Out Of Bounds (Brit Boys Sports Romance Book 3)

by J. H. Croix

  “Olivia,” I said.

  Her eyes came open slowly.

  “Come here,” I ordered as I slid my palm up her spine, exerting a subtle pressure to bring her to me. I needed to have her lips under mine when she came. I had to feel the pleasure in her kiss.

  I kept up the pace with my fingers as she leaned forward. I caught her lips just as I swirled my thumb around her swollen clit. She cried out into our kiss, her channel convulsing around my fingers. I eased away from her mouth and looked down between us. My proper Dr. Bowen had her knees wide with my fingers buried inside of her. A part of me savored the thrill of conquering this layer of her resistance, while another part of me was half-stunned at how it felt to be with her like this. There was a connection with her—burning incandescent and so hot it nearly scalded me.

  I looked to her face to find her eyes, those gorgeous green eyes, looking back at me. She looked beyond surprised, but the usual lines of tension were gone from her face. Latching onto something to keep me from wondering just what it was about her that hit me so hard, I went to the familiar. “So, Olivia, was that boring?”

  She rewarded me by narrowing her eyes and glaring at me. “No,” she replied, her tone slightly defensive.

  There was a knock on the door, and I was thankful for thinking ahead. I’d had the sense to lock the door when I stepped into the room. Olivia didn’t know that though and scrambled back, nearly kicking me out of the way. “Easy, luv. I locked the door.” I placed a hand on her hip to hold her in place.

  “You what?” she asked in a furious whisper, her eyes wide.

  “I locked the door,” I said, enunciating each word and enjoying the flush rising up her neck and cheeks.

  Speaking of her cheeks, she put both hands on them and shook her head. “I can’t believe you.” She took a gulp of air and called out, letting her hands fall as she did. “Be right there.” Her eyes swung to me again, snapping. “You need to move,” she ordered in a stern whisper.

  “Right then.” I reached up to pull her panties back in place before stepping back with a grin.

  She shimmied her hips off the table and straightened her skirt. Walking to the door, she paused beside it, her body radiating tension from the back. After gulping breath, she opened the door.

  A few minutes later, I walked outside into another drizzling afternoon. I was rock hard with need and pleased as punch. I could wait endlessly to bury my cock inside Olivia if I had more interludes like that.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia

  I closed the door to my office and leaned against it with a shaky sigh. It had been a mere hour since Liam had left, and I’d barely recovered. Every step I took, I could feel my thighs rub together and the damp silk between them. He’d brought me to the most explosive orgasm I’d ever had—right here, at work. Of all the stupid things I’d thought I could do, letting some internationally famous soccer star make me lose my mind during an examination was dead last on the list. My body was still reverberating from those heated moments, little shocks of pleasure pinging through me. Just thinking of it now made me wet again. If he walked into this room with me right now, I knew exactly what I wanted—him inside of me. Because he’d only given me a taste of what it could be like with him and it might damn me straight to hell, but I wanted more and I wanted it so badly, I could hardly stand it. My channel throbbed and a flush ran through my body.

  I shoved away from the door and walked to my desk. By some miracle, I’d gotten through my next two appointments. I was relieved to finally have a few minutes to myself. I sank into the chair at my desk and clicked my computer on. Some dry, boring billing notes might get my mind off of Liam. I was a few minutes into typing up a report when my phone vibrated. I slipped it out of my pocket, glanced down at the screen and gasped.

  Hello luv. What kind of complications would I need to have for another appointment with you?

  I didn’t recognize the number, but I knew without a doubt it was Liam. Who else would text me something like that? I had no idea how he’d gotten my personal number and certainly no idea what to do about it. I’d spent much of the afternoon torn between the depth of my desire for him and the need to regain control of my life. My God. I was putting my professional career on the line, all over a man. All I could think about was when I could see him again. I’d spent the last hour swinging between the poles of a raw, burning need I’d never experienced—ever—in my life, and berating myself for throwing my sanity and ethics out the window by giving into the madness he elicited inside. I couldn’t let myself do this. It was insanity, pure and simple.

  There is no need for an appointment with me. You’re in good hands with the PT team.

  Excellent. Let’s have dinner.

  My cheeks were hot and all I could think about was the feel of his fingers inside me. No dinner. We could not do dinner. I couldn’t be around him because he made me completely insane.

  No thank you.

  I forced myself to immediately turn my phone off after that and turned back to writing up my reports for the week. The next few hours were the most inefficient use of time I’d ever experienced. I was like an engine that wouldn’t turn over. I’d try to start writing and get about two or three sentences in and then look down at my phone, it’s screen dark. The urge to turn it back on was beating like a drum, meanwhile I was still wet and could hardly think straight because of it. All these years I’d dismissed sex as a pointless endeavor unless you wanted to have kids. What couldn’t have been more than ten minutes with Liam’s lips and hands on me and my indifference to pleasure had been shattered spectacularly. He’d shaken me to the core.

  I spun in my chair and looked out the windows over the skyline of Seattle. Lights sparkled in the night sky. I took a slow breath and finally gave up on pointlessly working. I’d go home and start fresh tomorrow. Surely by then, I’d get a grip on my body.

  A short while later, I walked into my apartment. I lived a few blocks down the street from the clinic. It had never even crossed my mind to consider living further away. I was so work focused, I simply wanted the convenience. I kicked my shoes off by the door and hung up my dripping raincoat before walking into the kitchen and putting the kettle on for tea. My apartment was in an upper floor of small building with rather quaint apartments. The kitchen wasn’t much more than an alcove off the living room through a small archway. The entire apartment had hardwood floors and tall, arched windows, which let in ample light even on rainy days. That said, I was rarely home during the daytime, except on weekends.

  I padded through the living room to my bedroom, quickly changing into a pair of soft fleece pants and a sweatshirt. It was early autumn in Seattle, which meant chilly weather. The radiators grumbled slightly when I turned up the heat on my way back into the kitchen. I heated leftovers in the microwave and settled on the couch with my laptop and my tea while I absently nibbled on my food. With the television rumbling in the background, I reviewed referrals. One of the luxuries of my job was the option to take or refuse cases. There were only a few exceptions to this. For example, Liam. Under no circumstances would the clinic turn down a high-profile case such as his.

  Even though I experienced pangs of conscience over how much money we charged our patients, one thing I loved at the clinic was that the medical team would refer cases out to other specialists if they thought the injury in question required expertise we didn’t have. We tended to focus more on joints, while there were a few other specialists nationally who were better suited for spinal injuries.

  After a few chart reviews, I zapped off emails to the referral team regarding the cases in question. I tried to dig into some research we were doing on recovery times for different ACL repair procedures, but my mind kept wandering to Liam. With a sigh, I closed my laptop and started flipping through the channels, hoping to find something to nudge my mind out of its unsettled state. My cozy apartment with its comfy loveseat and ottoman and cheerful purple throw rugs felt lonely just now. It wasn’t that I had no
friends. Daisy was my dearest friend, and we had a small circle of friends that occasionally got together. My aunt was the only family I had to speak of, but we rarely saw each other. She lived in a small town roughly an hour outside of Seattle in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. With my nearly relentless work schedule, I had precious time to drive out to visit her.

  I couldn’t pin down what it was, but something about Liam elicited this odd loneliness. I didn’t like it. He made me want things I’d never wanted. For starters, another bone-melting orgasm would be just fine. It wasn’t only that though. He was funny and sly and watching him with Alex let me know he was a good friend. As much as he projected a teasing, devil-may-care attitude, it was clear he had more depth to him than.

  I stood up abruptly, restless with the disquiet I felt inside. I left the TV on because I didn’t want to hear the echoing silence around me and walked into the bathroom to fill the tub. That’s what I’d do. I loved baths. They were one of the few things that helped me unwind when I was tired and stressed. A few minutes later, I sank into the steaming hot water with a sigh. I rested my head against the tile wall and let the heat seep through me. Once I was warm all the way through, I grabbed the soap, quickly sliding it everywhere to wash the day away. When the bar of soap slid between my thighs in the course of cleaning, my mind and body flashed back to the feel of Liam’s fingers working their magic. That was it. All it took was no more than a second, and I was hot all over and my channel throbbed.

  Today had been eye opening in more ways than one. I’d meant it emphatically when I said sex was boring. Because it had been. Until Liam got a hold of me. We hadn’t even technically had sex, but I knew beyond even the thought of a shadow of doubt that going further with him would be unlike anything I’d ever imagined. I nearly threw the soap into its dish and splashed water on my face. Nothing nudged my mind off the madness Liam elicited though, so I climbed out of the tub and ran my wrists under cold water, a quick trick to cool the body down. I supposed I did cool off, but when I was lying in bed, I could feel the pulse of my channel and the slick heat there.

  Chapter 9

  Liam

  I rolled up one last time and rested my head on my knees, my breath coming in steady heaves. I’d just finished a round of one hundred sit-ups.

  “Well, your knee hasn’t affected your stamina a bit,” Tim Maxwell commented from beside me.

  I lifted my head and snagged a towel on the mat. Wiping my face, I looked over at him. “Definitely not. Never thought I’d be bloody happy to grind through sit-ups, but it feels damn good to finally put some work into something.”

  Tim flashed a grin. He was my assigned physical therapist and was basically my shadow whenever I was in the gym. The clinic offered physical therapy on site and off. I opted for both because I wanted to make sure I didn’t do something stupid when I was with the team for workouts, and I also wanted any chance I could get to encounter Olivia at the clinic. I leaned back on my hands and looked over at Tim. “Anyone ever mention you might as well be the model for that American doll? What the hell is it called?” I asked.

  Tim flashed another grin, showing off his nearly perfect pearly whites. With his blonde hair, he was a dead ringer. “You must mean the Ken doll. My boyfriend teases me about looking like that all the time. I keep telling him my eyes are brown, not blue.”

  I rolled onto my hip and pushed myself to standing. “I bet he bloody well does.” I snagged a bottle of water and gulped some down before looking back to Tim who’d stood up with me. “What now?”

  “Let’s get you onto the treadmill,” he said, gesturing for me to follow as he headed over a row of exercise machines.

  We were at the clinic, so I wasn’t as familiar with the equipment here. My gut coiled with slight anxiety. I was torn inside about how to feel as I’d gotten started with my physical therapy. On the one hand, I was in a blazing hurry to be fully recovered. On the other hand, I was dealing with an unfamiliar anxiety about not pushing my knee too far or too fast. I didn’t want to blow my recovery by getting impatient. I hated the anxious feeling because anxiety wasn’t something I experienced often, especially when it came to playing.

  I ignored the feeling and followed Tim. He stopped by one of the machines and glanced back at me. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes scanning my face. “Are you in any pain?”

  “Nah. I’m fine. I, ah… Well, are you sure my knee’s ready to try running?” I finally asked.

  Tim leaned his shoulder on the machine and nodded. “You could run right now, but we’re only starting with some walking today. I’d like you to pick up your pace a little. This machine is almost a combo treadmill and elliptical. It’s got a much lower swing than most ellipticals, but it takes the weight off your stride unlike a treadmill.” He paused, his gaze considering. “I’d be nervous if I were you, but I promise I wouldn’t suggest it if you weren’t ready. You’re a world-class athlete and you need this recovery to succeed. It will. Also, don’t forget going too slow can hamper your recovery as well. We need your muscle memory to hold and prevent your muscles from trying to accommodate for the injury.”

  My logical brain knew every word Tim said made sense, but it didn’t erase my trepidation. I took a deep breath and nodded. I was beyond relieved that Tim and I got along. I’d liked him the first time I met him. He didn’t hesitate to push me, but he was gracious and supportive. I’d been lucky so far in my years of playing and had yet to deal with physical therapy, but I’d heard about it from teammates. Ethan Walsh, another of my mates to be sent here from Britain, had suffered through a torn ACL last year and referred to his PT guy as his physical terrorist. I was bloody relieved to click with Tim and trust him. With that in mind, I followed his guidance and stepped onto the machine. He showed me how to adjust the speed and a few other settings and got me started.

  A short while later, I walked out of the changing room, relieved to have easily gotten through the fast-paced walking Tim had me start. It felt so painless, I’d tried to persuade him I should step it up to an actual running speed. He’d firmly declined with a roll of his eyes. Another thing I liked about him was he had no problem standing up to me.

  I paused in the area where the hallways intersected at the clinic. Olivia’s office was down a hall to my left, while her usual examination room was down a different hall to the right. She’d been ignoring my texts, so I was driven to find her, so driven it should have rattled me. I kept telling myself it was about sex because that was the easy answer to my attraction to her. It wasn’t that sex wasn’t part of the equation, but more that there was a part of me drawn to her on such an elemental level, it struck me at my core. I glanced from left to right and back, contemplating my best option to see her. I settled on going to her office because there would be no one else to navigate there. If I went to the area where the examination rooms were, I’d have to check in with the receptionist, and I knew there might be questions because I didn’t have an appointment. I also had no reason for an appointment. Knowing Olivia’s tendency to be proper, I didn’t want to give her more reason to push me away much as it went against my grain. I bloody loved getting under her skin like that. Not because I thought it was the least bit improper, but because I liked seeing her riled, and I oddly liked when she tried to hold onto her prim and proper side.

  I reached the door to her office. The usual me would boldly open the door and step inside. I wasn’t confident she’d be there, but I felt a thread of uncertainty inside. I wasn’t used to wanting someone so much. It wasn’t just the physical desire, but that I wanted to see her smile, to see the tight lines of her face soften and to hold her close. I shifted my shoulders and almost turned away, but the pull was too strong. I rapped quickly on the door and was surprised to hear her call for me to come in. Well, she didn’t know it was me just yet. As I reached for the doorknob, my entire body tightened in anticipation and a curl of happiness rolled through me. I didn’t know what it was about her, but it was pure joy to be around her
.

  I opened to door and stepped through, closing and locking it so quickly I hoped she wouldn’t notice. Olivia hadn’t even looked up. She was seated in a chair at her desk, leaning forward to read something on her screen. A few curls had fallen loose from the knot atop her head. I itched to walk over and untie that knot and run my hands through her silky curls. I took a few steps into the room, wondering when she’d notice me. I was at her desk by the time she did. She clicked something on her keyboard and spun in her chair to glance up. Her gorgeous green eyes widened and a flush rose on her cheeks.

  “Liam. I, um…” She paused and bit her lip, which sent a jolt of lust straight to my groin. She gave her head a shake, which sent another curl unspooling to dangle along her cheek. “I didn’t know you were stopping by,” she finally said after a few beats.

  She surprised me by standing up and coming around the desk. Crossing her arms, she leaned her hip against the desk and pinned her eyes on me, her expression going all serious and stern. I loved it.

  “You haven’t replied to my texts,” I said by way of greeting.

  Olivia’s mouth tightened further, but her cheeks flushed a lovely cherry red. “Liam, we can’t…” Her words trailed off and she looked straight at me. “You know I can’t do this! You’re my patient and you’re a crazy famous soccer star. What do you want with me anyway? You can have your pick of women.”

  She stood maybe three feet away from me. I closed the distance in two strides and stopped just in front of her. Her scent drifted to me, a hint of honey and sweetness. My cock hardened. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not your patient anymore. If I was, I’d have an appointment with you, and you know I don’t.” I paused to gauge her response and was satisfied to see her eyes narrow, but she didn’t say a word. “As for the rest, that’s nonsense. I’m just a man and I want you. Only you.”