“What?” I release a startled laugh. “Absolutely not. I will suffocate you.”
“Sweetheart, death by pussy is the only way I plan on going, so get over here. If I don’t make you come at least twice before my game tonight, I don’t think we’ll win.”
Playfully rolling my eyes, I contemplate for a moment before an excited smile takes over. “If this is your form of punishment, remind me to piss you off more often.” I get naked and quickly climb over him, my knees on either side of his head as I use the wall in front of me to steady myself, allowing me to hover over him.
“I love when you piss me off, and I said sit. Not hover.” He pulls my hips down, his mouth finding my clit. His talented tongue works its magic and the only thought that flows through my mind is, how the hell did I get so lucky?
32
STEVIE
Zee （Daddy） Zanders: I grabbed your bag, and I’m parked around the corner.
Me: I told you that you don’t have to wait for me. Indy can drive me home.
Zee （Daddy） Zanders: I’m the sexy one in the Benz. See you when you’re done.
“Ready to go?” Indy grabs her flight bag as I follow her down the aisle of the empty airplane. We give the pilots a wave goodbye before descending the stairs and taking off towards the parking lot at O’Hare International airport in Chicago.
“Actually, I figured out a ride. But thank you. I’m sure Alex is stoked that you’re coming home early.”
“I can’t wait to see him.” Indy’s eyes sparkle with mischief.
“I shouldn’t expect to hear from you until our next road trip, huh?”
“Exactly.” She shoots me a knowing wink as we walk to her car. “This is me. You’re sure you’re good?”
“Yep. My ride will be here in a minute,” I lie.
I offer Indy a wave as she drives out of the parking lot before I sneak around the corner to the empty players’ lot where a blacked-out Mercedes G-Wagon is parked. Zanders leans against the driver’s side door, hands in his suit pant pockets, and one ankle casually crossed over the other.
“You following me?” the defenseman asks from across the lot.
“Yes. You didn’t have to wait for me to finish cleaning up. All your teammates left over an hour ago.”
“I’m either going to be waiting for you here or at home, so may as well give you a ride while I’m at it.” Zanders snakes his arm around my waist, his palm finding my ass as he pulls me into his chest. “Besides, your ass was tempting me that entire flight in this tight little skirt, and I didn’t want to give you the chance to take it off before I got to see you.” He gives me a smack and a squeeze as he bends down and presses his lips to mine.
Leading me around the hood of his car, he opens the passenger side door, ushering me inside.
“Well, thank you. Ryan was excited to pick me up because we’re both finally off this weekend, but since our flight got moved up, he’s still in the fourth quarter of his game.”
Zanders buckles his seat belt and starts the engine before his palm engulfs my thigh, holding me while he drives. “Even more reason for me to take you home. It’s my only time with you all weekend. Just going to be Rosie girl and me.”
He gives me his saddest, most guilt-trip-filled eyes, and I can’t help but laugh. “I was with you all week. You snuck me in and out of your hotel room in every city.”
“And?”
“And you can go forty-eight hours without me.”
Zanders scoffs as if that’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.
Mr. Unattached has really turned into Mr. Needy these past few weeks.
Right outside the airport, he pulls off to the side of the dark road before killing the engine.
He turns my way, his expression sifting, getting all soft. “This is my favorite year on the road.”
My heart beats a little faster, knowing there’s way more meaning behind those words.
“I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you at home and when I travel,” he continues, squeezing my thigh.
I lean back on the headrest, loving this new side to him.
“And one day, because of you, I’ll get to join the mile-high club.”
Okay, there he is.
I fall forward in laughter. “Ahh, I see. That’s the only reason you wanted to get with me, huh?”
“Exactly.” He smiles.
I place my hand on his, intertwining our ring-covered fingers. “The mile-high club is actually pretty inaccurate. When we fly, we’re more like seven miles in the air, not just one.”