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Thank god athletes had good lung capacity because I didn’t give a fuck at that moment if he was breathing.

“Dalton, please…” I didn’t know what I was asking for, but he seemed to.

I let out a loud cry that turned into a moan as his palm landed on the side of my bare ass cheek. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered that we were in my office, and someone could walk into the gym at any time, but none of that was enough to keep me quiet.

My eyes flared as he grinned against my pussy, massaging my stinging cheek.

“Get your hand back on your cock, Thatcher. I want to see you come.”

Apparently, he liked being bossed around because he latched on to my clit, sucking hard right as he shoved his fingers deep inside me. My heart seized in my chest at the sight of him fucking his hand, matching the pace of his fingers thrusting inside me. “Fuck, you’re a good boy.” The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them.

Those startling green eyes flared at the compliment, and he literally growled against my core, sending white sparks of pleasure down my spine.

I was seconds away from an orgasm. He knew it, too.

That wicked mouth applied the perfect amount of pressure to my clit, and then he added a third finger.

I broke—rocked by the most intense orgasm of my life, my legs quaking so hard I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to get up. I was in such a daze I didn’t even realize he was standing until he moaned my name, and ropes of white cum landing on my pelvis. A second wave of pleasure hit me as I watched it drip down between my legs in one of the most erotic sights I’d ever seen. Part of me wanted to ask him to shove it inside, but whatever bit of restraint I still had prevented me from forming the words.

Apparently, that restraint didn’t apply to me scooping some up and licking it off my fingers.

His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen, and his face shone with the evidence of my orgasm. “My dirty fucking girl. Next time, I’ll come in your mouth so you don’t miss a drop,” he said, swiping his fingers through our combined release and holding it to my lips.

Who the fuck was I?

When had I decided my favorite new thing to do was suck his fingers clean of cum?

He pressed gentle kisses up across my jaw and down my neck, then back up until he captured my lips, cradling my face and tilting it up.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked with a laugh, sliding off the desk. “You’re the one who gave both of us orgasms.”

“For listening…”

Oh.

He looked away, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “For reminding me that there are people in my life who are proud of me…are there for me.” The smile he shot me was sheepish, the bold man from a moment ago replaced by one who was more tender—vulnerable.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him close and trying to ignore the fact that we were having a tender moment while I was still naked from the waist down.

“Always, Thatcher. I am always here for you.”

For the first time, making that promise wasn’t scary at all.

THIRTY-TWO

ARIELLA

IF YOU DON’T LIKE TEXTING CHAPTERS, I FEAR YOU ARE WRONG.

Saturday

Thatcher:

I bought you more sheets for your bed

Me: