Game For Love: All The Right Moves (Kindle Worlds Novella) (6 page)

She glanced down at the dirt-covered dog and frowned. “You’ve been so good. I don’t know why you’d do this to me.”

Bluebelle hung her head, and Ashley’s heart flipped. While she was upset, she couldn’t stay pissed over things that could be fixed. Bluebelle hadn’t actually hurt anyone.

The doorbell rang
.

S
he dusted her hands off on her formerly pristine white capri pants. The matching boat-neck, blue-and-white striped shirt hadn’t fared much better. Her hair half hung in her face, and she was sweating, instead of glistening like a proper southern woman should.

An ominous crack made her win
ce, and then hop the rest of the way to the door. She answered it, half stooped over and clutching at the broken heel of her shoe, and found Ryan on the other side.

One part of her practically melted
, while the other wanted to hobble off in the other direction because looking like what the dog dragged around the yard was not her idea of how to answer the door.

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

She almost hugged him right then and there for not commenting on her appearance. Instead, she shoved her hair out of her face and said, “Everything.”

“First things first. Do you have any crazy glue?” He stepped inside, closed the door, and then helped her to the couch.

“In my office. There’s a box marked art supplies.” Why in the world would he need her crazy glue? Did Ryan think he could glue her cushions back together?

“
Stay right there.” He strode away, down her hall.

She heard him rummaging around
. When he returned less than a minute later, with the glue in his hand, she couldn’t help but ask, “What are you going to do with that?”

He knelt
on the floor and took her shoe. “This.” He squirted glue on the heel and held it firmly against the bottom. “In a few minutes, this very sexy shoe will be as good as new,” he said with a wink.

“Where did you learn to do that?”
Oh geez, if she wasn’t falling for him before, she really was now. First, the donation, and now he was repairing one of her favorite heels.

“Four sisters, remember?” His gaze raked over her. “The
glue won’t help those dirt stains. Sorry.”

Giving him
a lopsided smile, she cupped the side of his face. “I’m already feeling better.”

“
I hear good-as-new shoes tend to do that to women.” His dark eyes met her, and lashes longer and thicker than any man had a right to have slowly blinked. Gosh, she could stare at him for days.

“Especially this woman. Shoes are one of my weaknesses.” So was he. Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
He had soft, full lips that could turn wicked and sensual… and drive her insane.

“You keep looking at me like that, and we won’t get a damn thing done, sweetness,” he said
, and she started, dropping her hand.

Her cheeks
heated, as she lifted a shoulder and bit her lip. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I like looking at you.”

The
corner of his mouth kicked up, and he stood. “Okay if I put this on your kitchen counter?”

She nodded and took off her other shoe. “C’mon, I’ll show you the
backyard.”

“Is that where
Bluebelle’s hiding?” he asked as he moved to the kitchen.

Ashley followed a moment later. “She’s in
time-out.”

“
You’re not grounding her from her play date with Gunner, are you?” he asked.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” she joked.

He cast a look over one of his broad shoulders, and then turned to face her. “You’d just be punishing yourself.”

She crossed her arms and tilted her chin up. “Just myself?”

Ryan moved closer, settling his hands on her hips. Despite having a large kitchen, it felt tiny with him in it. Or maybe it was his presence that took up so much room. His head dipped, and her chest rose and fell.

He was going to kiss her again. She
wanted him to kiss her again. The air between them became shared, and she breathed in the masculine scent from him. His hair was slightly damp, and his cheeks were smooth.

Ryan turned his head slightly, so that his breath pulsed against her ear and jaw. She shivered. This was pure, delicious torture.

“Nah, Gunner wouldn’t be too happy.” Slowly, his lips grazed her cheek, his nose following the path. Once more, his hot breath was on her, and she felt him nibble on the lobe of her ear. “Show me the backyard,” he whispered roughly.

She blinked. “What?”

He stepped back, the color along his cheeks high and his nostrils flaring. “I came here to help you.”

Ryan was right. He had showed up to help her, not put an end to her draught, or change her mind about football players. Although, he was doing a great job.

With a sniff, she let out a huff and brushed past him. “Right this way, Mr. Tight End.”

After a quick trip to the local lawn and garden supply store to buy more topsoil, flowers, and cushions, they worked together in her backyard.

She had changed, and was cur
rently elbow deep in her flowerbed, while Ryan shoveled in topsoil.

His dark shadow fell over her, and she looked up.
Her mouth fell open, and the small shovel dropped with a thunk. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips. She eyed the eight-pack that glistened in the sun, and the smattering of dark hair that covered his muscular chest and his equally muscular arms. Most lickable of all was the tattoo of an anchor on his hip.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

“Why don’t you get a shower and change before it gets too late? I’ll finish this up for you,” he said, holding out his hand.

She almost knocked it out the way because the darn thing obstructed her view. But common sense told her to take it. They’d been working for
hours, and she had to get ready to host.

Taking his hand, she let him help her up. He brushed a finger down her nose. “You have dirt everywhere.”

She wiped at his chest, pleased to see his stomach suck in. “So do you.”

“
Shower.”

Taking
a chance, she drew in a deep breath. “You could join me. I need some helping washing my back.”

His eyes went wide
but, before she could get too excited, he was saying, “Ashley, I meant what I said earlier; I’m here to help. You don’t owe me anything.”

Embarrassment and anger collided, causing her to lash out. “I know what you’re here for! You’re here to make sure your dog can see his girlfriend and to ease
your
conscience about blackmailing me into going out with you. So, thanks for saving me, once again, from making a big mistake.”

Angry tears springing to her eyes,
she stormed inside the house and slammed the door behind her.

Seething inside,
Ryan finished planting the last of the flowers and placed all the supplies in the storage shed. He wasn’t mad at Ashley. He was mad at himself. It was like he couldn’t help the dumbass things that came out of his mouth, all in the name of putting her first.

Bluebelle trotted up to him from her spot in the shade and licked his hand. With a smile, he knelt down to rub her neck.

“How ya doing, girl?” he asked. “Thirsty?”

The dog wagged her tail. He led her inside, filling up her bowl with more fresh water and setting it on the floor.

He could hear the shower running
and could imagine Ashley in it, her hot little body all soapy and wet. He could picture the suds running down her neck and over her breasts to drip from her nipples.

Groaning, he be
nt over the counter and tried to get his shit together.

She was right. He was trying to ease his conscience about blackmailing her. No matter what she said to him, all he could think of was how he got her to go out with him in the first place.

Yet, she’d forgiven him of all that. She’d practically thrown herself at him, when he knew how much she didn’t trust football players. Dean had done a number on her, yet she had taken a chance on him.

He rubbed a
hand over the back of his neck, and then straightened, cursing himself for a fool.

Ashley was a woman with her own mind. She’d invited him to join her in the shower. And by God, he would join her.

He jogged down the hallway to her bedroom, opening the bathroom door. Steam billowed, but he could clearly see her through the glass shower.

“Rya
n?” Ashley asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he said, stripping down to his bare ass. He opened the door. “Still need someone to wash your back?”

Visibly swallowing, her gaze ran the length of him, pausing more than once at his cock. He grabbed it, his mouth quirking at the corner, and stroked himself.

“See anything you like?”

Grabbing him by the arm, she pulled him inside the shower and shut the door. “Keep doing that,” she murmured.

Squeezing
it, he let his head fall back on a groan. “You like watching?”

“I like participating,” was all she said
, before dropping to her knees and wrapping her hot mouth around the tip.

He growled a curse
, letting go of his dick and shoving his hands into her wet hair, careful not to hurt her.

She let the tip fall out
but, before he could voice his protest, she’d taken him in her mouth again. This time, she’d swallowed half his length.

“Can you take more, sweetness?” he asked.

Dark blue eyes gazed up at him. Pink lips were wrapped around him. He was going to die right then and there.

“You can do it.” He carefully thrust his hips forward. “For me, baby.”

Her eyes closed as she pulled back, sliding forward again. Over and over she did this, until she nearly swallowed his cock. He fisted his hands in her hair, gauging her reaction before he started pumping into her mouth.

If she didn’t like it, if she made any little sound that remotely sounded like pain, then he would stop.

He widened his stance, the suction of her hot, wet mouth making his legs shake. Her tongue got in on the action and, every now and then, she’d lick the entire length of him.

“Doing good, baby.”

She cupped his balls, and he let out a hoarse shout. She worked him over like no one ever had before with her talented mouth and hands. Only years of training and forced delayed gratification kept him from exploding in her mouth.

“G
onna come,” he grunted, trying to pull away.

She dug her hands into his ass and stayed with him
.

Until the end.

Ashley stood, a Cheshire grin on her face. “Ready to wash my back now?”

“I’ll wash any damn thing you want.”
He soaped up her back, her sweet little ass, and perky breasts. And when he was finished rinsing her off, he got on his knees and made good on his promise to put his mouth between her thighs.

She screamed his name so loud that Bluebel
le came running to check on them.

“Tell her you’re okay,” he ordered, kissing his way up her stomach to her breasts. She had nice nipples. Pale pink and perfect for his mouth.

He rolled his tongue around one.

“I-I’m ffff-fine, Bluebelle,” she managed to say.

“That’s a good girl.” He sucked the tight little bud into his mouth and then paid attention to the other one. “Perfect, Ashley. Perfect.”

Her hands tunneled through his hair, holding him close. “You’re too good to be true,” she said softly.

They stayed in the shower until the water ran cold
and her lips felt like they were turning blue.

Ryan wrapped her up in a towel and rubbed his hands briskly up and down her arms.
Kissing her nose, he said, “Yard’s done.”

So was she. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. “Thank you.”

He glanced at the clock on her cell. “You have exactly fifty-three minutes to finish getting ready.”

She let out a squeal. “Oh crap. I have to finish decorating my dining room table and setting out the food.”

“Want me to take care of that?” he asked, his dark eyes serious as he pulled on his sweatpants—sans boxer briefs.

“
No… you’ve already done enough,” she said, suddenly feeling shy.

“Are we still on for Friday?”

She tilted her head to one side. “Did you do all that in the shower, just so I’d be more agreeable to let Bluebelle and Gunner play?”

“No ma’am,” he said in slow drawl that gave her goose bumps. “I did that to hear you scream my name.”

Her cheeks heated. “Well, then. Bluebelle and I would be delighted to join y’all.”