Page 94 of Forever Offsides

Nothing is better than being inside of her.

Her hips swivel forward and back before she circles them, and a groan rips past my lips. Jesus. She does it again, riding me, using me, fucking herself on me. It’s so goddamn sexy.

Just like my girl.

Her pretty tits bounce and sway, and her hair falls around her, a stunning contrast to her light skin.

It’s Monday morning, and the week starts all over again, but I’d give anything to be able to stay in this bed with her all day. To keep her naked and have us cuddle up and watch movies and touch each other and talk. I have all these visions, all these fantasies, and I don’t know if any of them will become mine in the light of day.

Or if all I’ll have with her are stolen moments in the dark.

We do have the bye week. Maybe I’ll take her away for a few nights or maybe I’ll convince her to take a few days off, and I’ll get the fantasy of us not leaving this room.

I grab her ass cheeks and split them wide, using them to push her down harder on me. She moans louder, her hands falling to my chest so she can lean forward and grind her clit on my pelvic bone. I fuck up into her, sawing in and out, my cock so wet from her pussy it slips out, and I have to feed it back to her.

I’m dying to flip her over and bury my face between her legs, but I promised her a quickie, and I have to deliver on that. And an orgasm.

Her eyes hold mine as we fuck each other, both of us already sweaty and breathless. She slides her pussy up and down, rubbing her clit harder and faster while I fuck her. My stomach clenches, and my balls are drawn up, my cock begging to come. The moment her back arches and her eyes roll back into her head, I go even harder, pounding up into her until I roar out my release. It’s hard and sharp and almost painful, it’s so intense.

Damn, how does she feel even better this morning than she did last night? Or do I think every time with her is better than the last?

She collapses onto my chest, both of us breathing hard. My fingers drag through her hair, catching on a snarl. She tenses, and I kiss her forehead in apology as I gently slip my fingers out.

“I need to go.”

My eyes close. “I know. Are you going for a run?”

“No time.” She smiles against my chest and props her chin up onto my sternum so she can gaze up at me. “Besides, I got a lot of cardio in last night and this morning.”

I drag a finger over the pretty lines of her face. “So I can keep up with you, is what you’re saying?”

“I am just hitting my sexual prime.”

“Good. I feel like I’m hitting mine again.”

She wiggles on my already stiffening cock. “I can tell. Too bad I can’t stay and play.” She pulls off me and rolls onto her side. “Down, boy. You’ll have to wait till later.”

I chuckle and playfully push her away. She hops out of bed and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

“I’m using your toothbrush.”

“Go for it,” I call back and pull on a clean pair of briefs, shorts, and a T-shirt. I’m debating whether I should go for a run, but after not getting a lot of sleep the past two nights and yes getting plenty of cardio last night and this morning, I decide to skip it.

A moment later, Quinn comes out of the bathroom wearing the clothes she wore yesterday on the plane and to the game. I know they’re dirty and gross, and I feel bad that I don’t have anything here she can wear.

I’ll have to fix that.

She comes over to me and throws her arms around my neck. Climbing up onto her tiptoes, she kisses me, her breath minty and fresh, whereas mine isn’t. She doesn’t seem to mind though. In no time, our kiss turns heated, and before we end up in my bed again, she pulls away. Her eyes are dark, and her lips are wet and swollen.

“I really do have to go.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

My townhouse is cool and dark as is the air outside, even if I can already feel the heat and humidity of this weird weather pattern trying to break through. I glance around the street, hating that I have to do it, but it’s a necessity all the same. I haven’t had press outside my door since July when they discovered Russel is my son. But more than the press, I have neighbors who know who I am. Likely who know Quinn Reyes as well.

“All clear?” she asks, her tone light and teasing, but I wonder if having to do this bothers her as much as it’s bothering me.

“All clear.” My voice falls flat of the levity I was going for.