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Afucking babysitter. The team assigned me a representative from the cock-blocking fun police. I can’t believe this shit.
Although, as my eyes rake up and down her body, taking in the way her dress perfectly clings to her curves, I realize it might not be all that bad.
“You’re right. Perhaps I do need a babysitter. It was a long flight. I need a shower and I certainly could use help reaching my back.”
Her eyes widen before she schools her features. “I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m Aliyah Monroe.”
“Okay, Aliyah Monroe, I’m Liam King but you already knew that. So how about that hand?” I nod towards a door that I’m assuming is the bathroom.
“Sure, you go on ahead. I’ll join you,” she says, and then spins around and turns back to the door.
My cock stirs at the thought of getting wet and soapy with my newbestfriend. Fuck, if you’ve got to have a babysitter, at least I got a hot one.
I make quick work of stripping down and turning the water on. I step under the stream as soon as it starts to warm up. The bathroom is fully stocked with soaps, shampoos, and shit already. I avoid the loofah and pump some shower gel into the palm of my hand.
“Ready whenever you are, babe,” I call out, wrapping my fist around my dick. I give it a few pumps while eyeing the door.
I don’t get a response. She’s probably stripping off in the bedroom, and any minute now, she’ll walk in here buck naked and hand that tight little body of hers over to me on a silver platter.
They all do. She won’t be any different—can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of sleeping with the babysitter before, though. Not that my previous team ever dared to do such bullshit. I’m not a fucking kid who needs monitoring 24/7.
Although the fuckers did throw me away for one little fucking mess up. Okay, maybe not one, but still. Fuck them. Their loss. They’re not going to replace me with anyone better. That’s for damn sure.
Then again, if I would have known fucking up would result in having that hot little babysitter as my welcoming gift, I would have knocked that fucker out years ago. My ex-coach, the guy I laid out cold on the ice right before the Stanley Cup game last year, deserved the broken jaw and missing teeth. There’s only so much a man can take, finding your coach in bed with your married mother, and then having him look you in the eye the next morning and make comments about her. Yeah, that’s not something even a saint would tolerate.
Of course, no one fucking knows what the asshole did and I’m made out to be the bad guy, the loose cannon who can’t control his rage. I have plenty of fucking control. Though I’m beginning to lose it at the moment.
Fuck, this chick needs to hurry up and get her ass in here. I close my eyes and picture the curves she’s hiding under that prim-and-proper dress of hers. I imagine ripping that headband off before grabbing a fistful of her hair, tugging on it just hard enough so she’s at my mercy but not enough to actually cause damage.
Again, I’m not the monster the media is making me out to be right now.
I’d run my tongue, my teeth, up and down the delicious curve of her neck. Opening my eyes, I’m blinded by the bright white lighting reflecting off the too-white marble walls. I tighten my hand around my dick and increase my movements. Little Miss Monroe not joining me isn’t going to stop me from getting off. Just thinking about her is enough to have my dick rock-hard and leaking precum. I picture throwing her down on the bed, tearing her dress right down the middle. I imagine burying my face between her legs. I bet she tastes sweet too. The good girl types always do. I increase the speed of my movements. I can feel it. I’m so fucking close. My balls tighten, tingles run up my spine, and—
“AHHH!!! FUCK.”
That scream has me dropping my cock and sprinting from the bathroom. Ever tried running on smooth marble tiles when you’re soaking wet? Yeah, it ain’t fucking fun. It’s a good thing I’m used to skating around on ice.
“What happened?” I ask, skidding to a stop in the living room.
Aliyah is standing on the coffee table, her mouth and eyes both open wide and staring right back at me.
“What the fuck?” I ask again, my gaze flicking around the room.
“Where are your clothes?” she asks, staring at my still-erect cock.
“Back in the bathroom, where I was showering before you screamed bloody murder out here.” Clearly, the girl’s fine, not injured. “If you wanted to see me naked, sweetheart, you had an open invitation to join me.” I smirk.
“There’s a spider,” she says in way of explanation.
My blood goes cold. There isn’t a lot that scares me in this world, but spiders? Yeah, I don’t fuck with those creepy bastards. In my opinion, anything with eight legs is from outer space or some shit.
I jump up next to her on the coffee table so quickly that she stumbles back and loses her balance. My arm snakes out, catching her around the waist and pulling her flat against my chest. Against my naked, wet chest.
My hands are shaking. The fact that there’s a spider in here has me ready to find a match and burn the building down. Do the Ghostbusters actually exist? Maybe they can come and exterminate the little fucker.
“Where…” I gulp. “Where is it?” I force out, my eyes glued to the ground.
“I don’t know. Oh my god! Get off me.” Her palms land against my chest and she pushes.
