Lady and the Champ (14 page)

I oof out a breath and grab hold of his shoulders. He’s intent on starting where he left off, fucking me hard and fast and energetically until I start to scoot back on the mattress, my head bouncing into the headboard. He threads his fingers into my hair again, holding my head still while he latches his mouth to mine. It’s all so intense. I can’t think; I can barely breathe. I’ve never been fucked like this before—so hard, so rough.

I don’t want him to stop.

I wrap my legs around his waist, which also helps hold me still on the mattress.

He thrusts deeper inside me. He’s so concentrated on what he’s doing—like he’s afraid he’ll die if he stops. Ever since he started flirting with me, I’ve wondered if he took sex as seriously as he takes football. Now I have my answer. This primal rutting with a man I barely know is one of the hottest experiences I’ve ever had in my life.

Inside, I’m winding up like a spring, everything ready to explode at any second. He slows his thrusting, drawing back from the intense kiss to look me right in the eyes.

“Go,” he says. “Now.”

I blink at him, and then I realize what he means. Before I can even think about it, my body obeys, unwinding in a powerful wave that’s so intense I literally scream.

“That’s it. That’s what I like…”

He continues to thrust slowly into me as the orgasm wrings me dry. Only when I’m coming back down, my hands mindlessly opening and closing on the sheets, does he make a last, long, hard thrust into me and let himself go.

I can see the orgasm moving through his face as his eyes shut then open again, focusing on me. He smiles, his eyes blissed out, pupils dilated. I can feel him pulsing inside me for what seems like an eternity. Then, finally, he leans down and kisses me once, gently, then rolls off onto the sheets next to me. There’s still massage oil everywhere, rubbed into the sheets off our bodies. It smells more like sex than chamomile and mint now though.

He closes his eyes then turns his head and looks at me, that smug grin twitching on his mouth.

“That,” he pronounces, “is the best physical therapy I’ve ever had in my life.”

And before I can so much as roll my eyes, he’s kissing me again, and I just can’t find it in me to argue.

S
he’s gone before morning
.

The floral smell of her shampoo still clung to the sheets, but the bed was empty. No note. Not so much as a text goodbye. What the hell is that about?

It’s not like you haven’t done the same thing
to other women
.

Still, though.

“Dah!”

I smile at Emma, who is strapped to my chest. “Yes, baby girl.”

It’s not often that I go out in public with my baby, but this morning Megan pounded on my door to dump Emma at my doorstep. Goddamn Megan. The bitch couldn’t even be bothered to change her diaper. And it just so happened that my assistant’s on vacation, so here I am. Shopping for diapers at Target.

I haven’t been recognized yet, which is lucky. It’s happened before when I’ve been out with Emma. My fans tend to be cool about deleting images of Emma off their phone. Something about having her image shared across the Internet irks me.

“Bah bah!” Emma swings her fist at the row of baby-related products, knocking several bottles of powder off the shelves. One of them bursts open.

“Fuck.”

A thick cloud of white explodes from the pile scattered on the floor. My shoes are covered in scented baby powder. Damn it. How the hell am I going to clean this?

“Thanks a lot, kid.”

Emma squeals with laughter.

There’s nothing to sweep up this mess. Shit. I glance down the bright aisle for someone who works here.

“Austin?”

Crap, I’ve been recognized.

I hitch a grin onto my face and turn toward the female voice. It belongs to the sassy-mouthed woman I spent last night with. She’s wearing gym clothes: a purple Nike top and tight black shorts. Her black hair is swept into a messy ponytail that somehow reminds me of last night, when I roped her hair around my hand and fucked her in my bed. The pouty lips that I watched wrap around my cock are open in shock.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Her gaze flicks from Emma back to me, the guilt growing on her face. “Why are you knee deep in baby powder?”

“Emma decided she preferred it on the floor.”

A reluctant smile staggers across her face. “I see. So, you’re diaper shopping?”

Oh, come on. “So we’re going to pretend nothing happened last night? Okay.”

“I’m just asking—”

This is going to be
fun
. “You look flustered. What’s wrong?”

She tries to collect herself, inhaling a shaky breath. “Nothing’s wrong!”

“I guess no one expects to run into their one-night stand at Target.”

Chloe blushes scarlet.

Busted
.

“Now you’re blushing. That wouldn’t have anything to do with sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night, would it?”

“Spare me the sermon, all right?”

“You took a ride and left me wet in the barn.”

A violet blush rises to her cheeks. “Whatever.”

“You took a trip to pound town and left without saying goodbye.”

She gives me a pointed glare. “Okay.”

“We opened the gates of Mordor. You went in without me.”

“
I get it
.”

“There was a banana in the fruit salad—”

“Give it a rest! We fucked last night.
Yes
. I know.”

“Uck!” Emma’s voice rings out, as clear as a bell.

Chloe gasps, clapping her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”

“You rode me and ditched me. Now you’re teaching my daughter to swear? Bad manners, Doc.”

Walking toward her, I grab her shoulders. There’s something more than guilt swimming in those greens. Longing. She doesn’t push me away when I squeeze her, fighting away the images of last night. I can’t let this one slip through my fingers.

“I thought we had a good time,” I continue in a more serious voice.

“We did, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.”

Yeah, right. There’s no denying the chemistry between us. All it’ll take is another visit to my house and her hands on my body.

Her nostrils flare. “Austin, it can’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“For one thing, I could get sued for sexual harassment.”

I laugh so hard that women down the aisle glance at us. “If anything, you’re not harassing me enough.”

She grinds her teeth, clearly trying not to yell in front of the baby. “This could cost me my job.”

“They’re not going to fire the Champ’s favorite PT, no matter how many times we roll in the hay.”

“Enough with the damn euphemisms!” She gently pushes my hand aside, sucking in a breath. “Look, I like you. I do. But it’s not enough to throw away my professional integrity.”

“Doc, you’re way too wrapped up in your job. There are other things in life.”

Looking annoyed, she crosses her arms. “Gee, I had no idea.”

Smartass.
“Sex with me is
fun
. Isn’t that worth something?”

She looks at me dead center. “It’s worth something. Not everything.”

* * *

O
ver the next few days
, she keeps putting me off. I try to arrange another appointment at my house, and she claims she’s booked. I text her to see how she’s doing, and she says fine and nothing else. I send her another dick pic—and this one’s a work of art, let me tell you—and she doesn’t even bother to answer.

Finally I ask her if she can meet me at the stadium while the team is there for practice, and this time I get a confirmation.

Fine. If that’s the way she wants to play it, I’m game.

So when she comes to meet me in the locker room, I’m naked except for a tiny hand towel that I can barely wrap around my waist. Basically my entire ass is hanging out, and the towel is secured by a super small knot in the back and whatever support it’s getting from my junk. “Precarious” doesn’t even cover it.

“Hi!” I say to her, and her face goes bright red.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Her voice is low, even though she and I are the only people in the locker room at the moment. Though anyone could walk in at any time—a fact I’m all too aware of. The possibility of getting caught adds to the fun.

“Doing what?” I spread both arms as I ask the question, and she winces as if she thinks the towel is going to pop off at any second. Which, to be honest, it just might.

“Trying to embarrass me.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” I turn to grab my water bottle out of the locker, deliberately showing her my bare ass. “It’s not like you haven’t seen all this before.” I turn back. “Touched it. Had it inside you.”

She glances back and forth as if she thinks somebody might be listening. “Stop it, Sherwood.”

“What’s wrong?” I hesitate, reading her face. “Is that why you wanted to meet here?” I’ve done this math already, but I want to see what she says about it. Plus I’m irritated she’s pushing me away. I thought we had something going, even if it was just going to be a fling. I like flings. Flings are fun.

“What do you mean?” Her face is still bright red, so I’m pretty sure I’m barking up the right tree.

“You wanted to meet here because you’re afraid if we meet at my place, we’ll end up fucking. Again.”

She takes a step closer, still acting like she thinks there might be somebody else in the locker room. “Will you keep it down?” she hisses.

I don’t keep it down. I keep talking in a normal tone of voice. I like seeing her flushed and flustered. It turns me on. Which might make it easier to keep the towel in place. Or might make it fall right off. I’m not sure which is the more likely scenario.

“So you think if we’re here there’s no way we’ll have sex? Do you not remember the other day in the hot tub?”

“We didn’t have sex in the hot tub.”

“We came damn close.” I take a step toward her and reach for her elbow, but she jerks back.

“Austin, please. Put some clothes on. Anybody could walk in and see us in here and if they do, they might jump to conclusions. I don’t need that right now.”

I wonder if maybe she had another run-in with somebody at work. I really need to find out who in her office is giving her shit and do something about it. Like punch the guy in the teeth.

“Okay, fine.” I turn back to the locker and pull out a pair of underwear. Without warning her to turn around, I shed the towel and pull on the briefs. They’re black, made of some kind of stretchy Lycra shit. With those on, I might as well be naked. They’re the kind of material that’s so tight you can tell if a guy’s circumcised if you look close enough.

Right now I’m about three-quarters hard, and you can damn near see the veins on my dick outlined against the Lycra. Chloe gives me a hard look right at my cock, which gets me to about seven-eighths.

“This isn’t what I meant,” she says, looking back into my face.

“I’m covered,” I tell her. I snap the elastic waistband, getting it into a more comfortable position.

She rolls her eyes and wheels around. That’s more like it. Chloe’s at her best when she’s pissed off and just doing her best to deal with my bullshit.

“We’re going to the hot tub,” she announces.

It’s pretty obvious when we get to the training room that the hot tub isn’t hot anymore. In fact, it’s been transformed into an ice bath. I take one look at it and give her my best “oh how you have betrayed me” look.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Her grin is far too pleased. Now I know what it’s like to be on the other end of that smug satisfaction. I don’t like it.

“Get in,” she says. “It’ll help. I promise.”

It’s not like it’s my first time in an ice bath, but it’s been a while, and I’ve never liked them. She’s right, though—sometimes it’s the best medicine. Steeling myself, I slide into the water, closing my eyes as the pain of the sheer iciness of it soaks in.

“So much for my great hard-on,” I mutter.

She laughs, but she’s gone red again.

I sit for a few minutes. Once I get used to the cold, it’s not so bad, and the pain in my lower back and my wrenched leg start to fade.

Finally Chloe says, “Is that better? Is there some improvement?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I manage through chattering teeth. Then I swallow, get ahold of myself, and add, “It’s not nearly as good as that special therapy I got last time, though.”

Her teeth clack together as she clenches them in irritation. “That’s not going to happen again, Sherwood. I’m a professional. I can’t afford to be slipping up like that.”

I give her a narrow look. “I think it will happen again. I think you want it to happen again.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you keep looking at my dick like you want to lick it?”

She goes flame-red again and her brows draw together. “Stop it, Austin.”

I stand in the water; I’ve had about as much as I can take, and I know from experience that staying past a certain point doesn’t have any additional benefit.

“You do. You keep staring at it.” I glance down. “I mean, not much to stare at right now because of the cold, but I know we could get things raring to go again if we cooperated a little.”

I step out of the tub and grab a towel, scrubbing the cold off my belly and thighs. It’s going to be a while before I feel warm again. Especially with Chloe giving me that look. That look would have shriveled my balls even if I weren’t in an ice bath. And it’s not even an angry look. It’s just really, really serious and super intense.

“What?” I ask her, shivering and feeling like I’m a little kid who just came in from building snow forts. I can’t feel my toes. Or my dick. That can’t be good.

“What happened last time…” Oh, here we go. “It was fun and all, but it was a mistake. It can’t happen again.”

I should be able to just shrug that off, but for some reason I can’t. “Did somebody say something to you at work?”

She shakes her head sharply. “No, but you know it’s just a matter of time. Somebody will find out, and best case is that they take me off your case. Which would completely trash my reputation in the practice. Worst case, I lose my job.”

I study her face. She won’t meet my gaze. There’s more to this, and I’m pretty sure I know what it is.

“You’re worried about more than just your job.”

Her eyes flick back and forth again. I don’t know who she thinks might be here—it’s just her and me, and I’m sure that’s why she had us meet here in the first place. “Isn’t that enough?”

I move closer to her, trying to crowd her against the wall where it meets the side of the tub. “It’s enough. I’m just saying it’s not everything. What else is bothering you?”

“I don’t think I’m required to answer that question.”

“Of course you’re not.” I make a show of giving it some thought, then move even closer. She’s got nowhere else to go unless she ducks under my arm. She doesn’t. “Let me tell you, then.”

“How can you tell me? You don’t know.”

“No, I think I do.” I set my hand against the wall, effectively caging her into the corner.

“Enlighten me then.” Her eyes are hard, arms crossed over her chest, her mouth in an angry line. But I can see something else under the hardness. She’s going to break if I move her just the right way. She’s so ready to let go of all this garbage she’s been bottling up all this time.