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Dropping her to the floor, I spin her around, shove her up against the wall, and kick the door closed with my foot before spreading her legs open with my knee.
She moans when I massage her breast over her dress, the fa
bric so thin that I can feel her nipple hardening from my touch. As I lean down to kiss her neck, she attempts to turn around, and I pin her hands together, pulling them over her head, and push her up against the wall, like the animal she’s expecting.
“Is this what you want, baby?” I growl into her ear.
“Bad, Parker,” she purrs, looking at me over her shoulder, her eyes seductive and her voice soft. “Using violent force to push a player up against the boards will cost you.” She shoots me a wicked grin and winks. “Five minutes for boarding.”
Hockey and sex, my two favorite things, and now, Charlotte just called out a fucking penalty, as if we were in the middle of our own game. My God, this is hot. In some ways, I guess sex is a game to her because she’s been toying with me for weeks, and I’m more than willing to play.
“Fuck, Charlotte,” I mutter. “Keep it up, baby. I’m so fucking hard right now. How are you going to make me serve my penalty? Are you going to punish me?”
Please say yes.
She nods her head, taunting me as she flicks her tongue across her lips. “Yes, now, take off your pants. You like breaking rules so much, then someone should teach you a lesson to show you that all rules are not meant to be broken.” She’s referring to the rule about not dating clients, something she mentions to me often.
“I like this game,” I say, reaching for the button of my pants.
She spins around to tug at my belt buckle.
She reminds me of a sexy teacher in this dress. I can’t help thinking the biggest turn-on would be for her to go get that whistle she uses to coach basketball and wear only that. I want Coach tonight.
Gripping the leather in her hand, she slips the belt from the loops of my dress pants and pulls it out in one swift motion.
“Are you going to beat me with that, Coach?”
I usually call her Charlotte, so the fact that I’m using her nickname causes her to stop for a second. Now that I have an idea of what’s in that crazy head of hers, I want to use her game to my advantage. Sliding my hand up her thigh, I use the other to pull her into my chest and rock against her.
“Holding!” she says with a smirk already on her lips. “Two more minutes, Parker.”
I love that hockey is turning her on right now because knowing she’s going to continue this charade excites me more than when we had phone sex. When Charlotte steps out of her comfort zone and reveals different layers, an urge deep inside me wants to peel them all back until everything is exposed and there is nothing left between us to hide.
“Go get your whistle,” I growl. “I want you in that and nothing else.”
“Tonight, I make the rules, and you follow them, got it?”
I lick my lips. “Whatever you say, Coach.”
My dick is so hard, I’m in physical agony from it pressing up against my pants. I wonder if I will even last long enough to satisfy her, especially since she’s the only girl I’ve had sex with since the trade and my hand has not been cutting it lately.
But she must like the idea because she bends over to where her purse fell on the floor while we were kissing, giving me a spectacular view of her ass. She extracts the whistle and lowers it over her head. She raises the whistle to her lips and lets it sit there, looking up at me beneath her brows, but she doesn’t blow on it.
“I could make better use of that mouth. C’mere, baby,” I say, moving my index finger to call her forward.
She wants to be in control just as much as she likes submitting to me, and she does as I commanded, the whistle falling from her mouth and situating between her breasts.
Sliding her dress further up her legs and over her hips, I tug at the thin lace panties so hard that I hear them rip. The material falls to the side, exposing her delicious skin, and I want to have a taste.
“Take them off,” I order.
“Like this?” she says, taking her time and giving me the slowest strip tease ever just to torture me.
As her panties fall to her ankles, she steps out of them and shoves them behind herself with her foot. In a pair of red high heels that place her at around the same height as me, she takes them off so that I have a few inches on her.
I need to have her now. The thought of consuming her, devouring every part of her body, makes my pulse speed up and my heart race. So much adrenaline rushes through my body from the high that Charlotte provides me. It’s been so easy to kick drinking and partying when I am replacing those lonely and pathetic moments with Charlotte.
As my hand travels further up her thigh, she spreads her legs wider, and I slip two fingers inside her, plunging them so deep that she moans and falls forward, holding on to my chest as I move faster.
