Out of Bounds(30)

“Love the way your sweet * grips me,” he growls, and I gasp from the lovely smut that falls from his mouth.

Then, with one hand kneading a breast, he drops the other between my legs. He finds my clit, and he rubs. The sensations make me moan. Make me groan. Make me cry out in wild, thrilling pleasure.

And before I know it, my words are as wild as his. As base and as dirty.

Fuck me.

I’m begging you.

Harder. Deeper.

Love your cock so far in me.

Fuck me harder. Please, f*ck me harder.

His groans turn carnal. Animalistic. We become a hot, wild thing, a smashing of sweaty, greedy bodies, and I’m nothing but desire and the wish to come. As my muscles tense, pleasure erupts everywhere in me. There’s no part of me that’s untouched by this climax that simply consumes me. “Oh God, it’s so good, so good, so good.”

And on my twentieth so good, he pulls out, flips me over, and positions me on all fours on my couch. He gets behind me and slides back inside.

Talk about deep.

This man fills me and stretches me like I’ve never been stretched before. He’s so far inside, I swear I’m feeling him in new places. But it all seems like heaven as he clasps his hands on my ass and punches his hips, pounding me.

That’s what this is. It’s the lashing of rain against a window. Like a wild storm. Like thunder. Like the ocean waves crashing into the shore. And I want that wave. I want to fall under it, feel all of it.

“Fuck, Dani. So f*cking good. I’m gonna come so hard.”

Knowing he’s reached the edge is all I need to find it again. Another orgasm rattles through my body as he comes inside me, and I join him in that sweet land of ecstatic bliss, our moans and groans layering on top of each other in the soundtrack to our first time.

Soon, we collapse in a sweaty heap on my couch, and he smothers my neck in kisses again. Then my cheek, then my ear. “Hey you.”

“Hey you.”

“We’re going to do that again soon, right?”

“We better.”

“I need to warn you. I have a big appetite, so I’m gonna need a lot of sex. Because I love f*cking you,” he says, his voice husky. Then, he takes a beat, looks into my eyes, and says, “And I’m also totally falling for you.”

And there’s little better than this. Sex with the person you’re falling for. The dopey smile on my face matches his. “I’m falling for you too.”





Chapter Twelve

Drew

I open the door to leave my apartment on Saturday morning, and do a double take.

Jason stands outside, fist poised to knock.

“Dude, what’s up? I need to head to the stadium for the walk-through,” I say, since today is all about reviewing the strategy and playbook for tomorrow. We have a chance to make it five in a row when San Francisco comes to town.

“Just this little thing known as a meeting.” He taps his watch. “I was at the coffee shop down the block waiting for you, man. To talk about Qwench and some other stuff that I’m looking into. But you didn’t show. What’s up?”

I drag a hand through my hair. “Right. Shit. Sorry. I forgot.”

He jerks his head, and gives me a quizzical look. “That’s not like you. But that’s why I texted to see what was up. You didn’t get my texts?”

“Um,” I say, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. Truth was I was messaging Dani for the last twenty minutes. “Must have missed it.”

“Just like you missed it a few nights ago when I told you I was working on some new deals for you?” He arches an eyebrow. Jason’s a chill dude, and he’s rarely ruffled. But there’s a fine layer of irritation coming through loud and clear in his tone.

“Sorry, man. Been a crazy week.”

After holding back for what felt like forever, Dani and I have made up for lost time. I’ve seen her every night after practice, and hell, every night it gets better and hotter and longer.

“You getting enough sleep?” he asks, his protective side out in full force.

“Yeah, totally,” I say, because it’s true. I know myself. Know my body.

“Good. You’ve always needed a solid eight hours.”

I do the math. Last night I clocked exactly eight. I give him a thumbs-up. “I’m getting it, man. I’m getting it.”

“Good. And I’m guessing you missed my message this morning because you were busy texting with the woman as soon as you woke up?”

I look down, then back up. Why do I feel guilty for missing his messages? Maybe because I’ve kind of been missing shit all week. But that’s what happens in the early days of a relationship, right? You can’t get enough of each other, and all I’ve wanted to do for the last week has been to play ball, and then to play with her.

So that’s all I’ve done.

“Yeah,” I say, admitting the truth.

He claps me on the shoulder. Squeezing harder than I expect. “Glad you’re into her, man. Just . . . you know.”

I cock my head to the side. “You know, what?”

He taps his temples. “Just keep your focus.”

I clench my teeth, then answer him. “I am all focus. I’m pretty much made of focus. And right now, let’s focus on Qwench. Because here’s the thing. I don’t think this company is a good fit.”