Dating the Defensive Back (The Nash Brothers Book 1)

He Wants to Have Sex. Again. With Me.

He pulls his fingers out of me, and a long, deep, satisfied sigh escapes me as he slips my panties back into place. Once the waves of pleasure have waned, I finally sit up and open my eyes to find his. His normally bright blue eyes are black as night with lust, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a hotter sight in my twenty-five years on this Earth.

It’s Grayson Nash. It’s still absolutely surreal to me that he’s any part of my life at all, and now he’s admitted he has feelings for me that he can no longer deny.

It’s like in the recesses of my mind, of course this was going to happen. It makes perfect sense. We were always destined to end up right here.

But I still can’t believe it’s actually happening.

It’s a literal dream come true. He is a literal dream come true, and whatever that crush was has definitely found its way to something deeper, something real, something terrifying. Something mutual. Something perfect.

He lifts to a stand, and I tip my chin up. His lips find mine, and he kisses me again in that way he has—it’s slow and tender and beautiful, and at the same time it’s deep and urgent and needy.

I want to…return the favor, but I also am not fully sure I can move right now since my entire body feels like very satisfied Jell-O.

Oh, and condoms.

He said he wants condoms.

He wants to have sex. Again. With me.

My brain might be malfunctioning a little at the thought of it.

I force myself to pull back. “Do, uh…do you want me to…?”

Pull it together, Ava. Stop being so awkward.

“To?” he prompts, not sure what I’m trying to ask.

“To make you come?” My cheeks burn as I say it, but if he catches onto my awkwardness, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

His eyes burn into mine. “I want your mouth on my cock possibly more than anything I’ve ever wanted. But we need to get to dinner, and I’d rather save it for tonight when I get you back to my hotel suite.”

I draw in a breath as I realize we’re about to head to dinner with his entire family, and his breath is going to smell like my pussy.

My cheeks burn at the thought.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

He shakes his head with a wry smile. “No. But we’re already late.”

“Do you, uh, want some gum or something?”

He shakes his head. “Fuck no. I don’t want anything taking away the aftertaste of your hot cunt.”

That word used to make my skin crawl, but somehow hearing it out of his mouth after he just had said mouth on said body part…I’m nearly ready to combust all over again.

“Okay. So, we’re just going to sit across the table from your mom with your mouth glistening with my wetness. Cool, cool.”

He laughs. “Maybe a quick stop in your bathroom to wash my hands.”

“Be my guest,” I say, sweeping an arm in that direction. He heads that way, and I slowly get down from the counter, my legs still a little shaky after all that. I use the bathroom next, passing by him in the hallway, and then we head toward the restaurant.

“Will it be weird being with your whole family minus Lincoln?” I ask when we’re on our way.

He shrugs. “Maybe a little. Would it be weird with your family if one brother was missing from dinner?”

I shake my head. “Nah. I talk to Beck the most, and even that is fairly limited. He’s busy with the kids and work. And Oliver’s in Chicago, Alex is in Philly. Everyone’s busy being successful at young ages, and I’m the black sheep in Vegas working at a bakery after blowing my life savings on a dumb skincare line.”

He reaches over to set his hand on my thigh. “I’d hardly call you a black sheep, Ava.”

I lift a shoulder. “Feels that way sometimes. I mean, Oliver’s the youngest senior software developer at his firm. Alex just finished his schooling, and he’s the youngest anesthesiologist on his staff. Beck’s the youngest senior partner at his firm. Everyone is doing these amazing things, and I’m stuck in neutral.”

“Didn’t you invent that special recipe that’s the bestseller at your bakery?” he asks.

“Yeah. Fat lot of good it’s doing me.”

“Stop,” he says, taking my hand in his and threading his fingers through mine. “It’s incredible. You’re working toward your dreams, and owning a bakery is a huge and expensive dream, but I have every faith in you that you’ll make it happen, and it’ll be the best bakery Vegas has ever seen.”

“Thanks, Gray. That’s really sweet of you to say.”

Financially, I’m fine. I can afford rent and living expenses with what I make at the bakery, and I still have enough to tuck a bit into savings each month. Eventually I’ll reach my goal. I know I will.

But I also know Grayson has a lot of money, and I never, ever want him to think that’s something I’m after.

Still, it’s like he senses it, and he addresses it without making it weird. “Hey, what would you think about maybe baking some shit for my teammates when we’re in season, and I could pay you for it?”

“I’d do it for free,” I say.

“I know you would. But I also know you’re saving for a dream, and maybe I could contract you on the side for cookies or granola bars or something. It’s a win-win. I get to bring something for my teammates, you get to make a little side cash.”

It takes me all of two seconds to think it over. “On one condition.”

He glances over at me with narrowed eyes.

“You have to be my taste tester. I refuse to send in something to your team without knowing it’s up to par.”

He chuckles, and he lets go of my hand to stick his out toward me to shake. “It’s a deal.”

We arrive at the restaurant, and Asher, Spencer, Missy, and Eddie Nash are all waiting for us at a large round table.

Grayson takes the seat beside Asher, and I slip in beside Missy.

“What was the hold-up?” Asher asks loudly, and Grayson gives him a shut-the-fuck-up kind of look as he reaches for the chips and salsa. “Ohhh,” Asher says knowingly.

My cheeks burn.

So that’s how this meal is going to go.

I order a margarita, which Missy is drinking, and Grayson gets a Dos Equis, which all three men sitting at the table are also drinking.

I peruse the menu, and so far, the company isn’t all bad despite the earlier teasing. Eddie is sitting on Asher’s other side, so Grayson’s parents are separated with Spencer in between them—which is a good thing since they really don’t seem too keen on interacting with each other. It’s not to the point where it’s awkward—at least not to me, an outsider—but it’s still noticeable.

“When are we going to get to meet Amelia?” Missy asks Spencer. “I thought for sure you’d bring her this weekend.”

“I wanted this weekend to be about Lincoln and Jolene, and I knew it’d be a circus to bring her,” he says. He’s definitely the quietest out of the Nash brothers. He seems the most serious of the four boys, though I don’t know any of them that well apart from spending the day with them today.

“Have you two picked a date yet?” his mom asks.

“You’ll be the first to know when we do. I’m not really in any rush,” he says, and he picks up his Dos Equis.

“Turning thirty and not in a rush,” Missy says. She glances at Grayson as if to note that he’s over thirty, and then there’s the baby, Asher—at twenty-seven. “At least I have one grandbaby.”

“Leave ’em alone, Miss,” Eddie scolds from across the table.

She just purses her lips then lifts her margarita, and we start up a side conversation about the bakery while the men talk football.

All in all, it’s a fun meal with the Nash family, and I feel more and more like I fit in with them.

I like that feeling, but the anticipation of what’s coming next is absolutely killing me. I know he already got me off once tonight, but knowing his plan is to take me back to his hotel and bang me is making me want to rush through the meal so we can get to the dessert course.

Eventually it does come to an end, and we say our goodbyes.

“Will we see you tomorrow?” Missy asks me, and I glance at Grayson.

“If she wants to come,” he says.

I smile. “My boss told me to take two days off, so I’d love to be there.”

She gives me a hug. “I’ve loved spending time with you today, sweetheart.”

“You, too, Missy,” I say, and I squeeze her.

When I glance up at Grayson, I can’t quite read what’s on his face. But something tells me he likes seeing me with his mom.

I like it, too.

When we pull in front of the Palms, Grayson grabs my hand and leans down toward my ear. “You want me to take you on a date first like last time, or are you ready for me to take you upstairs so I can fuck you?”

My cheeks turn bright red. “Upstairs,” I say stupidly, and he laughs then pulls my hand as we practically run through the casino toward the elevators.

There’s another couple on the elevator this time, so we force ourselves not to make out. When the doors open on our floor, we head down the hallway toward his suite, and the second the door closes behind us, he grabs me into his arms as his lips slam down to mine.

Yes. This. This right here. It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for all night.

We kiss near the doorway, and he backs us up until I bump into a wall. I’m a little tipsy from the two margaritas I had, but he only had the one beer.

His hands move up and down my torso as I slip my fingers into his hair, and then he wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my neck as he draws in a deep breath.

It’s sweet and romantic, as if he’s breathing me in for sustenance, and I pull back a little as he does, too. His eyes meet mine.

“You were…God. Tonight was perfect, Av. I loved seeing you with my family. I loved knowing this moment would come, that I’d get you back to my hotel room so I could fuck you until neither of us could see straight. I loved the anticipation of wanting to kiss you, wanting to hold you, wanting to sleep next to you. What the fuck are you doing to me?”

I don’t know how to answer that, so I just press my lips to his. The words come as I back up in a haze of lust. “The same thing you’re doing to me.”

His mouth crashes back down to mine, and we kiss there against the wall near the entry for a while. Eventually, he pulls back and lifts my dress over my head, depositing it on the floor beside us. I pull his shirt over his head, too, and drop it on top of my dress, and then I go for his belt buckle.

“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” He disappears for a beat, and when he returns, he’s standing in his boxer briefs and holding a condom and a bottle of what looks like lube. He takes my hand and leads me over toward the couch, and he sets the condom and the bottle down on the cushion while I kick off my shoes. He slides my panties down my legs and unhooks my bra. He pulls his boxer briefs off, too, and we’re both standing naked in the living room of his suite.

He pulls me into his arms, and I feel his cock as it nestles between us. I tip my head back, and our eyes meet, exchanging a heated and intimate moment before he lowers his mouth to mine.

Thrills light up my chest as anticipation for this moment climbs through my spine. I’ve been waiting for another chance at this since we parted ways the last time, and I can’t believe it’s really happening.

He opens his mouth to mine, and he kisses me slowly, that magical tongue of his moving skillfully against mine as I kiss back with everything I have, pushing every longing feeling I’ve had for him for a decade into this kiss.

His scruff is rough against my mouth, and I’m reminded of the way it tickled my thighs earlier. A pulsing ache rockets through my core as he shifts his hips, and then he pulls back, licks his two fingers with his eyes on mine, and he moves his hand down to push those two wet fingers right into me.

I grip onto his shoulders as I close my eyes at the feel, and he grunts as he feels how wet I already am.

“Open your eyes,” he orders, and my eyes fly open as they land on his. “That’s better. I want you looking at me while I finger fuck you. I want you to know who’s doing this to you. I want you thinking only of me.”

“I do only think of you,” I protest, my voice breathless and needy.

“That’s right, you do,” he says, and he shoves his fingers in a little harder. “And this pussy? It’s mine.”

“Yes, Grayson,” I groan as I fight the urge to close my eyes and give into the pressure building.

His eyes flash at me. “I’m the only man who’s ever fucked it.”

“Oh, God,” I moan as he shoves those fingers in and curls them up.

“Tell me it’s mine,” he demands.

“It’s yours. Only yours. Forever yours.” Oh my God. What did I just say? Did I just say forever as if we might have an actual future together?

I expect him to freeze, or freak out, or…something. But that’s not at all what I get.

His eyes grow even more heated as he holds his fingers inside me for a few beats, curling them upward in this way that makes me want to come, but then it all stops.

“Only mine,” he repeats. “Now bend over the couch so I can show you how I take care of what’s mine.”

I scramble over to the armrest and bend over it, and I hear the rip of the condom wrapper. I turn around and watch him over my shoulder as he slides it on, and he strokes himself a few times, letting out a low grunt as he does it.

The whole view is like something I dreamed of in a sexy fantasy, but this is my reality.

He grabs the bottle of lube from the couch, and I hear him squeeze the bottle.

And then I feel his heat as he moves in behind me. He slides his finger through me again then grabs onto my hip with one hand while he aligns himself with my slit. He glides through me and lands on my clit, and he teases me there for a few beats before he slides his giant cock up to push himself all the way into me.

We both moan once he’s all the way in, and he holds himself steady as my body gets used to his size. It’s not painful at all this time, but he’s stretching me to fit all the way in, and all that lube is just making him feel like heaven.

He pulls back and slowly eases forward again, going deep into me, and I have the sudden need for friction.

“Can you go faster?” I ask, my voice a little low, a little tentative.

“It’s okay to tell me what you want, baby,” he grunts. He picks up the pace a little, and it feels so good. So damn good.

But it’s still not enough. I want him to push me to the edge.

“Faster,” I say with a little more confidence this time.

He moves a little faster, and God, yes, it’s so good.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands.

I feel weird saying it, but I do it anyway. “Touch my nipples.”

My breasts swing beneath me, and he reaches around to grasp one of them in his palm. He takes my nipple between his thumb and the side of his forefinger and rolls it, and yes, that’s exactly what I needed.

“Oh God, yes!” I scream.

He’s bucking into me more wildly now with shorter strokes, and I can tell he’s getting close.

He’s still gripping my hip with his other hand, his fingers digging in as he tries to hold himself off so we can come together.

He leans over me so I can feel his heat along my spine, and his lips find my neck as he continues to pound into me and roll my nipple. He lets go of the one to grapple for the other, and his hot, growly moans as he pounds into me are going to be my undoing.

“Fuck, Ava, your pussy is so goddamn tight. Tell me again how this is my cunt,” he grunts.

“It’s yours, Grayson. Only yours.” My own voice sounds like a whiny cry to me, but it spurs him on as he lets go of my hip to reach for my other breast.

“These tits are mine, too,” he declares.

“You own me,” I cry. “All of me.”

“You’re goddamn right, I do,” he says, and he rolls both my nipples as he drives into me a little harder, a little faster.

I cry out as my body starts to tighten, and then he reaches down with one of his hands to caress my clit as he slows the shorter thrusts to long, deep strokes—as if he knows exactly what my body needs before I need to ask him.

It’s my undoing.

I scream out incoherently, some mix of his name and the fact that I’m coming and a bunch of curse words, as my body tightens and contracts beneath him. He moans as he feels my come drenching his cock, and he glides easily in and out of me as he waits through my release. It’s long and it hits me hard, and once it starts to slow, my body trembles.

He moves his hands back to my hips as he keeps plunging into me with those deep, wonderfully slower thrusts. I want to make him come, too, so I reach down between us and make a V with my first and second fingers around his cock as it slides in and out of me. I twist my hand and reach a little lower with my other fingers to grasp lightly onto his balls.

“Holy fuck,” he says, and I feel his balls tighten in my gasp. A loud roar fills the room as he starts to come, and I keep doing exactly what I’m doing as he rides out his orgasm. As soon as he’s done, he pulls out of me and helps me up, spinning me around before grabbing me up into his arms—literally. He’s carrying me like I weigh nothing, and his cloudy, hazy eyes fall to mine. He presses his lips to mine gently before pulling back. “Jesus Christ, Ava. That was…” He trails off as his eyes glaze over.

“Amazing,” I say softly.

He nods, and he carries me around the couch, through the bedroom, and to the bathroom. He sets me on the ledge of the tub then turns on the water and runs a washcloth under it. He returns to me, and I expect him to just hand me the washcloth, but he doesn’t. He pushes my knees open then uses the washcloth to wipe me clean before he takes care of the condom.

He’s quiet during the process, and I wish I knew what he was thinking.

I wish I could tell him what I’m thinking, and maybe I will. Or maybe it’ll scare us both for me to admit that I’m head over freaking heels in love with this guy.

“I’ll give you a minute,” he says softly, and he leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

My body is warm and tingly after that. It was only my second time, but it was in a completely different league from the first.

This time, mutual feelings were involved, and it was absolutely magical.

I only hope he’s feeling the same things I am and that I’m not just setting myself up for an epic heartbreak.