“One more,” he grunts.
“I can’t,” I moan. My body vibrates with dopamine and exhaustion. I think another orgasm might kill me.
“Yes. One more. Make me come. Now.” He pinches my clit, and my back arches off the bed as I come. I hear him roar his release, and vaguely feel the sensation of him coming inside me, but I can’t open my eyes. I instantly fall asleep.
I’m disoriented when I wake up.
The sun streaming through the open curtains is a dead giveaway that I’m not in my hotel room. I keep the curtains closed at night. I want my room to be pitch black while I’m sleeping. It’s at that moment I remember where I am.
Rearing to a sitting position, I frantically look around for Ground Man. I grab a pillow to cover myself, which is dumb. The guy had a finger in my ass and his tongue in my pussy last night. I doubt seeing me naked in daylight would be a fright.
“Hello?” I call out uncertainly. “Umm, hey, dude? You in the bathroom?”
When there’s no answer, I take a deep breath, then jump off the bed. Running to the bathroom, I find it empty. Holy shit. The guy banged me and left.
“Well, that’s an interesting development,” I murmur, laughing to myself. Typically, it’s me sneaking out. I’m not quite sure how to feel. Am I disappointed? Relieved? Angry? I mean, if he were still here, I wouldn’t have been opposed to an orgasm to wake me up. The sex last night was unbelievable. He rocked my world. It’s almost a shame I didn’t get a phone number, because I think I’d be willing to fly to Chicago every few months just to have a night like that.
As I collect my clothes from various places in the room, I’m chagrined to find no thong, but I do find the blindfold, which is a standard man’s tie. That motherfucker took my underwear, but left me this instead!
“Jerk,” I huff, removing my phone from my bag to see that it’s almost eight. I was supposed to be handing out breakfast to the team an hour ago. “Shit!”
I stuff the blindfold in my bag, determined to keep something from tonight as a souvenir. If he gets to have one, why shouldn’t I? I manage to find a rideshare close by, and get to the team hotel in fifteen minutes. I find Coach Dunn waiting for me. “I sure hope you have an explanation for this, Ms. Holmes. It doesn’t bode well for my trust if you’re late on the first day.”
Technically not my first day, since I’ve been working with the team for months now, but I’m not bringing that up. “I set my alarm wrong.”
His eyebrow pops up. “You’re really blaming your alarm?”
I certainly am not going to tell him it’s because I was getting my back blown out. “Yep. I’ll be sure to set three extra alarms, so I’m never late again.”
Coach studies me, and I have to wonder if I have a tell when I’m lying. He finally nods. “Alright. Most of the team grabbed theirbreakfast. Just a couple of guys left. Can you check on the electrolytes we have? I want extras on hand for everyone today.”
“Of course.”
Once Coach disappears, I let out a loud sigh of relief and walk into the small conference room where I’ll be handling all of the meals. While I am a trained chef, my love of food has always been based in nutrition. There will be times that I cook a meal for the team when we are at home, but the away games will be catered by local restaurants and services. I plan to add extras, depending on what each player wants or needs, that will allow me to do some of the cooking and preparation myself. Nothing makes me happier than cooking.
Most of the guys selected egg-based dishes for a good chunk of their protein, while some wanted smoothies and oatmeal. A couple of guys asked for smoked salmon on a bagel, which is what I chose to include for myself. A perk of this job is having the opportunity to feed myself at every meal, and there’s nothing I like more than a sandwich that involves a bagel. Cream cheese, capers, thinly sliced red onions, ribboned cucumbers, and fresh dill bring in a good chunk of protein, and it’s tremendously filling.
I head behind the table to see which guys haven’t picked up their meals, and I’m not surprised to find Max Callahan as one of them. I’m honestly a little ticked because I went out of my way to make him a cheesecake-flavored Greek yogurt bowl, and added a ton of fresh fruit to it, because I know he likes sweets. Not that he told me so, of course. I’ve just been watching him. He grabs a candy bar a lot of afternoons, and if given the option of sweet or savory, he picks sweet almost every time. I even made a batch of my banana protein baked oats, including them for all the guys, but mostly because I wanted to see if Max liked them.
“Is that mine?” a voice gruffly asks. Looking up, I find a disheveled Max staring at the box with his name on it. He reaches out to take it from me, and for some reason, I step away from him. “What the hell, Peaches? Give me my food.”
“Did no one ever teach you manners?” I snap. “Hello. Good morning. How are you today? Thank you for making my meal.”
Max still won’t look me in the eyes. “Rough night. Can I have my food? Please.”
Jake Holloway steps up beside him, giving me a big grin. “That may be the first time I’ve ever heard him use ‘please’ in a full sentence, Layla. You might want to accept it and move on. No telling when he’ll say it again.”
Max glances up at me, then immediately looks down at the table. What the hell is up with this guy? “Rough night? Can’t sleep without your favorite blankie or stuffy, Sunshine?”
Jake laughs. “I’ve got the room next to him, and I didn’t hear a peep until before dawn. Sounded like that was when you got in.”
“No. Wasn’t me. Maybe you heard me leaving for a run,” Max states. His eyes finally meet mine for a moment. “Can I have my food now, please?”
“You got him to say please twice. Wow,” Jake says dramatically. I roll my eyes, handing over the box. “Oh, Lay, any chance you’ll share the recipe for that banana bar thing in there? It was fantastic.”
“Sure,” I tell him, beaming with pride. It never gets old when someone compliments me on something I’ve created.
“A banana bar thing.” Max looks at the box skeptically. “Is this going to be something weird that I can’t pronounce, and you watch me eat every bite before you tell me it’s the skin of a beaver?”
