Page 89 of Playing for Keeps

“Yes,” I managed, clutching at his shoulders. “We’re not… we aren’t supposed to– Oh God–”

His fingers found me through lace, pressing with an agonisingly perfect pressure that made my knees buckle. He laughed low in his throat, clearly feeling smug about himself.

“Not supposed to what?” he murmured against my skin. He pushed the fabric aside, fingers sliding against me bare and slick. He stroked in slow, maddeningly light circles until I was rocking helplessly into his hand, desperate for more.

“You’re… you’re unfair.” My nails clawing at him to pull him closer.

“Unfair?” He grinned against my neck and then slipped a finger inside me. The sudden fullness made me nearly cry out. “No, baby. This is me showing you how much I missed you.”

I tried to swallow a moan, but when he added a second finger that curled just right, the sound escaped anyway. My head thudded against the door again, breath breaking apart as he worked me with a steady, ruthless precision.

By the time I was trembling, on the edge, his hand disappeared. “No!” The protest tore out of me, raw and needy.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he dropped to his knees, his hands firm on my hips as he tugged my underwear down my legs.

“Max…”

He looked up at me, eyes dark. “Hold still for me.”

And then his tongue was on me, hot and devastating, and every word I’d meant to say dissolved into a moan that echoed far too loudly in the small office. I bit my lip hard, trying to muffle it, my fingers digging into the door behind me.

The first lick was slow and teasing. The second had me clutching his hair, my hips jerking forward as I lost the battle for control. He hooked his arm under my knee, hoisting my leg over his shoulder to steady me, and slid his fingers back inside. He moved in a perfect, punishing rhythm with the flick of his tongue. The pressure built quickly, until it was too much to contain.

I came hard, my back arching off the door, stifling a cry so no one in the hallway could hear.

When he finally let go, he kissed the inside of my thigh and smiled like he knew exactly what he had done.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Somewhere in the corridor, a floorboard creaked, the sound pulling me back into myself, my fingers tightening in his hair.

“You’re a terrible influence.”

He smiled against my skin before standing up. “Yeah. And you never seem to stop me.”

I reached behind me and unlocked the door.

42

MAX

The plane was loud, like a locker room after a win. The boys were wired, loud as hell, and no one stayed in their seats for long. Flight attendants did their best to get us to behave, but good luck with that – we’d already secured our spot after the last few games. We were going to the playoffs. Once everyone buckled in, the noise didn’t stop; it just shifted to shouting across aisles.

Will sat down next to me and scrolled through his playlist with his headphones hanging loosely around his neck. I barely noticed; I was too busy texting Emma.

Me: I’m on my way back. The week on the road is finally over.

She replied with a meme of a dog sitting by a window and looking dramatically for his owner to come home.

I snorted out loud, drawing a look from Will.

“How’s the beautiful Emma?” he asked, leaning over just enough to peek at my screen.

“She’s great,” and smiled before I could stop it.

He raised an eyebrow. “And how’s it going with you two?”

I leaned my head back against the seat, my mind drifting to the last time I had seen her, remembering the way she laughed and looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. “Perfect,” I said, and I meant it.