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Ilene’s gray eyes pop. “Yes! Bite-size is best. We’ve got an hour with the players. We’ll shoot now and cut the promos this afternoon to start running tonight,” she says. “It’ll be a crash edit. Can you do it?”
“I’m on it,” I say as we reach the elevator.
She stabs the button for the field level, and as the lift doors close, she tilts her head, studying me. “You know, Hunter, you have such a natural affinity for sports production and broadcasting. I’d love to see you do more of it.”
Well, hello there, praise. It’s nice to see you. “Thanks, I’d love to keep doing this.”
“I’m going to keep an eye out for more projects to send your way. Can you come to the reception Friday night? There are some executives I want you to meet.”
Wow. I was happy to go as Nate’s arm-candy hubby. Now I have my own professional reasons to be there. “Absolutely. I’m going with Nate,” I say.
“Of course! That’s great that you’ll already be there. We’re going to be expanding all our sports divisions and pushing forward with more sports in Europe. Would that interest you?”
Do warm nuts taste better in first class?
“Absolutely,” I say, trying to tamp down the glee bursting inside me.
I can’t wait to tell Sarah, my sister, my mum, and most of all, Nate.
We film the promos on the field an hour later. Each player gets their turn in front of the camera crew, where I ask them the football-in-five-words-or-less question.
Xavier gives a confident, “Football is life.”
Jason declares, “The best game there is.”
Then, it’s Nate’s turn. I’ve only once seen my temporary husband dressed for a game. He’s imposing in all that gear, glowering and badass. He must terrify his opponents.
“What does football mean to you?” I ask him. “In five words or less.”
He stands with his helmet tucked under his arm, and his blue eyes lock with mine. My stomach flips as he pauses and holds my gaze before he answers, “Best time I’ve ever had.”
I don’t know if he means football or me.
But I choose to believe the latter.
We spend the morning finishing the spots with the players and getting some footage of practice. The crew packs up the equipment and leaves for the offices. I make my own way to the exit, mentally listing all I need to do in the next five hours, when a big hand darts out from a doorway and curls around my shoulder. A voice comes in a harsh whisper. “Get in here.”
It’s Nate, and he sounds pissed.
He tugs me into an equipment room, then shuts the door. “Don’t ever do that again,” he hisses.
I back up against the wall. We’re surrounded by shelves stacked with pads, gloves, and helmets. “What do you mean? Show up at your work?” It’s hard to think when he’s only wearing football pants and a sweaty workout shirt.
Nate prowls closer, fire blazing in his blue eyes. “You know what I mean.”
My heart rate skitters, fear and arousal twining together. “I have no idea what I did.”
“It’s what you didn’t do,” he seethes, grabbing my tie and jerking me against him. “Next time you come home while I’m asleep you damn well better wake me up with your mouth on me. On my lips. My stomach. My cock. Wake. Me. Up. I had plans for you,” he says in a sharp reprimand.
A ridiculously hot one.
“That was terrible of me,” I say, playing along. “Why don’t you tell me your plans now?”
“You’ll have to wait. But you would have loved them. You would have been shouting my name. Instead, I’m going to make sure you never forget what to do when you come home late,” he tells me.
Do I have a new boss-me-around kink or what? My dick must think so from the way he’s standing at attention right now. “I was very, very bad.”
“And you’re going to take your punishment in the form of a blow job.”
Left is right and up is down, and I’m about to get blown because I failed to wake him with my mouth last night? I never want to leave this topsy-turvy world. “This isn’t really incentivizing me to ever wake you up again,” I say, but then I shut up and groan since Nate has dropped to his knees.
He undoes my belt and rips open my trousers, freeing my cock.
He wastes no time in taking me down his throat. I’m still in a state of disbelief as he swallows my dick. And I study him as he sucks. It’s like blow job school, and he’s demonstrating the art of the deep throat.
Relax your neck. Suck hard. Don’t be afraid to choke.
I take copious mental notes because later, I want to do this to him.
But soon it’s impossible to take notes as my brain goes haywire, then I come hard.
