18. Cam

CHAPTER 18

CAM

“ C am? I’m home!” The trill of Sloane’s voice carries through the quiet house, shooting edgy excitement through me. Blood immediately rushes down south and I shift, attempting to adjust myself in the mesh gym shorts. The thin fabric can’t hide my rock-hard cock, though, so I shove my hand in my pocket before sauntering out to the living room.

“Hey.” I pause in the doorway, taking in every inch of her body, from the high ponytail to the tight black tank top to the tiny denim shorts. She’s so effortlessly gorgeous, sunglasses perched on top of her head, hand on hip. I have no idea why any guy would even think of screwing around on her, let alone actually do it.

She smiles at me as I make my way over, drawn to her like a magnet. As soon as Sloane’s in the room, she’s all I see. Football, my career—all the anxiety and tension—is gone. It’s just the two of us and I’m back in a good headspace, a place where I can be my genuine self. None of the other bullshit matters .

Although I know I should resist temptation, I can’t help myself. We moved into a new space together last night, and there’s no going back now.

I lean down and press my lips to hers. The gesture feels surprisingly natural.

“Sorry for sneaking out on you this morning—I wanted to hit the weights before the gym bros showed up and hogged the equipment.”

“It’s okay.” She rises on tiptoe, weaving her arms around my neck. “You can make up for it now.”

“Deal. What did you have in mind?” I ask as my hands find their way down her back, sneaking around to cup her perfectly round ass.

“I have some stuff in my car. I could use some help carrying it around back.”

“No problem. Although I was kinda hoping to deliver a different sort of favor.”

The corners of her pink lips tip up as she unwinds from me. “I do like the sound of that—but it’ll have to wait until later. I have a surprise first. C’mon.”

Grabbing my hand, she pulls us both outside then hits the fob on her keychain. The Volvo beeps and the trunk lifts as we make our way down the driveway.

“I can get this.” Sloane leans into the trunk and hoists out a large rectangular box. “You grab the rest.”

I peer in at six mammoth bags of ice. “You throwing a party this afternoon?”

“Only for the two of us—no one else is invited. Follow me.” She pivots and heads around to the back yard. I grab two bags of the ice and trail behind her, admiring the view.

“Just drop the ice on the deck. I’ll get to work here.” Sloane crooks her thumb at the wooden deck and I do as I’m told, setting the giant bags down before heading back to fetch more. I make three trips while she busies herself in the yard.

“Is that an inflatable pool?” I ask, sidling up next to her. A large plastic aqua rectangle is spread out on the grass in the center of the lawn.

“Sure is. But today it’s not just a regular old pool. No, today it’s your cold plunge pool. That’s good for muscle recovery, right?”

A warmth spreads through my chest like gooey caramel. Sloane could have done anything she wanted this morning—gone to yoga, hit up Java Jolt for an iced coffee—but instead she went to Walmart and bought a blow-up pool and a bunch of ice to build me a makeshift cold plunge pool. She’s exactly how I remembered her—kind, thoughtful—but now she’s so much more. More confident, self-assured, sexy.

Don’t screw this up, Crawford. She’s special.

“Yes. It’s great. We had one in Chicago and I used it after every game and most workouts.”

“Perfect.” She flips her dark ponytail, then bends over to turn on the pump. My eyes rake over her body, the long line of her back, the slight indent of her hip bones peeking out from the sliver of exposed skin.

She pops a hand on her hip as the sides of the pool begin to fill up with air, rising and quickly taking shape.

“Thanks for doing this, Sloane.”

“Well, I did have an ulterior motive.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Really? And what’s that?”

She shoots me a mischievous grin. “Getting you out of your clothes, of course.”

“Trouble, all you had to do was ask.” I hitch my thumb into the back of my shirt, yanking the fabric up and over my head, balling it up and tossing it onto the deck. Sloane watches me intently, biting at the corner of her lip. I flex my abs for full effect, then kick off my shoes and socks. Finally, I slide my gym shorts down until I’m only wearing boxer briefs.

“I’ll leave my briefs on. Neighbors.” I tilt my head at the fence. “Don’t want to give anyone a scare.”

She giggles, two bright spots of pink staining her cheeks. “Right, sure. Can you grab the hose?”

“No problem.”

I head over to the side of the house and lift the green coil, carry it over to the pool. Handing the hose to Sloane, I jog back to turn on the water. Then I grab the first bag of ice and rip through the plastic, dumping the frigid contents into the water.

“Fill it all the way to the top, right?” she asks.

“Yep. As high as it can go.”

The surface of the pool’s dotted with tiny glaciers and I’m cold just thinking about climbing in.

She glances at me, then the pool, then back at me again, sizing up the situation. “Sorry, this is the largest pool they had at Walmart. Probably not as deep as you’re used to.”

I lock eyes with her. “It’s perfect.”

The tip of her tongue darts out, tracing along her full lip, and my heart races into overdrive. I haven’t been this keyed up over a woman in a very long time—maybe ever. And the fact that the woman in question is Sloane? Yeah, that scares the hell out of me.

“You ready?” Sloane interrupts my internal mini freakout.

“As I’ll ever be.” I roll my shoulders up and back, mentally preparing for the cold.

“How long do you stay in? You want me to time you?”

“Sure—usually around seven or eight minutes. ”

She pulls out her phone as I gingerly step into the pool, easing my body down into the icy water. The chill steals my breath as I sink deeper, trying to submerge the maximum amount of surface area. I lean back against the edge of the pool and focus on my breath, anything other than the pricking of the freezing water on my skin. Chunks of ice glob together and bob along the top of the pool, hitting against my bare arms and chest.

“How much time left?” I grit out the words.

She chuckles. “Seven minutes and thirty seconds, tough guy.”

I grimace. “Easy for you to say?—”

“Hey, it’s not all that great out here, either. I’m sweating.”

“I know how you could cool off.” I arch a brow, smirking.

She waves away my suggestion. “It’s okay, I’ll let you enjoy the cold plunge benefits solo.”

“Too bad. You could warm me up.” My teeth start chattering and I clamp my jaw harder, flexing and releasing my muscles. My breathing slows down as I give into the cold and relax a little.

“That’s kinda the opposite effect you’re going for, though. Think how rejuvenated you’re gonna be for practice this afternoon. It’ll be great—totally worth it!”

“Uh-huh.” I rest my head on the inflated pool edge and stare at her long, toned legs. Legs I’m itching to touch, smoothing my palms all the way up the insides of her thighs.

She checks the timer. “Three minutes left! Smile!”

I force a smile as she snaps a photo. “You should send that to your agent. He’ll be impressed with your commitment to training. He could use it in negotiations. ”

“Mm-hmm. Good idea.”

It’s cute, how hard she’s working to help me feel better about my current status. She’s so optimistic, so upbeat. Her positivity almost makes me forget how dire the situation really is, that there is no back-up plan.

Something I’d rather not dwell on at the moment.

“Your dad doesn’t come home for lunch, does he?”

“No, not usually. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Only thirty seconds left…twenty…ten.”

I silently count down in my head and then the alarm buzzes, the sharp sound ricocheting off the wood fence.

“Time’s up! You did it!” She silences the phone, beaming at me as I sit up, concentric waves arcing out around my biceps. The rays of the sun beat down on my icy shoulders and back, the sharp contrast of sensations raising chill bumps on my skin. A shiver races down my spine, everything tingling as I stand and climb out of the pool.

“How was that? Did it help?” Tiny wrinkles furrow Sloane’s otherwise smooth brow and she’s precious as hell, the cutest amateur trainer on the damn planet.

“Pretty nice, actually.”

“I know it’s not fancy, like you’re used to?—”

“It was great.” I shake my arms and legs, beads of water flying off my skin. “And the company was a lot better than Chicago.”

A flush colors her chest, creeping up her neck as I brush a loose tendril of hair away from her face. Wrapping my arms around her narrow hips, I pull her warm body up against mine. Water soaks through the thin cotton of her shirt, her nipples pebbling through the slip of fabric. Her hands wind around my back, fingers dancing across my traps, leaving behind a fiery wake.

She fits perfectly in my arms, our bodies pressed together. I lift her sunglasses from her face, ease her cell from the back pocket of her shorts, tossing both items onto the grass. Then I turn my attention back to her.

Dipping my head down, I brush my lips lightly against hers. She moans softly into my mouth and I swallow the sweet sound, suddenly starving.

I want to taste her, lick every last square inch of her body, lap at her juices until they coat my tongue. I want to touch her, caress her, pump my fingers into her tight pussy until she’s riding my hand, screaming for more. I want to sink into her, driving hard, pounding until I feel her muscles spasm around my hard cock and I explode inside her.

I want to make Sloane Carter mine. Right here, right now.

Kissing her harder and deeper, I lick at her mouth until she opens for me. I slide in, swirling around, increasing the force, the pressure. My hands move from her hips down to her ass and I squeeze the round globes. She shimmies up against my pelvis and blood flow starts to return, my cock twitching. Her fingers feather over my back, tracing the ridges of my lats, my deltoids, and all I can think about is her.

Not training, not football, not my career.

Just Sloane and how amazing it will be to fuck her.