by Mignon Mykel
“Hi…” I drawl.
“Hello, ma’am,” the officer greets. Bending down, he peers into the car seeing Colson reclined back. A smirk lines the cop’s mouth as he stands back up.
“Umm, can we help you? Is everything alright?”
“Well, I guess it appears to be. We got a report of some suspicious activity, and someone requested we drive through to, uh, check to make sure everything’s okay.”
My eyes dart to Colson, as he tries to smother his cackling. Climbing off his lap, I slide over to my seat and adjust the waist of my shorts before shoving my feet into my discarded shoes as we adjust our seats back up.
“Please step out of the vehicle.”
“Shit.” My face warms, humiliation settling over me. We were already blasted in the media once this month. They are going to have a heyday when they get their hands on this story.
“Don’t worry,” Colson whispers. “I’ll take care of it.”
He must sense my nervousness, knowing how this is going to look for both of us.
He opens the door and climbs out, and I follow along with him.
“What are your names?” the officer asks.
“Colson Rush and her name is Sydney Carr. I’m sorry, officer. I know how this must look.”
“Colson Rush.” His tone changes completely. “I thought I recognized you. I heard you were moving down to Miami. We’re glad to have you here. I’m a big fan of the Blaze,” he gushes.
Of course, it seems like everyone is just as smitten by him as I am.
“Thank you, sir. I’m looking forward to the upcoming season and glad to be a part of the team.”
His grin beams on his face, glancing from Colson to me, then back to Colson.
“You said your name is Carr, right? As in Coach Ken Carr?”
My eyes bug out, feeling like I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t want him to know who I am, but I can’t exactly lie to a police officer. Isn’t that like a felony or something?
“Yes, sir,” Colson interjects. “I’m sure you can understand why we may want this information kept between the two of us. For now,” he clarifies, looking over at me. The last part seems to have been spoken to us both.
“I understand.” He nods, gripping his hands onto the belt looped around his waistband. “Your secret is safe with me. Just do me a favor, will ya? If you don’t want anyone finding out, you may want to find somewhere a little more private. You know, one that doesn’t have cameras around.”
He motions with a finger to the camera hanging from the corner, just above where my car is parked, providing a perfect shot through the windows right to where we were just seated.
“Oh, crap!” I mumble to myself, ducking my head down to hide my embarrassment.
“You got it.” Colson chuckles. “We’ll be careful next time.”
Colson reaches his hand out, shaking it. Thanking him for his service and stepping back to press his hand against my lower back. Adjusting my purse on my shoulder, Colson guides me across the parking lot toward the stairwell and elevators.
“Always getting me in trouble,” he jokes.
“Me? You can hardly blame this on me.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. This time was definitely all me. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be looking to pick up where we left off real soon.”
8
Rush
All night I tossed and turned, thoughts of Sydney keeping me up. I could still smell her on my skin, and every time I’d get a subtle inhale of her scent, my mind would slip back to the look in her eyes when I traced my mouth over her soft wrist.
She’s got me out of my damn mind wanting to be close to her, touch her.
I woke up early and made breakfast, catching up on the morning news, and even went for a walk. Anything to distract me.
It was after nine when I decided to stop by her place before I left for practice. I promised her I’d be wanting to finish where we left off. I was done waiting, though. I couldn’t wait any longer.
I stood outside her door knocking in the hopes she was just getting out of the shower or was still asleep. When she didn’t answer, I decided to gather my stuff and head to practice early. I could swing by her office before practice today.
Anything to help curb my thoughts because, at this rate, I don’t think I’ll be able to focus until I see her again.
I get my bag packed and make it to the practice facility in record time. I drop my stuff off in my locker before jogging over to where the head offices are.
“Hello, may I help you?” the receptionist asks. The wall behind her desk looks like black glass with the Miami Blaze logo hanging in the center.
“Hi, yes. Is Sydney Carr available? I need to speak with her about a couple of forms I need to fill out. I have some questions about them,” I lie.
“Let me check.” She smiles, her eyes do a quick once-over before picking up the phone to call Sydney.
“Hey, Sydney,” she greets her. My heartbeat starts to pick up, knowing she’s here, on the other end of the line.
“I have a player here who’s requesting to speak with you.”
“Colson Rush,” I clarify, folding my arms as I lean over the desk.
“He said his name is Colson Rush.”
She nods her head, glancing up at me with her polite smile. Her cheeks turn rosy when she finds me staring at her intently, hoping Sydney will let me back to see her.
“I’ll send him in,” she replies cheerfully, hanging up the phone.
“You can head into her office. It’s around the corner, first door on the right.”
I don’t bother paying attention to her directions; I already know which office is Sydney’s. As soon as I round the corner to her office, she’s out of her chair standing. She looks fucking stunning dressed in a sleek, black dress, cutting off just above her knee. She’s wearing black heels, which nearly have my legs giving out at the sight of her.
Her hair is curled, pulled over one shoulder, and her lips are covered with a shiny gloss, making them look juicy and wet.
“Colson, is everything okay? She said you needed help filling out papers?”
Her brows furrow in confusion, glancing down to my empty hands, then back up to my face trying to piece together what I may need.
“I lied.” I smile, shrugging. “I went by your place this morning, and you weren’t home. I wanted to see you.”
Her eyes narrow, glancing over my shoulder, then back to me.
“Shut the door,” she states matter-of-factly.
Turning to push the door closed, she takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us. A small window frames the side of the door. Moving us out of view, she pushes me against the wall, away from anyone who might walk by and see us.
“Are you trying to keep me your dirty little secret?” I chuckle, raising my eyebrows.
“Colson,” she whispers, but it comes out more like a moan. She reaches her hand up, pulling me down to kiss her. Ah, hell, I can’t even attempt to hold myself back, not that I had any intention of trying when I showed up here.
Crouching down, I roughly run my fingers up the outside of her thighs, bringing the material of her dress with me until it’s gathered around her waist.
Pulling my head back enough to see her, I make out the red panties she’s wearing as I let out a string of curse words under my breath.
“My God, you’re gonna kill me.”
She laughs, pushing playfully on my chest.
I reach for her arm. “Hold your dress up for me,” I whisper. The humor falls from her face as she nods her head.
“Good girl.”
Her eyes flutter, adjusting her legs to give me room, knowing exactly what I want.
My fingers trace along the edge of her panties, slipping a finger under the material, brushing over her tight bud.
Her legs tremble, her eyes peering down to watch me touch her. She reaches out for me, holding onto my forearm, helping steady her.
&
nbsp; “You’re fuckin’ dripping,” I murmur.
Her chest heaves, forcing in a heavy breath from my words. My finger circles her clit, just enough to give her what she craves, before sliding lower and dipping into her pussy.
“Rush,” she pants. Something about hearing her call me by my last name turns me on more. Like she’s both urging me to hurry while referring to me by a term of endearment.
Kneeling in front of her, I press a soft kiss against her trimmed mound and run my hand up her calf skating along her inner thigh.
Her fingers grip my hair, positioning me where she wants me right in front of her pussy. Tilting my head back, I glance at her and watch her tell me without words what she wants.
She’s on the brink, and I’ve only barely touched her.
“Please,” she begs.
With a subtle nod, I pull her panties to the side and take one swipe of my tongue across her swollen bud.
Fuck. She tastes so fucking good. The combination of the desire on her face, her pussy tightening around my finger, and the taste of her sweetness has me nearly cumming in my pants.
A phone rings, and for a second, I wonder if she’s even heard it, or if she’s just choosing to ignore it. When the second ring filters through the room, she mumbles, “What is that?”
“Oh my God, the phone.”
She quickly shoves her dress down and races over to her desk, nearly tripping over her own feet, but she recovers quickly.
“He-hello,” she exhales harshly, falling into her chair, pressing her palm against her face, squeezing her eyes shut.
She sighs heavily and says, “Hi, Mom.” She’s clearly thankful the person on the other end of the phone is her mother.
She finally opens her eyes, staring back at me. She holds a finger up to me, assuring me it’ll be quick, while her eyes leisurely roam over my body.
I don’t take my eyes off her. Sydney wears her emotions clear as day on her face. It’s like opening a book, and I’m reading it word for word. Even when she tries to be closed off and hide how she’s feeling, I’m able to pull it out of her. I think this bothers her; she can’t close me out like she has everyone else.
Despite telling herself and me it’s not a good idea for us to explore this between us, I know better than to think that’s what she truly wants.
Her eyes stop where my cock is clearly straining against the front of my athletic shorts. They don’t exactly disguise my attraction to her or how badly it wishes it could be tucked in her tight pussy.
Running my hand over the front of my shorts causes her mouth to drop open when she watches me pump my dick through my shorts.
Her jaw clenches, her eyes flashing back to mine silently begging me not to do that right now. I wave my finger in the air, signaling for her to wrap up the call.
I’m playing unfairly, and we both know it.
Except this isn’t what I had in mind when I came here today. I want my head between her legs, driving her as crazy as she makes me feel.
Crossing the distance between us, I round the side of her desk and stand face-to-face with her. She leans back in her chair, phone still in her hand as she absentmindedly responds with “yeahs” and “uh-huhs.”
Kneeling on the floor once again, I reach my hand under her thighs and pull her to the edge of the seat.
She covers the mouthpiece on the phone and harshly whispers, “What are you doing?”
“I’m busy. Get back to your phone call.”
Her eyes narrow, moving her hand to say, “That sounds like a great idea.”
I chuckle, turning my attention back to what I had set my sights on. This position gives me more space to move her legs. I push her thighs open and her skirt bunches further, just enough for me to see her panties.
“It’s a damn good idea.” Holding her thighs open, I bend down to swipe my tongue over her pussy and the lace of her panties.
She shimmies enough to allow me to move her panties to the side, which gives me better access to her pussy. My eyes stare over her mound, up to her bright green eyes.
“Sounds good, Mom. I have a few things I need to get back to, but I’ll see you at dinner Saturday night.”
My tongue traces over the lips of her pussy, barely brushing her clit. Despite her staying composed on the phone, I can tell by the way her chest heaves, it’s growing more and more difficult for her.
“Alright, bye,” she huffs, slamming the phone down.
Her hand finds its way back to my head, holding me against her pussy.
“I’m so close,” she whimpers, “please.”
Pulling back, I swipe my finger over the same path I just traced. She opens her legs wider as I slip my finger inside, pumping into her once before adding a second.
“Lick it again,” she pleads while I lazily run my tongue through her folds. She shudders every time I touch her clit, but every time I do, I pull back. Teasing her, knowing each subtle touch is helping the buildup of her release.
I slow my fingers, curling them as I give in and suck on her clit, taking her by surprise.
“Holy shit, Colson,” she groans. Her body shakes, her release raking through her body as she screws her eyes shut tightly. My dick is damn near ready to rip through my fucking shorts. One touch and I’m going to end up cumming.
A few minutes pass and she finally comes down. Her eyes heavy with the aftershocks of her release as she rubs her thighs together.
Giggling, she stands while saying, “I’m going to have to go to the bathroom to clean up.”
“I’d give you a hand if I thought we wouldn’t raise suspicions.”
“I’m sure people are already starting to wonder what we’re doing in here.”
I push myself to stand as she adjusts her panties and skirt back into place. She frantically messes with her hair, attempting to put herself back to the perfectly polished woman she was when I walked in here.
“You look perfect. Knock it off.” She pauses from running her fingers through her hair, trying to figure out if I’m being serious or not.
“Do you think I’d lie to you? I know you don’t want anyone to know about us.”
“Does that bother you? You made a comment when you walked in here about me keeping you a secret. You can joke about it, but something tells me there’s some truth to it.”
“I mean, of course, I don’t want us to have to walk on eggshells or hide that we’re seeing each other. It’s only a big deal if you make it a big deal.”
“You just started with the team. I just started this job a couple of weeks ago. Don’t you understand how this could look so soon?”
“I do, but I also know it’s no one's business but ours. We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Colson…”
“Sydney…”
Two knocks rasp on the door before it swings open and her father’s larger than life personality enters.
“Syd. Colson? I didn’t expect to see you here. What’s going on?”
I turn back to Sydney, raising my eyebrows at her to hint that now’s our chance. The panic in her eyes tells me now is not the time. I also feel like I just metaphorically got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I guess I shouldn’t break it to her father we’ve been seeing each other until she is ready, especially when I have the taste of her pussy still on my lips.
Talk about an awkward situation.
“Colson just stopped in to ask me some questions about some of his tax paperwork. We were just finishing up. I actually was meaning to talk to you. Mom called about her birthday dinner on Saturday night.”
“Yes, she’s so happy to have you home. She knows how much you love Rosalina’s and their pecan pie.”
Coach turns his attention to me. “You should join us, son. After the whole purse-snatching thing in the news, we owe you dinner as a thank you for looking out for our daughter.”
“Oh, gosh, that’s really not necessary. Sydney has shared her thank yous with me already. It’s more than enough.”
> My eyes flash over to Sydney, recalling the first night she came over to my place with dinner.
“Nonsense. We insist, don’t we, Syd?”
“Of course.” She grins. I expected her to side with me, telling me it’s not a good idea. Except she looks like she’s more than on board. “Everyone deserves some of Rosalina’s pecan pie.”
Raising my eyebrow at her, I turn back to Coach and nod my head. “Well, I guess that’s decided. I’ll be there. We can ride together again, Sydney. You know, since we are both coming from the same place.”
“Perfect.” He grins.
“Well, practice is about to start, and I still need to get changed. Sydney, thank you for meeting with me. I’ll see you on the court, Coach.”
I pat him on the back as I pass by him. As soon as I know he can’t see my face, I turn toward Sydney and flash her a quick wink. Blush reddens the apples of her cheeks, as she tries to hide the grin fighting to break out across her face.
Goddamn, even when she tries to fight it, I love all the ways her body reacts to me.
9
Sydney
“Stand up and make some noise for your Miami Blaze,” the announcer sings overhead as the lights start to dim under the darkness. The crowd cheers as flames shoot out near the basketball hoops.
“What number is he again?” my friend Kaylee asks, leaning over.
“Three!” I shout back, using my finger to point out which one he is standing in the starting lineup with the spotlight shining overhead.
“Ohhhh, giiiiiirl,” she jokes. “He sure is cute!”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “He uses it to get what he wants, too.”
He bends down, stretching his legs from side to side as he reaches his arm across his chest to loosen up. My job has its perks; we were able to get third row, near the courtside. Even from here, I can see the ropes of his muscles flex with each movement. Tattoos cover the length of his arm. His tattoos paired with his deep orange jersey is a huge turn-on to me.
“Don’t act like you’re not as thirsty for it as he is,” she jokes.
“And now, for the first time on the court with the Miami Blaze, from Denver, Colorado, give it up for number three, Colsonnnn Ruuuush,” rings throughout the arena.