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Once Emma leaves us in a small conference room with a desk, swivel chair, a two-seater couch, and a Ficus in the corner, I close the door and don’t even lock it.
“What are you doing?” Mads asks me. She’s flushed and a little taken back by my walking right in here and taking charge.
“I figure why wait outside when we can wait in here.” I shrug, walking over to the couch and plonking down. I know she probably thinks I’m acting like I own the place, but this is how I am when I get to the stadium every time. No matter what isgoing on in my life. I don’t run away from things—if anything, I run straight toward them.
“Wait in here?” She breathes.
“Yeah, why not.” I shrug.
“I never thought of that.”
I notice her hovering, not sitting down. “I can see you’re a little bit tense. I always get like that before a game.”
I glance up at her, taking in her skirt suit and that cream blouse with the silk bow at the front, unfortunately covering her cleavage. I’m hard. But that’s not why I brought her here.
“So, what do you usually do when you’re tense before a game?”
I tilt my head to the side, grinning, and see in her answering blush that she knows what I’m implying. I shake my head, saying, “I’m just messing with you. Thoughthatwould be nice. I usually try to keep myself busy or listen to my favorite music or something.”
“You don’t fool around with women you hardly know in conference rooms you’re not meant to be in?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I smile and reach for her hand to pull her towards me.
She smiles and kneels in front of me, resting her knees on the couch between my legs.
“I don’t want to wrinkle your lovely suit,” I say.
She giggles. It’s such a nice sound, and I see she is starting to relax a little.
“And how did you think you were going to do that?”
“Could start with this.” I reach up and press my lips to hers, because I just can’t stand not touching her anymore. Her lips are soft and full and send signals straight to my groin.
I try to tell myself I didn’t come here to fool around with her. I’ll do whatever she wants—I’ll be whatever she wants. But right now, I need to kiss her.
She moans into my mouth, and I just about lose it.
I pull back to look at her. She looks so sexy kneeling like this, dressed to the nines, her makeup perfect, her lashes so long over those gorgeous bright eyes.
I want to get lost in them, swim in them like it’s my own private tide pool.
I know I want to make her mine.
She doesn’t know my kink though. I don’t want her fully compliable, though I find it sexy when she is. I don’t mind a bit of resistance.
So, I suppress a goran when she says, “We can’t do anything here.”
I grin as I move in to kiss her. I don’t add any tongue yet; I wanna take this nice and slow, savor every goddamned moment.
“Do what?” I ask, not breaking from the kiss.
“This,” she insists, though she’s melting into me.
“Not doing anything.” I sigh, loving the way her mouth tastes. I knew kissing her would be good. She meets every fucking expectation tenfold.
“The door isn’t locked,” she whispers.
My dick twitches. It’s screaming at me, but I try to ignore it.
