to me and I bring my knee up to face him. I wrap one hand around his forearm, and the other around his thigh, caressing him gently with a rhythmic swipe of my thumb. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Okay?” He frowns.

“I’ve spent my life feeling awkward about sex. With you, I not only enjoy the physicality, but I crave the intimacy you’re so good at.” I glance down at my hand on his arm. “I’m afraid I take more than I give to you.”

Devlin tilts my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. “What are you talking about, baby?”

“If I had more sexual experience, would you be so gentle or patient with me?”

“Am I gentle and patient? I feel like I’m constantly pawing at you.”

“I want to experience everything with you—” I lick my lips “—even the things I’ve never done before.”

His lips part, and he nods slowly. “I see.”

“Maybe we could try this weekend?”

He cups my face and kisses me with a tenderness that speaks of love and devotion. “Whatever you want, babe.”

T he next morning, we were blessed with a rare partially sunny day as we walked along the water's edge and through Pier 57. When we get back to Spring City that night, Devlin drops me off at my house and tells me to pack a bag for the weekend. This will be the first time I’ve been to his house, considering Aggie only moved out last week.

Saturday afternoon, I arrive at his home with a bag of groceries.

His house is beautiful. The exterior is slate stone and light gray stucco, the driveway is charcoal cobblestones, and there are wrought iron Juliet balconies adorning every French door.

His front double door is an architectural masterpiece of glass, metal, and shiny black wood.

The landscape is lush and meticulously maintained.

Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed driving my older Dodge truck onto his street, much less into his pristine garage. Maybe I should have bought that Mini Cooper after all.

“Hey, babe.” Devlin greets me with a kiss, wearing a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a tight anime T-shirt. How can he make such scrub wear look so damn enticing?

“This house is amazing.” I follow him inside, where it is a combination of white granite, chrome and stainless steel fixtures, and rich dark gray leather.

He shrugs. “I bought it like this. I think it’s nice, but sterile compared to your house. Who knows, I might have to hire your contractors to bring some warmth into this place. The only room I designed is my game room in the basement. Want to see?”

“Of course.” We put the groceries on the counter, and I follow him while he gives me a tour. Confronted with a full wall of glass-encased game pieces, most meticulously painted, I smile and shake my head. “You might be my king, but you are also king of the geeks.”

Devlin turns his body into mine, backing me up against a giant wood table. He presses the length of his body against my own, his hands wrapping around my hips as his lips hover over mine. “I’ll wear a crown if you want me to.”

“That might have to happen.” Chuckling, I rub my body against his. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved.” He waggles his brow and moans low in his throat.

“I meant for food.”

Rolling his eyes, he dramatically sighs and takes a step back. “I can eat.”

I brazenly take a step forward and cup him through his sweatpants, enjoying the flirty tease that used to be so foreign to me. “We have all weekend, right?”

He pushes his hips forward and sucks in his breath. “Yes, babe, we do.”

“Then let’s go eat.”

While Devlin’s kitchen is luxurious, I think I like my new kitchen more.

That might be because I know where everything is, or the pride associated with the recent remodel.

Devlin sits on one of the countertops and watches as I food prep, his long legs dangling over the edge, almost like a kid waiting to open his Christmas presents.

Speaking of which…

“If I come with you to Atlanta, I’m going to need help picking out presents for everyone,” I say while cutting chicken breasts into bite-sized chunks.

“There is no if, and you don’t have to buy my family presents.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his seltzer water. “Hell, I have no idea what to get Darren or Patrice. For my parents and the kids, well, I think it would be better if we gave them their presents as a couple.”

I don’t know why—I mean, I know how Devlin feels about me, he’s been very honest about it—but hearing him call us a couple makes me all misty-eyed. I put down my knife and walk between his splayed knees, leaning forward and planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “So, what are we getting them?”

He wraps his fingers around my head and holds me in place, slipping his tongue into my mouth to kiss me breathlessly. I moan as my entire body wakes up, heeding the call his lovingly erotic touch sends to me.

As soon as I melt into him, he pulls back enough to look me in the eye, his sparkling with mischief. “You are such a sweet man, you know that?”

“And you are a tease.”

His grin grows wide. “I love how you sink into me, baby.”

“I can’t help it. Your kisses are that good.” I push back from him and return to prepping our chicken stir-fry. “So? Presents?”

“Patrice took pity on me last year and created an online toy registry for the kids. You and I can look through it later and pick a few things for both of them.”

“And your parents?”

He sighs. “I usually buy my dad a bottle of scotch and sign my mother up for some kind of gift of the month thing. One year it was gourmet chocolate strawberries. Another year it was unusual international snacks. I was thinking this year I would donate to one of her favorite charities and maybe have a placard made in her name. It’s hard to buy presents for them. Whatever they want, they buy.”

“My best Christmas with my mom was when I was eleven. She’d taken on a third shift at the diner to scrape up extra money for presents, and on Christmas Eve took me to Walmart.

She had me pick out my favorite brand-name snacks—chips, cookies, and a six-pack of soda—as well as a movie bundle from the metal bin in the middle of the aisle.

Of course, she also bought me jeans, two pairs of sneakers, and a handful of graphic T's to get me through the rest of the school year. It wasn’t much, but that Christmas it thrilled me to have a fun night at home eating junk food and watching TV with my mom. ”

He bows his head. “I’m sure our Christmases were very different growing up.”

I snort and shake my head, immediately regretting the action rife with judgment. “Shit. I’m sorry, Devlin. I didn’t mean that. What I meant was we were both surrounded by love—which is the most important part.”

Devlin hops off the counter and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. He loves to hold me like this and I love having him do it. “Do you think your mom would have liked me?”

I glance over my shoulder. “She would have LOVED you.”

He rests his forehead between my shoulder blades and holds me for a minute, his touch infusing me with warmth. “Sometimes this feels like a dream, you know?”

I nod but say nothing as I’m still unsure how to verbalize all that I am feeling. It’s overwhelming.

He draws in a deep breath and then lets me go, smacking my ass before he walks out of the kitchen. “I’ll set the table.”

Two hours later, we are relaxing in his game room where he shows me his old DM notebooks and tells me some of the fascinating storylines he created over the years.

“You are very creative.”

He shrugs. “Darren and I used to tell each other stories and build on each other’s worlds. You know, there was a time our mother didn’t think it was safe for us to play football. She thought we had our heads too far in the clouds to protect ourselves.”

“Instead, you turned out to be the perfect combination of both—doer and dreamer.”

Devlin chuckles, sets his notebook down, and slides his hand on my thigh. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“Want to take a shower and then watch TV in bed?”

We haven’t talked any more about my awkward request from Thursday night, but I can’t help but wonder if this is it.

I’m both nervous and excited about crossing this final threshold.

I mean, I’m sure it’s not the final threshold.

No doubt there are all kinds of erotic things to do with your lover that I haven’t fathom doing, but I feel like penetration is the last of the average relationship list. Ever since the idea—or question of will we —popped into my head, I’ve felt a deep urge building in my belly.

While I want to feel him inside me, just as I crave the pleasure of sliding inside him, I’m more excited about the emotional connection I think sharing this with Devlin will mean to both of us.

This isn’t something I’ve fantasized about doing, but with him, I want everything.

I nod shyly. “Yes.”