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He rolled the condom on and climbed on the bed between my legs. With one hand planted on the mattress beside my shoulder, he hovered over me, toying with me, swiping his tip up and down and coating himself in my wetness.
I hooked my legs around his waist and dug my heels into those divots of muscle right above his ass, forcing him closer. “Okay.”
Jaw tense, he locked eyes with me and dipped his head a little closer. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.” I’d never been more sure of anything in my whole life.
He entered me in one long thrust, filling me perfectly and forcing a scream from my throat.
As if he was thinking the same thing, he let out a muttered curse and gritted out, “Perfect. So perfect.”
I cupped his stubbled cheek and tilted my hips, urging him on. In response, he leaned forward and molded his lips to mine. Then, as he deepened the kiss, he started to move. With each thrust, pressure built low in my belly.
Digging my fingers into the flesh of his shoulders, I matched his movements, lifting my hips to meet his. My core tightened, and the low burning heat inside me ramped up to full-fledged flames.
He picked up his pace, thrusting faster, harder, his cock hitting that spot inside me over and over. A flick of Mason’s thumb across my clit, and pleasure ripped through my body, sensation after sensation shooting through me.
I was still lost in the high of my orgasm when Mason came with my name on his lips. As we came back down together, he collapsed on top of me. For a moment, he stayed like that, but as I sucked in one deep breath, then another, he rolled to his side, taking me with him. My chest heaved as I focused on regulating my breathing.
Mason pressed his lips to my temple. Then he pushed to his feet and smiled down at me. “Be right back.”
I nodded, mimicking his smile, but my heart was already aching and my stomach was already sinking. Because what we’d just done couldn’t happen again. God, did I want it to, but I couldn’t work for the team and be with him. Even if we both wanted it. There were rules against that.
When he came back into the bedroom, he pulled me up and looped his arms around me, holding me close. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pressing a kiss to my nose.
I swallowed hard and averted my gaze. “We can’t do this again.” I hated to say the words out loud. I very much wanted more time with Mason—more teasing, more laughing, more talking and touching—but we couldn’t.
“Why not?” He pulled back, his brows pulled low and frustration simmering in his expression.
“We can’t both work for the Revs and be together. It’s not allowed.” I sighed and lowered my head. “I can’t lose my job, Mason.”
“Hey.” He slipped two fingers under my chin and tipped my face up so I was forced to look at him. “I would never let that happen.” His look of intense earnestness made me want to believe his declaration. But the truth of the matter was that it wasn’t really within his control.
He guided me back to the bed and wrapped an arm around me. As he rubbed small, soothing circles on my stomach, I stared at the ceiling.
If it came down to it, he brought in the fans. The Revs had sold more Dumpty jerseys than any other Rev this year. No one would get rid of that guy. They were franchise players. The guy management would bend over backward to keep because he was the kind of player who would retire with his number on a wall.
I looked over at Mason. That’s exactly who he was.
And I was the brand-new trainer who could be replaced in a heartbeat.
He could dream all he wanted, but when push came to shove, my job was the one on the line.
Was I willing to give it up for him? I hated that I didn’t know.
Rolling out my shoulder, I pushed the door to the locker room open with my good arm. Normally, stepping into this room felt like coming home. The navy carpet and built-in wooden lockers made the place feel warm and welcoming. The couches surrounding the huge circle logo were the perfect place to chill before games. Seeing my own space, with my name, was a comfort. Today’s pinstripe uniform hung just below the shelf with my mitt. A few pairs of cleats sat on the floor at the bottom of the locker. Even the chair, the one I’d put a decal on so it was easily distinguishable—the original Revs Logo, of course, with the drum and stars.
Except—
“Looks who’s finally back.” Bosco slapped my good shoulder.
Ignoring him, I approached my locker, scanning the area around it in search of my chair.
“I bet you’re happy to be here,” he said from behind me.
“What did you do with it?”
He thought this dumbass game was funny. At first, he’d taken the chair, and I’d almost fallen trying to sit on it. Then he’d just scoot it closer to him, so he’d have two. That’s when I put the decal on it, so it stood out as mine. Then it started showing up all over the locker room. Once I’d even found it in the shower.
