by Nana Malone
She smiled, nuzzling her head against his shoulder briefly, before falling asleep.
He watched her for a while, praying he didn't fuck this up.
Asha woke sometime in the middle of the night, with Dax's fingers sliding in and out of her slick core. Her back against his chest, his hard cock pressing into her ass, she gave a sigh, arched into the covers, and parted her thighs. He lifted her leg and slid along her, until he was in position to enter her once more. She winced at the initial sting, but the pain soon gave way to pleasure, as he stroked her clit. This lovemaking session was different. Slower, more tender. Like low embers giving way to an inferno.
"We really need to—" she started, then angled her body for easier, and deeper, penetration. She wound her fists into the sheets and pillows as his large hands cupped her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples.
He froze as her words sank in, and she reached back quickly to reassure him. "Don't stop. That's not what I meant. Please, God, don't stop what you were doing," she panted.
He chuckled. "We need a condom. I only meant to tease."
She froze. Condom. Yes. Holy hell. They absolutely needed one. She was on the pill to help regulate her cycle, but still. He rolled away, and before she knew it, was sliding back home again. His fingers trailed down the side of her body, tickling her ribs, on their way to the warmth between her legs right near where they were joined. "I get tested every six months, Asha but I would never risk anything with you. I slipped just now. And back at the car. I really wasn't thinking. You feel so damn good." His fingers searched for the spot that would undo her in his arms.
She nipped at his bottom lip. "We both got carried away."
Dax pressed a kiss to the side of her throat, as he pressed a finger to her clit and made her whimper.
"I thought we needed to go to back to my hotel. You know, before we get caught."
"You let me worry about that." He gently pinched her nipple and she moaned. When she canted her hips back, he slid in, hard and deep.
For once in her life, she was just going to let go. "Okay, you're in charge."
His breath tickled her ear. "I love the sound of that." His hands tightened in her hair. As he made love to her, he continued.
"I don't want to have to worry about where…and when I'm seen with you…what we're doing together," he told her, his fingers digging in deeper as he quickened his pace and brought her rapidly to the edge, pushing her over so that she cried out. "I love you, and I'm not going to stop touching you."
Asha held her breath as the words sank in. He loved her? “Dax, I—”
He shook his head. “Shhh. Let me show you how much. He kept up the pace, his erection rubbing against her G spot again and again.
"Dax," she whispered.
"Yes, princess?"
"Don't hurt me."
He paused only momentarily. "I would sooner cut out my heart. I'm not letting you go." He circled her clit again, triggering another wave of pleasure.
After falling asleep again, Asha woke with a start, and glanced at the bedside table. No alarm clock. She scrambled into a shirt she found on the bedside table. The lower hem reached her knees, and the sleeves hung down to her elbows.
"Mmm…what time is it?"
"It's almost three a.m.," she replied. "Shouldn't your parents be back from the wedding by now?" she asked, switching to a whisper. "Your brothers and sister?"
"They're probably in bed," he said with a shrug.
"Right, we should go." she said. Now, where was her underwear?
"Still waiting for the blood to get back to your brain?" Dax asked with a chuckle. "I know mine's resistant to making the journey north."
Asha laughed before moving back to the bed and folding her legs carefully beneath her. Right. Now to fix this, so they'd both make it through.
"I have to go to HR," she said. "It will be better to talk to them before the rumors get going again. To come clean on my own is my best chance of keeping my job. If I don't act like I've got something to hide, then they'll know I can be trusted. Besides, my work speaks for itself. I know I'm not the only one who's contributed to the turnaround. You guys all seem to be gelling well with the new coaches—but the way the major networks' commentators have jumped all over your plays—"
"Well, before any of that, I need to tell your brother," he muttered.
"It's none of his damn business." She didn't need her family having an explosion about this yet.
Dax cocked his head and rolled his eyes at her. "Will you get over that, already? That's not the reason I want to be the one to tell him about us."
Asha crossed her arms over her chest. She wished, once more, that she was wearing her underwear during the exchange.
"He's my best friend," Dax continued. "If he had a new girl he was crazy about, I'd like to think I'd be one of the first people he'd tell about it."
Asha's mouth twitched with the impulse to smile, but she resisted.
"I think Damon might tell his family first," she challenged.
Dax laughed at that, shattering more of her resolve. "And I'm sure he told you guys about Cindy? Brooke? What about Tabitha?"
Who the hell were those women? Asha pursed her lips.
"Look, I'd feel better if I'm the one to tell him. I know that who you sleep with is up to you, and I'm thrilled that it's me. But to Damon you're still his little sister, and he's not going to want to hear about your sex life, least of all if it comes with a lecture from you. And also, he's not going to be happy it's me. I'll take the brunt of his yelling."
Dax's hand found its way to Asha's bare leg, massaging it gently, inching higher and higher. She reached out and laid her hand over his, stopping his progress to twine her fingers with his.
"Focus," she scolded, and smacked his wandering hand.
"He's not going to think anyone is good enough for you. Especially me," Dax continued, a more somber note in his voice. "He knows me. My track record sucks. No one knows me better than Damon. Except maybe you," he amended. "But you know me now. Damon knows how I was. Everything I did in college, everything I'm…ashamed of…he doesn't just know about it, he was there. Telling him…it'll help to show him how much you mean to me."
Asha's anger dissipated. He needed to do this. She might not like it, but she understood that need. "If his approval means that much to you, tell him. But if you let him push you about breaking up with me because he doesn't want us dating—"
His brows snapped down. "I'm not giving you up without a fight. I finally get someone to want me as I am. No way I'm walking away."
"I don't want a fight," she reminded him.
"Then I'll tell him to talk to you, if he has a major problem."
"Damn right."
His brow furrowed. "But…I think we need to hold off on HR. It'll be better after the season. Then it's not on their time card, and they can't bitch too much."
"Dax, I think—"
He put up a hand. "Hear me out. You've worked so hard. The regular season is almost over. After that, we have time together."
She knew what he wasn't saying—what if this didn't work, and she'd risked everything? "But if they find out…"
"We'll be careful. On away games, video chat. At home, we'll make it work. Just give us time."
"Well…I don't want to lose my job over our relationship. I don't think I will," she said slowly and carefully. "But if it came down to one or the other…" She shrugged. "There are other jobs and I have amazing letters of recommendation in my portfolio that all explain how talented I am," she assured him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. She felt him smile beneath her lips before he turned his head to kiss her properly.
"Besides," she added, breaking away. "I spent some time chatting your folks up at the wedding. Your father seemed intrigued by some of the ideas I had for Legacy Sports. If I do get fired, I'd be willing to bet I could talk him into giving me a job with the company." She was only half kidding, but the expression on Dax's face told her he didn't like it.
"Just for a little while, until after I deal with Damon, at least. Please."
She didn't like it, but she could hold off. "Okay, but we're going to keep discussing this."
He nodded. "Of course. But first…" He shut her up with another kiss, this time laying her out on the bed while his hands slid up her haunches to her bare ass, and suddenly, she was extremely glad she wasn't wearing panties.
Twenty-One
Having a plan in place wasn't quite the same as enacting it. In the harsh light of day, the prospect of doing so had him hesitating. Damon was going to end him. But it was so fucking worth it. She was perfect.
"I don't care if your family knows about us," Asha reassured Dax. "But I'd rather not let it get out publicly."
"Have your stuff sent to the airport, then," Dax suggested, pulling on casual clothes and watching Asha's cheeks redden as she searched the floor for her underthings. He lifted the jacket of his tux from the floor and found her crumpled panties, holding them out for her until she snatched them away and turned her back to wriggle into them. "You went to a wedding and the party ended later than you expected—or the party moved, and you went with it. There are plenty of ways to explain it, so stop worrying."
He grasped her by her upper arms, holding her in place long enough to plant a kiss on her forehead.
"Relax. It'll be fine."
"And when exactly are you planning on calling Damon to let him know?" she countered.
Dax felt his stomach drop, but fought to keep his features controlled. "It's…not something I want to…over the phone," he muttered the words with difficulty. "I'd rather tell him in person. No chance of him hanging up on me, then," he said with a half-hearted laugh. Much greater chance he'll punch me in the face, though, he added to himself.
"You're going to wait another four weeks to tell him, after you guys play the Pats?" Asha's voice was skeptical and accusatory. "If I go to HR tomorrow and they give me the okay on all this, would you be willing to keep things…innocuous between us until you tell him?" she asked, slipping her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his and rising to her toes to kiss him softly, sensuously. Her fingers gripped him tightly as she slid against him in a carefully calculated manner—he could feel the rough sequins and beading of the dress' sheer top layer through the worn fabric of the T-shirt he'd thrown on—the one he'd given her to wear in bed during the night. He struggled to keep his thoughts on her question, but found his mind wandering to whether it was clusters of beads he felt or her hardened nipples—he couldn't remember whether she'd put her bra back on before slipping back into her dress. She must have—why wouldn't she?—but he slid his hands up her back, feeling for the clasp under the fabric just to be sure.
She laughed and pulled away. "I didn't think so. But we'll have to keep being discreet until you tell Damon, since you're so insistent it be you."
He watched her amusement drain as she looked at the locked bedroom door. If his family had started moving about in their morning routines he hadn't noticed, but he was immune to their noises after so many years. Honestly, he was more put off by the silence of his apartment in Jacksonville than anything. He always had something on that provided background noise.
"I know I want this," she said quietly, and he was only half sure she was talking to him and not herself. "I know I do. I just… I want to skip the next part. I’ve seen it happen with Sam. I’ve seen it happen with Damon. It's the worst part of any relationship, don't you think? At first it's just the two of you, and there's that bubble. Then you have to tell people and deal with all the 'I told you so's and the 'what're you thinking's and everyone judges your relationship, tells you whether it's a good thing or a bad thing, the right thing or the wrong thing. But after everyone knows…you don't quite get back to the bubble, but the comments and the looks…they go away. After a while everyone just…accepts it, and it can just be again."
"Okay. How about this? Just check with HR about what the policies are. Don't reveal anything. You'll be more comfortable. I just want you happy."
"Are you sure?"
Dax nodded. "Yes." Her nervous gaze was still focused on the door. "We're doing this." He walked over to it and turned the lock, then the handle, before pulling it open.
"Pop," he said, shooting her a smile.
She looked from the empty hallway to him, her expression brightening when her eyes came into focus.
"Pop," she repeated, taking a deep breath and stepping out of his room.
"Ms. Wix?" Mrs. Cusack's voice was confused, as she looked up to find Asha standing nervously before her desk. "Did we have an appointment?" The older woman began rifling through papers on her desk, searching for the datebook she used to keep track of everything.No matter how many times she entered meetings on the computer's calendars, no matter how many reminders and alerts she programmed, the only thing that she trusted completely was writing her appointments down.
"I don't have an appointment, no," Asha confessed. "I just hoped you would have a few minutes, and we could talk." Mrs. Cusack visibly relaxed.
"Well, then, what can I help you with?"
"I mostly just wanted to have a little chat, you know…" Asha had thought of so many ways to start the conversation, and she had decided the best thing to do was to just quickly say what needed to be said. Rip off the bandage, as it were. Looking down into Mrs. Cusack's inquisitive and cheerful face, Asha was too afraid of being judged by the woman.
"A chat?" Mrs. Cusack asked, leaning back in her chair the way Asha imagined a therapist might. "What would you like to chat about?"
"I just…I feel like with the switchover—all the people let go, all the new people hired, people like me—there was a lot of information being thrown around, a lot of policies and rules and 'this is how things are done,' and I was given so much stuff to read through and sign…" She could feel herself rambling and gripped her leg tightly through her skirt—dug her fingernails into the soft flesh and tried desperately not to think of the marks Dax's teeth had left there—to make herself stop. "I had some hypothetical situations that I was looking to get your opinion on—things that…might come up, or that… I just want to know what my options ar—would be. Information is power, right?" But she couldn't make herself laugh at the joke.
She couldn't decide whether Mrs. Cusack looked worried or amused by her obvious discomfort.
"You can go ahead and shut the door if you want," Mrs. Cusack advised, pushing herself up and out of her chair. "Would you care for a cup of coffee? There's muffins back here, too," she told Asha, as she waved a hand to invite her deeper into the odd configuration of offices that comprised the Human Resources department.
"Um…sure. I'll have a cup."
"Blueberry, banana nut, and chocolate chip." Mrs. Cusack waved to a plastic container where the muffins were housed, before handing Asha a cup of reinforced cardboard and directing her to the coffee pot. "I'm afraid we don't have decaf in these parts."
"Full strength is fine. So uh…about these hypotheticals…"
"Have you been, hypothetically, experiencing sexual harassment in your workplace?" Mrs. Cusack asked tactfully.
She blinked. "What? No. I mean, well, yes, but not more than I can handle or than I expected. And anyway that isn't what I wanted to—" Asha stammered, caught off guard by Mrs. Cusack's directness.
"Before I hear any of your hypotheticals," she interrupted Asha, holding up a hand, "let me take down your complaints so that we have them on record."
"But I didn't come to make any complaints," Asha objected.
Mrs. Cusack reached out a hand and gripped Asha's forearm gently, giving her a squeeze to emphasize her point. "I find it's often a good idea to make a record. Whether you mean to file a formal complaint or not. Just so they are already on the record if there is ever an issue down the road." She spoke slowly and with her eyes locked on Asha's. "It's a recommendation I make to all employees who come with questions."
But especially the female ones
. The words hung in the air, unspoken. Or at least, that's where Asha's mind went as far as finishing the sentence.
"Right… yes… instances of—got it," she nodded and watched Mrs. Cusack relax in the conviction her meaning was clear.
"Here," Mrs. Cusack said with a smile and a wave of her hand. "Have a seat and we'll get started."
"So what is this? I thought we were doing hypotheticals." Dax asked a few days later when they were able to spend some time together at Asha's apartment. He was leaning on the bar top between her minuscule kitchen and what passed for a dining area, the pages she'd received from Mrs. Cusack spread out before him.
"You have to read through it and sign it," Asha explained as she pulled glasses and plates from the cabinets. "Turns out, so long as we sign paperwork releasing the team, the administration, your coaches, my bosses, basically signing our souls away and vowing not to sue should things go south, they don't care what we do to each other in the bedroom." She grinned and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Matter of fact, given your extensive porn collection, I might be interested in spanking."
He wasn't paying attention, his brow furrowed as he read through one of the last sections again. "What's this bit here?" He held it out to her, pointing at the section in question.
"Oh, I had them put that part in. It means that we get to publicize our 'theoretical' relationship when and how we like. Basically, they can't out us to get attention for themselves, and when we do make our relationship public knowledge, all they can officially do is issue a statement saying they're aware of it," she explained. "We get to be in charge of us. No one else." She leaned across the counter to kiss him. "But I didn't give them a name. I just said if this were to ever happen, they needed that clause. I was vague. But they aren't stupid."
"Everyone's asses are collectively covered?" he asked, peeking over the counter to double-check.