Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. We never had this conversation. Enjoy your night.” He waved and stalked off, leaving me even more confused.
Hefting my bag up higher on my shoulder, I moseyed to the elevator and pressed the button for the twentieth floor. A letter appeared on the screen, and I looked up to find the corresponding lift. Once it arrived, I stepped in and looked around, assuming at least one of my other teammates waiting around would be headed to the same floor. But no one moved in my direction, and the doors slid shut. When the car slowed to a stop and opened, I walked out into a typical hotel hallway. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but everything looked normal. Shaking my head at myself, I padded over the thick carpet to the room at the end of the hall. Above the numbers were the words, “Peony Suite.” I sighed like the lovesick fool that I was. Peonies were Finley’s favorite flower.
Removing the card from the little envelope, I tapped it against the card reader, and it flashed green before I heard the click of the lock disengaging. I pushed open the door into a little entryway and frowned when I saw the lights on. What the fuck?
Why had Brady sent me to this room if someone was already staying there?
“Hello?” I called as I entered. “I think I have the wrong room, but—”
“You definitely have the right room.”
I froze, my pulse skyrocketing, even though I was sure my ears were deceiving me. It couldn’t be. Could it?
My bag dropped to the floor, and I hurried into the living room area of the suite and stopped dead in my tracks.
“Please be real,” I croaked as I stared at what appeared to be my Finley, standing in front of a bank of glass windows that looked out over the city, wearing a sexy as fuck, lacy black teddy. I swallowed hard as my eyes scanned her from the blond pile of hair on her head, to the cups of the lingerie that looked as if they could barely contain her tits, the lace covering her stomach, the strip of fabric that disappeared between her legs, the garters that held up silky, black thigh-highs, and her black, stiletto, fuck-me heels.
“Surprise,” she said with a husky laugh. “I’m very real. Why don’t you come over here and feel for yourself?”
She didn’t have to ask me twice. This was even better than the deal she’d just agreed to in our texts.
When I reached her, I’d already shed my coat, jacket, tie, and shirt. “What are you doing here?” I asked incredulously. Then I shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t care. You can tell me after.”
Finley giggled and put her hands on her waist, cocking out one hip. “After?”
The movement caused her legs to part a little, and I almost choked when I saw the strip of fabric covering her pussy pull slightly apart. Holy motherfucking hell. There was a slit for easy access.
“After,” I confirmed before I tugged her into my arms and slammed my mouth down onto hers.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” I murmured while I doodled with my finger on Finley’s back. We were cuddled up in bed after I’d fucked her twice, once in the lingerie and once out, then made love to her soft and slow.
She raised her head and crossed her arms over my chest, resting her chin on them. “I wanted to support you. Since Uncle Lennox is at home with Brie, I thought this would be the perfect game to come to. I can wear your number, and Brady brought Talia, so we’ll be cheering you on from the visitor section.” She grinned, clearly proud of herself. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull this off without you figuring it out, so I went to Talia for help. And your face when you walked in here…completely worth it.”
“You can surprise me like that anytime, baby,” I quipped with a wink. Then I sobered as I thought about the rest of her plan. “What about the press?”
She shrugged. “Why would they care about some random woman in the stands?”
“Baby, have you seen all the shit circling that singer and the other football player?”
“Yeah, but they are both famous. No one will care about me.”
“First of all,” I said in a firm tone, “I care about you, but that’s not the point. You’re the niece of a billionaire who happens to be the boss of the famous football player you’re dating. Trust me. It will blow up. If they catch wind of us, and remember, you’ll be with the wife of one of my teammates, Lennox will find out on social media. I don’t want it to happen that way, baby. He needs to hear it from me. I owe him that.”