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“Chase! Out of the water!” My head couch whacked me over the head with a rolled up piece of paper. His way of signaling he needed a one-on-one.
Over to the side, he grilled me. Was I trying to prove something? What kind of stunt was I trying to pull, going at it full-throttle the week before the games?
“Coach, I swear, I’m at around 60 percent.”
He looked at me like maybe I’d grown another head. And then he noticed something. “You’re not even breathing hard.”
I nodded in agreement. See, I was telling the truth! “I’m not messing with you. I’m dialed way back.”
And then coach did something I hadn’t seen that often in the last few years I’d been working with him. He looked at me and he smiled.
Giving me a light smack on the arm, he said, “I think next week’s going to be a good week.”
“I think so, too.” I was seeing gold dance before my eyes. And from the look in his, he was seeing the same thing.
Satisfied that I was, indeed, experiencing that famed surge in performance all athletes sought before a crucial competition, he quit yelling at me and instead pulled out my free relay team members for a strategy session. So much strategy in Atlanta, so many meetings. Team-building, dry land stretching sessions, coach was even making us do yoga that afternoon, all part of his integrated mind/body philosophy.
The good part about our session in the afternoon was Emma and a few other of the physical therapists would be joining us. The bad part was that Emma would be near me and I wouldn’t be able to touch her.
We were keeping things private, for now. I knew we weren’t doing anything wrong. We were two consenting adults who happened to meet each other in a professional context. That happened every day. And I was glad that she agreed, what we had between us couldn’t be denied.
But we both knew we couldn’t walk around the hotel holding hands and making out in stairwells like it was high school. There was a chance she’d be fired if management found out. I doubted it would happen, even though it was clearly written into her contract—termination at any point for unprofessional conduct. But I also knew I was a highly prized asset to the team. It didn’t give me impunity, but they would at least think twice about sending away one of the most crucial members of my crew. Which was why I’d felt comfortable walking around Atlanta holding hands with her last night.
But, when we were in a room with our teammates, it made sense to keep it on the down low. Which meant that during our yoga session, Emma stood on the other side of the room. Probably smart. If she’d stood next to me I couldn’t have resisted touching her.
But that also meant that a prat like Chris could sit right next to her and flirt his ass off. It was hard enough for me to balance in Eagle pose, wrapping one leg around the other with my arms intertwined and raised in prayer position. When I was pissed off about Chris finding bullshit excuses to touch her and then seeing her laugh at his stupid wisecracks? No, I was not one with my inner eagle.
I had another goddamned interview after yoga, but I had something I had to do first. I let Emma leave the room and head down the hallway, still chatting with Chris, the blond Ken doll. The hall happened to lead to a few rooms used for physical therapy. I stopped in front of one of them and made sure it was unlocked.
“Emma, could I talk to you for a second?”
She turned around at my voice and excused herself. Chris gave me a look like he thought I was a possessive fucker. Yeah, you got that right. I met his stare with one of my own.
I closed the door behind us and folded Emma into my arms, crushing my lips to hers. My match lit her flame and she threw herself at me, arms flung around my neck, legs wrapped around my waist, climbing me like a tree. Clumsy, I grabbed her ass and stumbled back into the door, drunk on our combined lust.
She ground against me, a low moan in her throat, her hand working its way down to my cock, pressing hard against my athletic shorts.
“Chase, I know we said…” She lunged in to kiss me again, her tongue licking, seeking mine, until she could manage to break away again. “I know we said we’d wait. But I don’t think I can.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, knocking my head against the metal door with a thud. Now she decided, right when I had to leave for an interview. I should have known a stolen kiss with Emma could never just be a stolen kiss. “I have to go talk to a reporter.”
“No!” she pouted, kissing my neck, her hand squeezing my shaft. “I want you.”
“Emma.” I put her down on the counter. “Now you have to wait.” I held up my finger teasing her like I was her teacher and she was in trouble. “And you need to be good while you wait. Can you do that?”
She pouted again, my favorite look, at least when what she was frustrated about was not getting my cock inside of her. I couldn’t resist. I took her wrists in my hand and held them behind her back, just teasing, in a light grip, not trying to hurt her, just stoke her passion.
“I know it’s hard to wait,” I told her as she looked up at me, clearly both confused and aroused. Why was I holding her wrists behind her back? Because she was so fun to play with. “I want you to do something while you wait. Can you do something for me?”
She looked up at me with wide eyes and nodded. Eager to please and she didn’t even know what I was going to ask her to do. My cock throbbed. She needed a reward for being so compliant. As I held her wrists in one hand, I slipped my thumb between her legs, right up at the seam of her yoga pants, stroking her pussy. She groaned and opened her legs wider.
“Are you wet, baby?”
“Yes,” she admitted. That I had to feel for myself. I slipped my hand down her waistband, under her panties and slid my finger right where she wanted it. Hot, slick heaven.
“So wet,” I whispered, stroking her. She had her eyes half-closed, undulating her hips as I slowly thrust my finger. “Here’s what I want you to do for me,” I spoke to her quietly, just between us. “I want you to wait up in the hotel room. And while you’re waiting, I want you to touch yourself and think about how good I’m going to fuck you.”
She gasped, her lips parting, and I could feel her pussy grow even wetter.
“Are you excited about getting fucked?” I growled, low and wicked.
“Yes,” she moaned, biting her lower lip.
“Good.” I gave her a nice stroke for her honesty, circling her swollen, throbbing clit. “But Emma, listen to me.” She opened her eyes and looked up into mine. “Don’t come. Do you understand?”
There was that pout again. She was already close. I could feel how she needed to come right now.
“You come for me when I fuck you,” I insisted, stern and serious. “Got it?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered, surprised and aroused by my command.
I withdrew my hand, re-arranged her yoga pants, and licked her sweet juices from my fingers while she watched, rapt.
“You taste so good,” I murmured, enchanted with her. I’d never get enough. I stepped toward the door, wanting to get this interview over with.
“And Emma?”
“Yes?” God I loved the sight of her so flushed and aroused, her nipples standing hard against her tight top.
“Stay away from Chris.”
“Chris who?” she asked, making me smile as I left the room.
§
When I finally finished up and got back to the hotel room, the minx had the massage table out. I was so wound up I wanted to take her right there against the wall, even if it was our first time together. I didn’t think I could wait another minute, never mind cooling my jets through an entire physical therapy session with her hands all over me.
“Hop up,” she instructed me, patting the table.
“Are you serious?” She couldn’t be.
“Dead serious.” She put her hands on her hips. “I will not let this thing between us get in the way of your performance.”
“Are you concerned about my performance?” I took a step closer, definitely not thinkin
g about the pool.
