“I don’t care.” Her fingers trace the outline of my rock-hard cock through the fabric, and I think I’m going to die. I’m actually going to die. “I need…”
Then, of fucking course, because we’re us, a knock comes on the door.
NO!!!
We freeze.
“Madam President?” The Secret Service agent’s voice is muffled through the wood. “The car is ready, ma’am.”
Fuck. Me.
Lina drops her forehead to my chest, breathing hard.
“One minute,” she calls out, and her voice is almost steady. Almost.
I’m still pressed against her, still hard as fuck, still trying to remember how to breathe.
“This is fucking torture,” I mutter into her hair.
Her laugh is shaky and breathless. “Tell me about it.”
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her lips are swollen, her hair is a mess, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life.
“After the semis,” I say. “Win or lose. I’m coming for you.”
She smiles, eyes shining with mischief. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I press my forehead to hers. “We can’t keep doing this, Lina. These… stolen moments. We need more.”
She nods, her soft hand coming up to cup my jaw. “We do.”
“We’ll figure it out.” I turn my head, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I don’t care how complicated this is. I know you can feel it, too. How special we are…”
“I do,” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” She smiles her real smile, the one that fucking wrecks me. “Good luck with the game, Coach.”
I chuckle, then kiss her one more time.
“We will.”
Lina slips out of my arms and smoothes her hair, composing herself. By the time she opens the door, she’s the President again, calm, together, and fucking leagues away from me. But when she looks back at me before leaving, her eyes saysoon.
Eight
Lina
The US just won the semifinal. I’m on my feet in the VIP box, clapping and cheering like everyone else, but my eyes aren’t on the players. They’re on my man.
Levi is on the field, surrounded by his staff, getting mobbed by the team. He’s grinning, that real grin that transforms his resting scary face, and I can imagine how he feels. The pride, the joy. The relief.
God, he’s beautiful.
My phone buzzes in my clutch.
I pull it out, heart already racing.
