“I could bring her home if you wanted to go back inside,” Eva offered.

  I waved Eva off, not looking away from my cellphone screen.

  “Such a martyr,” she chuckled.

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  Mathilde seemed to have lost all of her bones somewhere between the club and our apartment. The return ride had thankfully been uneventful; now we only needed to get Mathilde inside and on the elevator. I was actually thankful for Eva’s assistance. I wasn’t so sure I would have been able to handle our much taller roommate on my own. We stood on either side of Mathilde and guided her into the apartment complex, much like helping an injured teammate off of the court.

  We made it back to our assigned apartment without incident. I poured Mathilde into her bed, not bothering with trying to get her into pajamas. I filled a water bottle and set it on her bedside table along with some ibuprofen for the morning.

  In the kitchen, I filled two more tall glasses with water from the tap and slid one across the island in Eva’s direction. With Mathilde safely snoring off the results of too much fun, we lingered in the kitchen to rehydrate. We had a rare day off the next day, but that didn’t mean I wanted to suffer through a hangover.

  Eva nodded her thanks before lifting the glass to her lips. I drank deeply from my own cup and observed her over the top rim.

  “That was quick thinking back there,” she remarked. Her voice was low, not wanting to disturb Mathilde in the next room. “Dez could have gotten in a lot of trouble.”

  “You got out of there fast,” I observed. “Bad for the brand if you get involved in a bar fight?”

  She didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she finished the remaining water in her pint glass.

  “I had to clear my head.”

  I hummed. “So you said. Clear it of what?”

  Eva’s gaze leveled on me. Her eyes traced the contours of my upper body with a palpable intensity. I could feel the weight of her silent inspection, charging the stillness of the room. Her lips parted slightly as if to speak, but instead, she simply breathed.

  “It really is a nice suit.”

  She didn’t seem to be admiring the fabric or the fit of my blazer any more.

  Eva wet her lips. “Come here.”

  I didn’t think. I only reacted.

  I set down my glass and rounded the kitchen island. Her eyes never left mine as the distance melted between us.

  When I finally stood before her, she reached for me. Her fingers brushed against my lapel before sliding up to rest on my chest. The warmth of her touch seeped through the expensive fabric, igniting a heated trail that spread through my entire body.

  Her fingers went to the pendant necklace that hung in the space between my breasts. She toyed with the flat, gold disk. Her fingers ghosted over my skin.

  “If we do this,” she said in that careful but clear cadence that was all Eva Montgomery, “you have to promise me something.”

  My pulse quickened. “Hmm?”

  “Don’t fall in love with me.”

  I snorted. The trance she’d had me under temporarily lifted. “Ego on the court and in the sheets, eh?”

  “I mean it, Lex. I really value our friendship. I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

  “Then why do it?”

  Her hand slid from the end of my necklace, up the side of my neck, to cup my chin and cheek in the palm of her hand.

  “Because you look good, and I’m fucking horny.”

  Her answer was good enough for me.

  “Your bedroom or mine?” I asked.

  “Mine,” she decided. “I don’t share a wall with Mathilde.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Her hands were on my hips and her commanding words were breathy in my ear: “Hang up your suit.”

  I laughed, certain that the highly charged moment from the kitchen had been broken. So much for pillow talk.

  Eva frowned and took a step back. “I’m serious. I won’t be able to enjoy myself if I’m thinking about that beautiful suit being ruined on my floor.”

  “I could ruin you on the floor instead.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  I shrugged. I tended to talk a big game in the bedroom. It was akin to my on-court personality; I could get mouthy during a game, too, but I always backed it up. No empty promises or false bravado from this girl.

  Eva folded her arms across her chest, unimpressed. Her barely contained breasts lifted and threatened to spill over the top of her minidress.

  I laughed a second time. “Okay, okay,” I conceded.

  Eva retrieved an empty hanger from her closet and held it out for me. I unfastened the few buttons on my blazer and shrugged out of it. I’d worn nothing beneath the suit jacket, leaving me topless.

  I could feel hungry eyes sweep over my upper torso. I carefully draped the blazer on the wooden hanger, taking more time with the task than what was probably necessary, but Eva’s appreciative stare inflated my already swollen ego. She had never looked at me like that in the locker room or even when I’d been trying on the clothes Dyaisha had brought over.

  I unfastened the hidden trouser button and unzipped the front of my tailored pants. My shoes came next before I stepped out of the pants as well. I arranged the trousers on the hanger Eva continued to hold aloft. She was exhibiting what I thought was an unnatural amount of willpower.

  “Good?” I asked. I stood a little taller in only a pair of boy shorts.

  Eva hung up the suit on the back of her closet. She smoothed the fabric in a few places. “Good.”

  We approached her mattress from opposite sides of the room. I climbed onto the queen-sized bed and sank into the white, pillowy duvet. Eva’s movements mirrored my own until we met in the middle. Her hands dropped to my hips, and she pulled our lower bodies closer together. I couldn’t mask the way my breath caught in my throat.

  I’d felt her eyes on me all evening. Her hands felt even better.

  The build up to this moment had taken some time, especially considering she’d insisted on me properly hanging up my suit. I’d had a few drinks at the club, but enough time had passed that I was no longer feeling its effects. We were going into this stone cold sober.

  I sat up on my knees on her mattress. The skirt of her minidress had ridden high up her thighs, and I was only so happy to hike it farther up. My hands rested on her solid, muscled thighs and back to her decidedly grabbable ass. She’d taken a handful of mine during rebounding drills—now it was my turn. I ran my palms over her thighs, to her ass, and back again, enjoying her firm curves and smooth skin.

  I kept staring at her mouth. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to kiss away her lipstick, to smudge and smear it on her perfectly painted mouth.

  I drew my hand close to her mouth. I swiped the pad of my thumb along her full, lower lip.

  “Color fast lipstick,” she recited. “The color stays on until you take it off.”

  She sounded like a paid testimonial.

  “How about I take it off?” I proposed.

  I wet my own lips and leaned forward. Her mascara’d eyelashes fluttered before shutting completely.

  I heard her quiet intake of air when our mouths first connected. I knew how she must be feeling because I was experiencing it, too. Was this really happening? How had we gotten here?

  I touched the side of her face, my palm gently resting against her cheek. I touched her with the same hand she’d broken only a few months ago.

  Eva remained still, eyes closed, while I brushed my lips against hers. I kissed one corner of her mouth, tasting her designer lipstick. I kissed the opposite corner and felt her tremble. I centered myself and pressed my open mouth to hers.

  Another sigh, another approving sound. She rested her palm against the column of my throat. She trailed her fingers down until they ghosted over the tops of my breasts.

  Her teeth lightly took purchase of my lower lip. She tugged and nipped at my mouth. When our tongues collided, she drew my tongue into her mouth and sucked.

  My upper thigh fell between the juncture of her parted legs. I pressed into her center until I heard her quiet moan.

  I blindly felt for a zipper on her dress or some kind of escape hatch. I blew out a frustrated breath when none was to be found. “You have to take off your dress.”

  “I do?” she questioned with faux ignorance.

  “I would, but I don’t know how to do it.”

  She nuzzled her nose against the side of my neck. “You’ll figure it out.”

  It was hard to stay annoyed when she dragged her tongue up my neck. Thankfully I was already on my knees, otherwise they certainly would have buckled.

  I ran my hands across her back and along her sides. My fingers finally caught on a thin, metal track. I blindly felt for its origin until I discovered the top of the zipper. I gently eased the zipper down despite my eagerness to have her naked before me. Inch by inch, Eva Montgomery came into view.

  She wiggled out of the expensive-looking dress. She’d needed no shapewear, no strapless bra underneath. Only her seamless, high-cut underwear remained.

  I’d seen her naked before, but not like this. It was one thing to see a teammate in the locker room, changing in or out of clothes or even to observe her in the shower. It was completely different to undress her myself and to be moments away from touching and kissing and licking all that I’d exposed.

  I wanted to fling her dress across the room, but I sensed that decision would be met with consternation, not approval.

  “Should I hang it up?” I offered.

  Eva coyly smiled. “What do you think?”

  I tumbled off the bed and retrieved a hanger from her closet. I was careful to do it right the first time. I wanted no further distractions or interruptions.

  Eva laid back on the bed. The warm, radiant tone of her skin provided a striking contrast to the cool, white sheets. She tugged at rich brown nipples, several shades darker than the rest of her body.

  My heart hammered in my chest. She was too beautiful, and I was drowning.

  “Get back here, Lex,” she urged.

  I was light on my feet as I approached the bed. I eased back onto the mattress. “Speaking of bonkers tits,” I murmured in appreciation.

  She pressed her naked breasts together, creating ample cleavage that I wanted to dive right into. “Who knew these were hiding beneath a sports bra, right?” she smirked.

  “Don’t pretend you weren’t showing those off before,” I teased back.

  Now that I had her all but naked, I took my time. I drank in the length of her body, down to her painted, manicured toenails.

  I traced light circles around her stiff peaks before ducking my head to flick my tongue against the sensitive buds. My hand rested on the flat expanse of her abdomen while I swirled the tip of my tongue around her nipples. I felt her muscles tense and flex beneath my hand when I sucked as much of her breast into my mouth and released it with a noisy pop.

  I required no verbal cues to know what should happen next.

  I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband and rolled her underwear down her thighs. Eva lifted her backside off the mattress. I removed her panties with care, enjoying a little too much the fluid slide of the material down her long legs.

  I settled on my stomach and paused long enough to arch an eyebrow. “Shaved?”

  “Waxed,” she corrected. Her stare was all challenge and defiance. “I’ve had no complaints.”

  She’d get none from me either. She was velvet on my tongue.

  Her hands went to the back of my head and my low ponytail. I could feel her try to set the pace and pressure, but I was no novice.

  I pulled away, but only slightly. “I’m good at this. Promise.”

  She of all people should know I didn’t do anything half-assed. My work ethic was unparalleled in all areas of my life.

  Eva looked down at me with those light honey eyes, now a deeper amber color in her faintly lit bedroom. “My body is picky.”

  I reverently kissed the inside of her thigh. “Your body is a lot of things.” I licked a long line where her thigh met pelvic bone. “Just relax,” I coaxed. “If I do something you don’t like, tell me.”

  I hooked my arms under her thighs and tugged her closer to where she needed to be—on my mouth.

  “And if I do something you do like,” I prompted, my mouth inching closer, “tell me that, too.”

  I spread her open with my fingers and licked the length of her petal pink slit. I flattened my tongue and fluttered it against her clit.

  Eva’s approving moan reached my ears. Her hands clenched the bed’s fitted sheet instead of the back of my head. “That’s a good start.”

  I rotated between manipulating her clit and penetrating her with my tongue. I watched the way her body tensed and squirmed as I alternated my technique. I stroked the underside of her clit with the flat of my tongue before pushing inside. Her quiet grunts increased in volume the longer I fucked her with my tongue.

  I licked along her slit a final time before I pressed my middle finger against her entrance. I paused to seek permission. “Is this okay?”

  “Jesus, yes,” she panted.

  I slowly entered her, up to my second knuckle; I watched in a lust-filled fog as her pussy enveloped me. I slid in with a second finger. We both groaned at the intoxicating stretch. She was tight and warm around my fingers, clenching and pulling me deeper each time I bottomed out. Her hips rolled and thrust forward in time with my piercing fingers.

  Still, I wanted more.

  I slid up her body with my fingers still inside her. Eva wrapped her long legs around me; her heels pressed into my backside, urging me on. I kissed her deeply, our tongues battling. I swallowed her quiet moans.

  Our height difference was obvious when we were on a basketball court and especially in a nightclub when she insisted on wearing heels. But with me on top of her in bed and my hand between her thighs, she no longer seemed so tall.

  A nagging, pinching sensation deep in my right wrist had me slowing, but not quite stopping. Eva noticed and astutely discerned the culprit behind the change of pace.

  “Don’t overdo it, Lex,” she cautioned in a surprisingly composed voice. “That’ll be a really awkward conversation having to explain to the trainers how you re-injured your wrist.”

  My competitive nature told me to push through it. No pain, no gain. I could always switch to my left hand, but that felt like admitting defeat even if I was pretty sure I could finish the job—finish Eva—with my less dominant hand.

  She must have sensed me working through the scenarios in my head. Her hands took solid purchase of my backside before she flipped us over.

  She hovered above me. “Take a breather, hero.”

  My underwear had somehow survived our previous activities, but Eva took it upon herself to rid me of the final obstacle. She wedged her solid thigh between my legs. I groaned at the delicious sensation of her molten skin pressed against my overheating sex.

  Eva ground into me. I watched her slowly drag her pussy across my hip. Over and over, I was transfixed by the wonderfully erotic sight.

  I held onto her thighs as she undulated into me. Each thrust of her hips brought her upper thigh into contact with my naked sex. After all we’d done, I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to come undone; I was wound so tightly, the brush of a feather might have me exploding.

  I took it all in. The full, luscious hips and thighs. The flat abdomen and cinched waist. The high, tight breasts. She looked like some kind of sex goddess who’d taken pity on me, an undeserving mortal.

  I felt the tightness first in my stomach and then my lower abdomen.

  But I needed her to come first.

  “Lex,” she panted, a sharp staccato sound.

  Her short fingernails dug into my hip and thigh.

  “Shit. There. Right there,” I urged.

  “Are you—” she gasped. Her braids fell forward to half cover her breasts.

  “Close. Yes,” I grit out.

  She grabbed onto my hips and thrust harder. Wilder. Any semblance of rhythm or patience was abandoned. Her hand fell between my thighs. She blindly searched for my clit. Her fingers fumbled over me, rough and without precision, but it was all I needed.

  I wanted to shout, but some part of my brain remembered Mathilde in the next door. I made a sound like a watery sob as my climax crested and crashed.

  I didn’t selfishly bask in my orgasm. My wrist had been benched for long enough.

  I sat up and wrapped an arm around Eva’s waist. My free hand parted her slick thighs. I heard the surprise in her breath as my fingers penetrated her again.

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered.

  She held onto the tops of my shoulders. I rubbed her clit with my thumb while she thrust herself onto my fingers. I held my wrist still so she could dictate the pace. Her head fell forward, chin touching her chest.

  “Fuck, that’s good, Lex. Fuck, that’s so fucking good,” came her restrained chant.

  When her lower body lost that rhythm again, I knew she was close. I took over where she’d fallen off. My thumb mashed inelegantly against her clit each time I bottomed out.

  Her hands tightened like a vise on my shoulders. I continued to piston in and out of her. Her sex tightened and clenched around my two fingers.

  Her orgasm was quiet, restrained like mine. It started as a whine deep in her throat and all but died on her lips. It made me want to get her alone—truly alone—so neither of us needed to hold back.

  “See? I told you,” she said between breaths. “Picky.”

  I tightened my arm around her waist and rested my head in the valley between her breasts. I wanted to reassure her that I didn’t mind the extra effort—that I wasn’t afraid of a little hard work—but I was out of breath.

  My heart was still hammering in my chest when the realization of what we’d done crept into my brain. I’d had sex with Eva Montgomery. Fucking delicious, toe-curling sex with the woman with whom I’d been in competition for so long.