Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
"Careful, Rossi."
I smirk.
"You know I’m always careful when it counts."
She laughs softly, and just like that, the weight of everything else fades. My thumb brushes over her cheek, and my smirk eases into something softer.
"Come and stay with me this weekend."
Her brows lift slightly, like she wasn’t expecting it.
"I - at your place?"
"Yeah." I nod. "Training’s been brutal with the final next week, but we could hang out, swim, relax, eat too much pasta..."
"Why do I have a feeling that your idea of relaxing involves running sprints up your driveway?"
"Only if you join me," I smirk.
"I don’t know… a whole weekend at your place?" she muses, eyes twinkling. "Sounds suspiciously like you’re trying to woo me."
I grin.
"What gave me away?"
"You inviting me, for one. And the pasta," she says. "You know I can never resist good carbs."
"Perfect." I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Then you’ll be there on Friday night."
She hesitates, just for a second, and I catch it.
"Are you sure?" she asks. "I mean… the game next week is huge. Shouldn’t you be, like, meditating alone in a dark room or something?"
"No,” I chuckle, fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns on her hip. “I don’t need meditation. I’ve got you."
She laughs softly. "What, am I your lucky charm now?"
"Absolutely." My voice drops lower. "And you’ll be there next week, sì?"
She nods.
"Mmhm. Don’t worry - you can expect one more post-match interview from me."
"Good." I smirk, brushing my lips against her jawline. "And you’ll get to watch me lift the trophy with your own eyes."
She snorts, shaking her head.
"God, your confidence is something else."
I grin.
"What can I say? I know how to win. And even more than that… I like giving you a good show."
"Is that right?"
"Of course." My grip tightens on her waist, pulling her closer. "You get to watch history, bella. Me, Roma, the trophy… It’ll be a huge celebration. Champagne showers all around."
I pause, letting my smile turn wicked.
"Who knows? Maybe I’ll pull you onto the pitch for a kiss. Give the cameras something else to obsess over."
Her cheeks heat, and I know I’ve got her right where I want her.
"No, thank you," she mutters. "The public is already far too invested in whatever this is."
"Exactly." I flash her a teasing grin. "So you might as well give the people what they want."
She rolls her eyes, but there’s amusement in them, and I love that I can pull it out of her so easily.
She stretches beneath me, her body shifting against mine, and fuck, the movement alone has me hardening again.
I clear my throat, shifting to prop myself up on one elbow.
"The team has booked out an entire hotel for the players, coaches, staff - everyone,” I tell her. “Where will you be?"
She shrugs.
"I’m not actually sure. Richard only booked my hotel last week."
"Not to worry,” I hum, trailing my fingers lazily down her bare thigh. “I expect you’ll be visiting me."
"Visiting you?"
"Sì. Professionally, of course."
"Mixing work and pleasure, Rossi?" she laughs. "Isn’t that against your strict athletic code?"
"You’re worth bending the rules for."
She stills for just a beat. I see it - the way her throat works as she swallows, the way something unreadable flickers in her eyes.
She knows what I mean, and I meant what I said.
But instead of addressing it, she huffs out a breath and forces a smirk.
"And if I behave myself?" she asks. "Will I get another exclusive?"
"Absolutely." I roll on top of her, pinning her beneath the weight of my body. "And you can interview me very thoroughly while I recover from my goal-scoring, trophy-lifting, game-winning performance."
"God, you’re insufferable," she groans, flopping back against the pillows.
I chuckle as I lower my lips to her ear, my stubble grazing her skin.
"And yet," I whisper, "you can’t resist me."
She opens her mouth to argue, but I move lower, my lips tracing along her throat, sucking lightly at her pulse point, and she melts.
"See?" I tease, voice thick with amusement as her legs wrap easily around my waist. "No resistance."
"I… I could resist if I wanted to," she breathes.
I lift my head, eyes glinting. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Okay, bella,” I smirk. “Let’s test that theory."
I move lower, my mouth trailing over her collarbone, my hand gliding down her stomach, slipping between her thighs.
She gasps the second my fingers stroke over her clit.
“Still resisting?”
I keep my touch featherlight, teasing her until she’s trembling beneath me, her fingers tangling in my hair, her breath coming in soft, desperate whimpers.
"Still resisting?" I repeat, voice rough.
She barely manages to shake her head, and I chuckle darkly.
"Stubborn woman."
I push two fingers inside her, and she moans, her hips lifting to meet my touch.
"Say it," I command. "Say it, Daphne."
"I -" She gasps as my thumb circles her clit, her whole body tensing beneath me. "I can’t resist you."