The Perfect Play

I love you, asshole." Then Gavin laughed. "Right back at you, dickhead.

Granted, physical attraction is what gets you in the door. But there has to be something beyond that to want to keep you there.

Bastard." "You love me." "Yes, I do. Now let me come.

You dance really well.” “I took ballet lessons.” She tilted her head back to search his face, certain he was joking. “You did not.” “I did. Several of us on the team did. Good for coordination.” Resisting the laugh that bubbled up in her throat, she said, “Somehow I can’t picture you in tights and a tutu.” But he did laugh. “We made sure no one with a camera got within miles of the studio.

If he licked her there, she'd rob a bank for him. When she felt his tongue glide across her throat, she quivered all over. Mick tightensed his hold on her, and the bastard did it again.

She's important to me. What you think-or want- isn't. I love her. And if I lose her over this, you'll regret it.

Mom, I don't care if you're dating the guy who picks up our garbage, as long as he's nice to you.

Mick hadn’t become the NFL’S leading quarterback by lying back and playing dead.

She does love me. She's scared.

I'd love another kid like Nathan. Or maybe a little girl like you.

I'm the lucky one, Tara. I have you; I have Nathan. I have the perfect life. Thank you.

You put your life on hold for me. And really, I get that. I appreciate that. But I'm not a baby anymore. Let go, Mom.

I want to play football for as long as my body will let me, and for as long as I can do a good job at it. And I want a wife. A son. Maybe another kid.

Heaven. I love the way you fit inside me.

I love you. I've missed you. I've been so stupid.

Then quit sitting here like a whiny pussy and go do something about it.

I thought a lot about kissing you.

I'm scared Gavin. What if I can't do this?

Just thought he might want to see me play.