“Doc, you’re way too wrapped up in your job. There are other things in life.”
Looking annoyed, she crosses her arms. “Gee, I had no idea.”
Smartass. “Sex with me is fun. Isn’t that worth something?”
She looks at me dead center. “It’s worth something. Not everything.”
Over the next few days, she keeps putting me off. I try to arrange another appointment at my house, and she claims she’s booked. I text her to see how she’s doing, and she says fine and nothing else. I send her another dick pic—and this one’s a work of art, let me tell you—and she doesn’t even bother to answer.
Finally I ask her if she can meet me at the stadium while the team is there for practice, and this time I get a confirmation.
Fine. If that’s the way she wants to play it, I’m game.
So when she comes to meet me in the locker room, I’m naked except for a tiny hand towel that I can barely wrap around my waist. Basically my entire ass is hanging out, and the towel is secured by a super small knot in the back and whatever support it’s getting from my junk. “Precarious” doesn’t even cover it.
“Hi!” I say to her, and her face goes bright red.
“Why do you keep doing this?” Her voice is low, even though she and I are the only people in the locker room at the moment. Though anyone could walk in at any time—a fact I’m all too aware of. The possibility of getting caught adds to the fun.
“Doing what?” I spread both arms as I ask the question, and she winces as if she thinks the towel is going to pop off at any second. Which, to be honest, it just might.
“Trying to embarrass me.”
“Why would you be embarrassed?” I turn to grab my water bottle out of the locker, deliberately showing her my bare ass. “It’s not like you haven’t seen all this before.” I turn back. “Touched it. Had it inside you.”
She glances back and forth as if she thinks somebody might be listening. “Stop it, Sherwood.”
“What’s wrong?” I hesitate, reading her face. “Is that why you wanted to meet here?” I’ve done this math already, but I want to see what she says about it. Plus I’m irritated she’s pushing me away. I thought we had something going, even if it was just going to be a fling. I like flings. Flings are fun.
“What do you mean?” Her face is still bright red, so I’m pretty sure I’m barking up the right tree.
“You wanted to meet here because you’re afraid if we meet at my place, we’ll end up fucking. Again.”
She takes a step closer, still acting like she thinks there might be somebody else in the locker room. “Will you keep it down?” she hisses.
I don’t keep it down. I keep talking in a normal tone of voice. I like seeing her flushed and flustered. It turns me on. Which might make it easier to keep the towel in place. Or might make it fall right off. I’m not sure which is the more likely scenario.
“So you think if we’re here there’s no way we’ll have sex? Do you not remember the other day in the hot tub?”
“We didn’t have sex in the hot tub.”
“We came damn close.” I take a step toward her and reach for her elbow, but she jerks back.
“Austin, please. Put some clothes on. Anybody could walk in and see us in here and if they do, they might jump to conclusions. I don’t need that right now.”
I wonder if maybe she had another run-in with somebody at work. I really need to find out who in her office is giving her shit and do something about it. Like punch the guy in the teeth.
“Okay, fine.” I turn back to the locker and pull out a pair of underwear. Without warning her to turn around, I shed the towel and pull on the briefs. They’re black, made of some kind of stretchy Lycra shit. With those on, I might as well be naked. They’re the kind of material that’s so tight you can tell if a guy’s circumcised if you look close enough.
Right now I’m about three-quarters hard, and you can damn near see the veins on my dick outlined against the Lycra. Chloe gives me a hard look right at my cock, which gets me to about seven-eighths.
“This isn’t what I meant,” she says, looking back into my face.
“I’m covered,” I tell her. I snap the elastic waistband, getting it into a more comfortable position.
She rolls her eyes and wheels around. That’s more like it. Chloe’s at her best when she’s pissed off and just doing her best to deal with my bullshit.
“We’re going to the hot tub,” she announces.
It’s pretty obvious when we get to the training room that the hot tub isn’t hot anymore. In fact, it’s been transformed into an ice bath. I take one look at it and give her my best “oh how you have betrayed me” look.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Her grin is far too pleased. Now I know what it’s like to be on the other end of that smug satisfaction. I don’t like it.
“Get in,” she says. “It’ll help. I promise.”
It’s not like it’s my first time in an ice bath, but it’s been a while, and I’ve never liked them. She’s right, though—sometimes it’s the best medicine. Steeling myself, I slide into the water, closing my eyes as the pain of the sheer iciness of it soaks in.
“So much for my great hard-on,” I mutter.
She laughs, but she’s gone red again.
I sit for a few minutes. Once I get used to the cold, it’s not so bad, and the pain in my lower back and my wrenched leg start to fade.
Finally Chloe says, “Is that better? Is there some improvement?”
“Yeah, it’s great,” I manage through chattering teeth. Then I swallow, get ahold of myself, and add, “It’s not nearly as good as that special therapy I got last time, though.”
Her teeth clack together as she clenches them in irritation. “That’s not going to happen again, Sherwood. I’m a professional. I can’t afford to be slipping up like that.”
I give her a narrow look. “I think it will happen again. I think you want it to happen again.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why do you keep looking at my dick like you want to lick it?”
She goes flame-red again and her brows draw together. “Stop it, Austin.”
I stand in the water; I’ve had about as much as I can take, and I know from experience that staying past a certain point doesn’t have any additional benefit.
“You do. You keep staring at it.” I glance down. “I mean, not much to stare at right now because of the cold, but I know we could get things raring to go again if we cooperated a little.”
I step out of the tub and grab a towel, scrubbing the cold off my belly and thighs. It’s going to be a while before I feel warm again. Especially with Chloe giving me that look. That look would have shriveled my balls even if I weren’t in an ice bath. And it’s not even an angry look. It’s just really, really serious and super intense.
“What?” I ask her, shivering and feeling like I’m a little kid who just came in from building snow forts. I can’t feel my toes. Or my dick. That can’t be good.
“What happened last time…” Oh, here we go. “It was fun and all, but it was a mistake. It can’t happen again.”
I should be able to just shrug that off, but for some reason I can’t. “Did somebody say something to you at work?”
She shakes her head sharply. “No, but you know it’s just a matter of time. Somebody will find out, and best case is that they take me off your case. Which would completely trash my reputation in the practice. Worst case, I lose my job.”
I study her face. She won’t meet my gaze. There’s more to this, and I’m pretty sure I know what it is.
“You’re worried about more than just your job.”
Her eyes flick back and forth again. I don’t know who she thinks might be here—it’s just her and me, and I’m sure that’s why she had us meet here in the first place. “Isn’t that enough?”
I move closer to her, trying to crowd her against the wall where it meets the side of the
tub. “It’s enough. I’m just saying it’s not everything. What else is bothering you?”
“I don’t think I’m required to answer that question.”
“Of course you’re not.” I make a show of giving it some thought, then move even closer. She’s got nowhere else to go unless she ducks under my arm. She doesn’t. “Let me tell you, then.”
“How can you tell me? You don’t know.”
“No, I think I do.” I set my hand against the wall, effectively caging her into the corner.
“Enlighten me then.” Her eyes are hard, arms crossed over her chest, her mouth in an angry line. But I can see something else under the hardness. She’s going to break if I move her just the right way. She’s so ready to let go of all this garbage she’s been bottling up all this time.
“I’m not Mason Carter. I’m not going to fuck you over like that.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no way I can know that.”
“I just told you.”
“I can’t trust you. You’re…” She trails off.
“A football player?” I’m genuinely angry by now. She keeps blowing me off just because she’s got this idea of what I am, and it’s not even close. Yeah, I sleep around—or I used to before Chloe showed up—but I don’t tell a girl one thing and then do another. I sure as hell don’t throw them under the bus like Carter did.
“We’re not all the same, Chloe. Just like all physical therapists aren’t paragons of selflessness who only want to make the world a better place. Some PTs are assholes. I think maybe you work with at least one who would fit that description. And not all football players are assholes. Mason Carter? Ginormous fucking asshole. And not just to you.”
“I don’t—” she starts, at the same time trying to duck under my arm. I don’t let her.
“Look at me.” She looks, instead of focusing on everything except me like she’s been doing up to now. “Look me right in the eye.”
I don’t say any more until she steadies her gaze on me with an exasperated sigh.
“Okay, you keep looking at me, Doc. I’m going to say some shit, and I want you to know I’m telling you the truth.”
“Fine.” Still, her eyes slide a bit to the side. I jostle her, reminding her of what she’s supposed to be doing.
“You are probably the best PT I’ve ever worked with.” Her mouth drops open and I can tell she’s about to say something. “Hush,” I say before she can form words. “Hear me out.”
She nods, so I continue. “I’ve been hurt before—did some shit to my ACL last year, broke a rib the year before that. I’ve worked with doctors and PTs before, and you really know your shit. If I’d known you were working for that practice earlier, I would have requested you a long time ago.”
Again, she tries to talk. This time I lay a finger of my free hand across her lips. “Not done. What I’m saying is, if there’s anybody who can get me sorted out before the playoffs are over, it’s you.”
“I don’t think—”
“You really don’t understand this whole ‘hush up till I’m done talking’ thing, do you?”
She shakes her head. I can tell she’s softening again. Which is pretty much the opposite of what I’m doing.
“Look, Chloe. I want you to keep being my PT. I also want to…pursue extracurriculars. You get what I’m saying?”
She says nothing. I roll my eyes. “You can answer the question.”
“Okay, yes, I get what you’re saying. But I don’t think—”
“I said you could answer the question. I didn’t say you could keep talking after that.”
“Prick.”
“Yes,” I tell her, and I reach for one of her hands and draw it down between my legs. “Right here, Doc.”
I’m almost—but not quite—surprised when she shoves her hand down the front of my tight Lycra shorts. Her fingers wrap around my cock, which is perking up quite nicely after the indignity inflicted by the ice bath. Still, her hand is so warm in comparison it almost feels scalding. Her other hand yanks the shorts down a little farther to give her better access. She squeezes tight until I actually flinch.
“Easy there, Doc,” I murmur, and she squeezes tighter until I wonder if I’m going to have to forcefully unwrap her fingers. But then she starts moving her hand.
Her eyes are still locked on mine, and I see the flicker of anger in them brighten and then change to something else. Yes, she’s still mad. But she’s going to take it out on me, and yeah, I’m going to like it. A lot. I let out a groan that I make no effort at all to hold back.
“Shhhh,” she admonishes, but she doesn’t stop working me.
“God, Chloe. Don’t stop.”
I’m being loud, and I don’t care. She’s got a way with her fingers that for some reason I didn’t expect. I mean, I know she likes sex—she’s demonstrated that pretty clearly over the last few weeks. She just doesn’t want to admit to liking sex with me. But this is sheer talent.
Her hand is tight and clever, the grip varying with each stroke. One time she’s grasping me so tightly I’m not sure I can stand it, and the next her fingers are looser, sliding over the head of my dick, making firecrackers go off behind my eyes.
“Wow, Chloe. I had no idea… You’ve got mad skills, Doc.” My hands are clenching the edge of the tub.
“Stop it,” she hisses. “Stop it or I’ll stop.”
“No, you won’t.” Of course she doesn’t. “You’re too dedicated to your work, and this is making me feel so much better, I can’t even tell you.”
Her fist twists on my shaft, and I let out another hissed exclamation. She pumps me again, faster now, and shifts her other hand to my balls.
I lean forward and kiss her. She’s still half-pinned in the corner, so she can’t really get away unless she makes a concerted effort. Right now the only concerted efforts she’s making involve jacking me off. It’s getting close to time for practice to be over, which means the guys who are running drills on the field right now could start traipsing back in any minute. Okay, probably not for at least ten or fifteen minutes yet, but still.
I don’t want her to know that. I don’t want to ask her if she took note of the actual practice schedule before she made this appointment. I don’t want to do anything that could remind her that we could get busted here, with her hand on my cock and my tongue down her throat.
Her thumb slides over the head of my cock now with each firm pull of her fingers, and her other hand has engulfed my balls. I’m so close to the edge—
She bites my lip. Hard. And that’s the thing that shoves me right over. I grunt as I pour cum all over her hands, the sound so loud it’s almost a shout. The pulses come one after the other, fast and hard, pure pleasure knotting itself up at the base of my spine.
I grab her hair with one hand and pull her down for another deep, intense kiss, using the other hand to ease my shorts back into place.
“Your turn.”
She pulls back. “What?”
“Your turn.” I reach between her legs, feeling the heat there through her trousers. “I want my face right here.”
“I don’t think—”
“I don’t want you to think. I want you to find a horizontal surface, take your pants off, and lie down.”
“Austin—”
“Look.” I kiss her again to get her attention. When I’m done, she’s staring up at me with blown pupils and her parted lips a little swollen. “I owe you one. I’m going to pay up.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.” I glance around the room, looking for a good place for her to sit or lie down so I can have full access to her pussy. I can almost taste her already. And damn, I want this. Any other woman, I’d be happy to take what I can get and let her go on her way if that’s what she wants. But not Chloe. I want to see her falling apart while my tongue stabs into her. I want to taste her juices pouring into my mouth. I want—
“There.” I point toward a weight bench near the back wall.
The black padded seat will be perfect for her, and there are handholds above it where she can anchor herself while I work on her.
“On the weight bench?” She seems hesitant.
“Yeah. Look at it. Perfect place. Trust me.” I pick her up before she can protest and carry her over to it, then plop her down. “Pants off.”
“Practice is over pretty soon, isn’t it?”
Shit. I knew she’d figure that out sooner or later. “We’ve got some time yet.” Which isn’t a lie. We do have some time. Just not a lot of it.
She still seems hesitant, so I go to my knees in front of her, pressing my face between her breasts. “Think about it, Chloe. My face between your thighs. My tongue in your pussy. I’ll have you screaming so hard… I want you to come all over my tongue.”
This gets a low moan out of her. I reach for the button of her trousers, and she doesn’t protest as I unfasten it. Next comes the zipper. If she really wants to put up a fight, she won’t lift her hips to let me slide the pants down her legs.
She lifts her hips.
I drop her trousers and then her panties all the way down to her ankles, then slide one foot out so I can open her legs. My hands slide up her thighs, seeing the dampness that has spread there already. She’s so wet I can smell it, and when I move my face closer, the heat off her is like a furnace.
She jumps when I touch her with my tongue. I chuckle into her folds and she grabs my hair with both hands. All right then. None of this tentative stuff. I shove my face between her legs and go to town.
She tastes of need and sex and pure woman. I could do this forever, just basking in the flavor and the scent of her as it washes over my face. Her clit is hard and hot as I flick it, and then press it with the tip of my tongue. She starts to squirm, as if she can barely stand the contact. The insides of her thighs are shivering. I know we only have so much time, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste even a couple of seconds glancing up to check the clock.
Her fingers dig into my hair, her nails scratching my scalp. “God, Austin. Austin. We can’t—”
Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 12