Play Along (Windy City, #4)

by Liz Tomforde

“These need to go.” He snaps the elastic material against my skin before slipping a hand under the waistband, curving over my ass, squeezing me in his palm.

He rolls me onto my back, licking and kissing a path down my stomach. “Tell me to stop, Ken.” “No.”

He grins against me as he pulls my leggings down in a motion so fluid that it impresses even me. Sitting back on his haunches, he clears them from my ankles and tosses them to the floor. “Same color.” His attention immediately snags on my matching thong, stroking a thumb over the elastic band. Yes. Yes, it is.

One I can’t think about or diagnose because I’m currently distracted by the giant baseball player laying hot kisses along my stomach as he crawls back up my body, his erection thick and hard against the inside of my thigh.

I gently run my palm down his face. “We should stop being so fucking polite, don’t you think?” “Well, it’s either that or me ruining you for all other men, so it’s your choice, wifey.”

“You wanna play, Kenny? Let’s fucking play.”

“Mmm,” I moan. “Do that again.” “You do it.” He crosses his arms behind his head, an arrogant smile on his lips. “Fuck yourself on me, Ken. Show me what you can do.”

“God, look at you. So fucking beautiful, rubbing your pussy all over me. Are you going to come like this, Kenny?” “I think so,” I choke out, rhythmically sliding my clit over the head of his erection. “Yes, you are. It feels so fucking good. You’re making me so fucking hard. Don’t stop until you come. I need to see it.”

“Isaiah?” My fingernails dig into his pecs. “Will you help me finish?” His swollen cock pulses beneath me, his eyes closing, as if he needs to try to control himself. “When have I ever been able to say no to you?”

His hands find my waist before curling around my back, smoothly running up and down the length of my spine. “I…” He shakes his head. “I cannot believe you’re here. I feel so fucking lucky.” He palms my breasts, thumbs tracing circles over my peaked nipples, under the lace of my bralette. “And these…these are fucking perfect.”

“I have never ever been more turned on than I am by you, Kennedy Kay. By this little matching set you wore for me. By your fucking hair bouncing down your back every time you writhe on my cock, and I have never, never been more turned on than I am right now, knowing you’re going to come all over me, and I haven’t even had the pleasure of properly touching you yet.”

He whispers more encouragement as we both look down to watch me move over him. “That’s it. You’re doing so good for me, Kenny. God, that feels fucking amazing.”

“No,” Isaiah refuses. “Give me one. I need one from you. I need to see it.” His thumb swipes over my panties, right over my clit. He rubs softs circles there and my hips follow the pattern, the pressure slowly building its way back again. “Yes,” I hiss through my teeth. “Help me.”

The moment I’m convinced he’s going to push the fabric out of the way, give himself easier access, he hooks his finger, looping the material and giving himself something to hold on to. Something to guide me. He pulls my panties towards him, subsequently pulling me, the lace taut and causing delicious friction over my clit.

He moves me, rocks me over his sweatpants, pushing and pulling me by his single finger hooked into my thong. Like a fucking rein. And I follow his direction willingly. “You’re doing so good, baby, fucking yourself on me.” He can hardly get the words out through his ragged breaths. “Use me.”

One day, someone else will see me this way too. I can only hope.

“You are…” He kisses my temple. “…the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I will die a very happy man after getting to witness that.” “I don’t think I’ve ever come like that.”

“Yeah? Just wait until I get to use my fingers or my mouth on you. Fuck, I’m going to come just thinking about it.” I chuckle against him, rolling out of his arms and onto my back.

The naughty smirk he shoots me screams that he absolutely does. “Stalker.”

“Wait.” I grab his arm. “Finish here. I want to watch.” His brow lifts as he looks at me over his shoulder. “Are you going to help me?”

Isaiah keeps his attention locked on me as he stands from the bed. Big and tall and proud, he runs a single hand through his hair before using the other to wipe across the spot I left on his pants then dipping his hand into his waistband and using it to coat himself. Holy shit.

HOTTTTTTTTT

“How are you going to help me with this problem, Ken?” “I…um…however you want me to?” He licks his bottom lip. “Are you going to take me in that smart mouth of yours? Suck me off until I’m coming down that pretty throat?” Oh.

I knew he was big, I could feel it, but I didn’t realize he was this…blessed.

Thick but not in an ungodly way, and long, but proportionate to him. The man is 6’4”, big hands, big feet, and a big, pretty dick. Pretty as the rest of him.

“You like my cock, Ken?” “I’m not answering that. Your ego is already big enough.” “Mmm,” he hums. “Big was the first adjective on your mind, huh? Wonder why.” I huff a laugh. “Eyes are up here, Kennedy.”

AHHHHHHHHHHH

I keep my attention locked on his stroking hand, on the head that’s red and leaking, on the angry veins running down his length. “I, and I can’t begin to express this enough, don’t give a fuck where your eyes are at.” “Oh, I get it,” he chuckles as he crawls onto the bed. “I’m just your sex doll now. Only here for your pleasure.” “Exactly.”

He opens my legs, fitting his naked body to lay on top of me. “That sounds like my dream job, to be honest. If I knew the position was open, I would’ve applied for it years ago.” Placing a soft kiss on my smiling lips, he takes my hand and guides it to wrap around his shaft. “Now be a good little wife and make me come.”

AHHHHHHH IM OBSESSED WITH THIS MAN!!!!!

“Fuck,” he breathes as I pump him in my fist. “I’m not going to last long.” He laces his fingers through my free hand, pinning it to the mattress as he circles the pad of his ring finger over my wedding band, the way he tends to do when holding my left.

“Yes,” he pants. “Yes. Yes. Please. Please don’t stop.” I don’t. I meet his pace as he rocks into me, using my hand to fuck himself. He looks like he’s fucking me, with my legs open around him, his cock thrusting against my core. God, I just know he’ll be good at it.

“You’re okay with that?” he asks. “I’m perfect.” “I know.” He kisses my throat. “I’ve been trying to tell you.”

He dots warm kisses up across my jaw as he speaks. “As much as I would love for you to walk around for the rest of your life with my cum dripping all over you, I need to clean you up.”

He, of course, still doesn’t go for a shirt.

“I can do it,” I tell him, sitting up and reaching for the cloth. “Good for you.” He holds it out of my reach. “Now move your greedy little hands and let me clean you up before I wrap them around my cock and we do this all over again.” “Jesus.” I startle with a laugh.

“And what about me?” he asks, crossing his arms and leaning into the doorway. “Did I have a good game tonight?” The insinuation in his tone screams that he’s not referring to baseball.

“Dean,” I huff a laugh. “What are you talking about? I’m married.” Whoa. Why the hell did I say that? Why the hell did I think that?

“Kennedy,” he laughs incredulously. “How many times have you talked shit about Isaiah Rhodes in the past?” “Yeah, well, he’s my husband. I can talk shit all I want, but it doesn’t mean you can.”

Did you steal my phone last night and change your contact name? World’s Best Husband I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.

Hehehe

Once again, he turns to look back at me, but this time he’s not looking for my face. He finds my leg that’s untucked from the covers, reaching over and settling his palm over my ankle, gently rubbing his thumb over the bone.

“Fuck, Ken. I don’t want you on the floor.” “You’re on the floor, so why can’t I be?” “Because you’re my wife.”

“There’s nothing weak about you, Kenny. You’re just a perfectionist who doesn’t see how perfect she already is.” He places his hand over mine, behind his neck, fingers toying with my wedding ring.

“I’ve always cared, Kenny. Too much sometimes, but people don’t want that guy. Who wants to hang around the guy who has anxiety attacks over the fucking weather?” The constant smiles, the playful jokes. Isaiah has endless friends. He tends to be the center of attention and maybe that’s because he knows how to play the part and be exactly who people want him to be.

“It was raining so hard she probably couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her. A car hydroplaned on the road, and my mom, she swerved to avoid them and ended up getting her car wrapped around a tree. I was thirteen years old when it happened, and it was still storming outside my windows when Kai came into my room and told me.”

“Isaiah—” “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Kenny.” His tone is desperate, as if he needs to be fixed and I could be the one to do it. “It’s been eighteen years and every time the weather is like this, I can’t calm myself down. Every worst-case scenario runs through my mind, and I can’t relax until I hear from every single person I care about.” His fingers continue to toy with his mom’s ring on my finger, his face pained. “My skin gets hot and the way I breathe…” He taps his chest. “It’s not normal.”

:( poor baby

His words are pleading for me to not think of him any differently, but this version of Isaiah, vulnerable and honest…it is different. It’s the most attractive he’s ever been to me.

From an outsider’s point of view, you’d think Kai was the one who had the burden on his shoulders, getting his younger brother through their teenage years. But what about Isaiah? Knowing their dynamic, I would imagine he took on the burden of making his brother laugh, even when Isaiah was heartbroken. Even when he didn’t want to smile himself, he probably did so for Kai. Wanted to convince him he was okay. That they’d both be okay.

But the only one of us who should be concerned if my opinion on Isaiah Rhodes has changed is me. Because I think I might like what I see.

“The day you and I met.” His words are soft against my skin as he speaks. “I was hiding in the women’s restroom because that was the same date my mom died. I was having a bad day, and I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. I’m always having a bad day on that date, but for the first time in a long time, while I was talking to you, I felt this spark of genuine joy that I couldn’t ignore. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to fake it. So, it’s your fault, Kenny. You’re the reason I’ve been hooked from day one.” My throat feels small. My nose and eyes prick with heat.

I’ve been a bargaining piece. A second-choice fiancée and even an unwanted employee, but I’ve never been someone’s joy.

“Isaiah?” “Yeah?” “We got married on that date.” He curls into me, lips dusting the skin of my neck before plac...

“On the worst day of the year, I had two of the best days of my life.” My eyes screw shut as I hide myself against his bare chest. Just like I’ve never been someone’s joy, I’ve also never been someone’s best.