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What the actual fuck?
* * *
You know those days when you wake up and just know you might murder someone? Like your hormones are all dressed in gladiator armor and are coming together, ready to fuck some shit up?
Well, add in an NFL quarterback who just took the last two months of your hard work and basically ripped it to shreds, and now? I don’t think I need another reason to be storming into a locker room full of naked men at the moment, especially after our amazing time together last night.
Huffing in time with the click of my heels on the floor, I rush past men with gaping mouths who are scrambling for towels to cover their junk.
News flash—I’ve seen many penises, and none of them even compared to Maddox’s, so I really don’t care about sizing up their junk.
“Maddox!” I shout, trying not to crinkle the gossip magazine in my hands any more but failing as my arms pump in time with my legs, moving me closer to the man who is going to feel the wrath of all my hormones today. I feel like a scene from the movie300is playing in the background as I close in on him.
“He’s over there!” A voice shouts, and I turn just in time to see Vince pointing me in the direction I’m already headed.
“Thank you!”
“You do know you’re in the men’s locker room, right, Penelope?”
“Well aware, Vince. But thanks for the clarification. I’m not sure what gave it away—the half-naked men, the smell of sweaty balls, or the fact that all of you are staring at me, not sure if you should be afraid or if you’re falling in love.”
His laugh rings out as I turn the corner and come face to ass with Maddox.
God, I couldn’t forget that ass even if I tried.
Focus, Penelope. Do not let that man’s ass derail you from the problem he’s created for you.
“Maddox Taylor!”
He twists around so fast he almost falls to the floor. “Penelope? What the hell are you doing in here?”
Oh God, he doesn’t have a towel on.
Don’t drop your eyes, Pen. Don’t do it.
But the piercing... it’s like a sparkling, shiny toy you just can’t help but want to reach out and touch.
Now’s not the time to salivate over the man’s dick, the dick reminding you that the last time you had sex with him was less than twelve hours ago.
“We need to talk. Now.”
His eyes scan the room behind me where I’m sure most of his team are standing, watching our conversation unfold. “Uh, okay. Do you mind if I get dressed first?”
Without dropping my eyes from his, I say, “Do it quickly. I don’t have all day. I’ll meet you in the media room. You have five minutes.” Then I spin on my heels and march right back out of the locker room to the room down the hall, hoping it’s unlocked and we can have some privacy.
In less than four minutes, Maddox appears, his hair still wet and his clothes barely situated on his body.
At least he took my timeline seriously.
He shuts the door quietly behind him, cautiously entering the room. After we both end up standing there in silence for a few moments, he breaks it using his signature move. “What do a nearsighted gynecologist and a puppy have in common?”
“Maddox... seriously?”
He grins. “Just answer the question.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I don’t know, Maddox. What?”
“A wet nose.”
