Playbook (The Holland Brothers 2)

“Tonight was perfect.” My sister’s eyes are barely open as she leans forward to hug me. “I love you so much. You’re the best big sis ever.”

“I love you too,” I say, laughing softly. I think this is the drunkest I’ve ever seen my baby sister. “Take some Advil before you go to bed and call me in the morning. We can grab coffee or something if you feel up to it.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” She pulls back and stumbles into her fiancé. He’s not nearly as bad off as her, and I’m thankful she has someone to look after her.

They start up the sidewalk to their apartment and I turn to face Brogan. The limo is still idling at the curb and it’s just the two of us.

“So…” he says with a wicked grin. “Wanna have a sleepover?”

We go back to my place because it’s closer. There’s an awkward moment as soon as we step into the dark, silent apartment.

“Alec is visiting his parents in Tucson this weekend,” I say, in case he doesn’t realize that we are alone all night.

“Good.” He gets a devilish glint in his eye. “We don’t have to worry about being quiet.”

Brogan scoops me up and carries me to my bedroom. He leaves the door open and sets me on the bed. The way he looks at me makes my skin tingle and my pulse race. He has this way of making me feel like the most special person in the world.

I thought I got it when I first met him—the charisma, the good looks, it all made sense why women and just people in general flock to him. He is still all those things. He’s funny and goofy and so hot that it takes my breath away, but it’s also the way he makes others feel. The way he makes me feel. He drowns out the noise and all the critical things I’ve heard or thought.

He undresses me like it’s a sacred act, kissing me and telling me how beautiful I am. I answer in moans and murmurs. When I’m naked beneath him, he takes me in with a low growl of approval.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the whole world.” His fingers graze tenderly down my side.

Taking off his clothes is a much more frantic endeavor. I loop my arms around his back and clutch him to me. The head of his dick nudges my entrance and I still, then push down onto him.

“One sec, sweetheart. I need to get a condom.”

I don’t release him. “It’s okay. I’m on birth control and I haven’t been with anyone but you since the last time I was at the doctor.”

His brows pinch together like he’s not certain.

“I mean if it’s okay with you,” I add.

“I was tested right after we started this arrangement. I’m good and I haven’t been with anyone else. You trust me?”

There’s something in his voice, like he still isn’t sure it’s a good idea.

“We don’t have to. I have condoms.” I move to roll off the bed, but he stops me.

“No, I want to. God, do I want to. I just can’t believe you’re real sometimes.” He grins. “You’re more than I deserve.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is, but I’m gonna do my best to make it up to you with multiple orgasms.” He pushes into me slowly. My eyes close and my body tenses as he fills me. He’s big and thick and the sensation of him inside me with no barrier is so good that I already feel like I’m on the brink of coming.

He takes both of my hands in one of his and holds them over my head, pinned against the mattress as he thrusts in and out. Our mouths are inches apart. His ragged breaths mix with mine as he fucks me hard and fast.

“Sweetheart,” he grits out. “Fuck, London.”

My name on his lips in such a tortured tone sends me over the edge. It’s too fast. I don’t want it to be over.

I’m still coming down from the high of it when he flips me over. He wraps one hand around my stomach to hold me up as he takes me from behind. I cry out again, another orgasm building on the brink of the last. His lips graze my back, placing tender kisses as he slams into me. It’s so Brogan. Tender and passionate even when he’s destroying my body.

“Oh fuck,” he says, and then groans with his cock buried to the hilt. He pulls out and turns me back over. He sits back on the bed and then pulls me onto his lap. I love that he can never make up his mind which way he wants me. Sex with Brogan is an adventure.

“Ride my dick, sweetheart.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” I taunt. Or I try to. The eager way I scramble to impale myself on him probably doesn’t make it very believable.

We both still as I sit on him. He’s buried so deep, the walls of my pussy clenching around him. My heart hammers in my chest, and my skin is slick with a thin coat of sweat. My body is on fire.

“You feel too good,” I say as I slowly move.

“Like heaven.” His hands go to my hips. He doesn’t try to take over, but his fingers dig into my flesh as I glide up and down, gaining speed with each bounce.

I can tell he’s close, but trying to hold off, and that just makes me want to push him over the edge more. Watching him come undone is my favorite thing. This gorgeous guy, who could have any girl he wants, wants me.

My hands move to his shoulders and I push my tits out into his face. He wastes no time giving them attention. He takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks, then the other. I roll my hips and move faster. I don’t give him any chance to try to hold back. I fuck him until he’s too delirious with lust to worry about getting me off.

He comes with a growl that vibrates in his chest. One of his big hands moves down between us and his thumb circles over my clit, sending me careening into ecstasy right along with him.

After my three orgasms, we go to the kitchen to look for snacks. I’m sitting on the countertop, legs dangling and wearing only Brogan’s button-down shirt from earlier. He stands between my legs in his boxer briefs.

I grab another handful of grapes. He parts his lips and I bring two up and pop them into his mouth, then eat the other two myself.

“You’ve never had a pet…ever?” My brows lift in question. I don’t remember how we got on the topic at this point, but after I told Brogan about all the animals Sierra and I convinced our parents to get us growing up, he admitted he’d never had one.

“No.” He shakes his head and reaches over to the bowl for more grapes.

“What about a fish or a pet rock?”

One side of his mouth lifts into a smile. “Oh, wait. Once in third grade, I got to bring home the class hamster for a night.”

“That doesn’t count.”

We share a grin.

“Do you like animals?”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

“What’s your favorite animal?”

He thinks for a moment and while he does, he runs his palms up and down my thighs. “Pet animal or any?”

“Both.”

“Dog, probably. I like that you can train them to do cool stuff. But my favorite of all animals is probably a rabbit.”

“Rabbit,” I repeat. “Why?”

I expected him to say lion or cheetah or something big and strong. A rabbit??

“Yeah, they’re soft and fast and they have those big floppy ears.” He reads my surprised expression and adds, “And at Easter they bring all kinds of candy.”

I burst out laughing. The movement makes me tilt forward and I rest my head on his shoulder.

“Rabbits are awesome. Don’t laugh at my favorite animal.”

“No. I’m not,” I say, but I can’t seem to stop.

His hands move up under the shirt and he starts to tickle my sides. I’m not normally this ticklish, but my skin is oversensitive from the night and him and the giddy bubble that we seem to be floating inside.

His hands stop and flatten against my side and my laughter dies off. I look up at him into his dark eyes.

“You never stop surprising me,” I tell him.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“It’s very good. Never a dull moment.”

“Dull doesn’t sound so bad as long as you’re around.”

“Are you calling me dull?” I ask. I know he isn’t, but I just want to stretch out the moment.

“Definitely not.” He brushes his lips over mine in a quick kiss, then rests his forehead against mine. “But when you’re around, I don’t think I’d notice or care what was happening. I sort of lose track of everything else.”

My heart rate picks up speed and my lungs struggle to pull in air. “Yeah, me too.”

I know it’s the moment that I need to lay my cards on the table.

“I’m glad we’re doing this for real. Me and you, Saturday night out, and then going home together. It feels good and right and fun.”

He stares at me intently, but says nothing.

“I lose track of everything too. Or maybe I don’t, but I choose to ignore it because you’re the most amazing, kind, generous, and sexiest person in every room.”

“That’s a lot of adjectives.”

“And not the full list.” I want him to know that I can see how much more he is than he gives himself credit for. He feeds into the sexy, professional football player role like he’s hiding behind it. But he doesn’t need to.

“I think…” he starts, bringing a hand up to my face and stroking my cheek. I stop breathing as I wait for his response. “You might still be drunk.”

Disappointment settles in my gut. I’m not. I haven’t felt drunk since before we went to the club. And something about him blaming my feelings on booze makes me feel silly and small.

“I’m not,” I say. “Or maybe I am, but I still mean it.”

He studies me, then nods. “All right.”

I’m not exactly sure what he’s agreeing to until his lips curve into a smile. “Me and you, sweetheart. Let’s lose track of everything else together.”