Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (29 page)

BOOK: Playing Dirty (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)
4.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Her hips moved in a rhythm with my pumping fingers, rolling in a desperate effort to come already, and I grinned. “Be patient,” I said, leaning down and murmuring against her ear.

Then I moved all the way down between her legs, sliding her panties all the way off, and Keira moaned in frustration as I blew warm breath on her sweet pussy.

“Stop…teasing…me,” she managed to gasp out as I pressed my fingers against the sweet spot inside her.

I darted my tongue out and ran it up her slit, and her hips replied to the action, pushing up into my face. I pulled my fingers out of her before settling my mouth on her clit, letting my tongue do all the work now, and as she let out a soft whimper of pleasure, I rewarded her with more pressure. Her legs seized up, locking around my head, and I knew I’d found the right spot. I quickly pulled away. As much as I wanted to make her explode this very second, I wanted to feel her tightening around my cock when she came.

I pulled a condom out of my pocket, and as I ripped it open with my teeth, I took my cock in my hand and stroked it a few times before sliding the protection down over it.

Lining myself up at the apex of Keira’s thighs, I rubbed the head through her wetness, teasing her again.

She hooked her feet behind my back, desperate for me to fill her, and I let out a groan as I eased myself inside of her. Jesus, she was so tight and warm, and I had to try not to surrender to the need to lose control and bury myself balls deep inside her. I drew out and then inched my way in further, building momentum each time I slid into her perfect pussy, and I grazed the pad of my thumb against her clit with each movement.

"God…Andrew…” Keira moaned as she began to shudder with pleasure.

Her breath came out raw, her eyes burning with need, and I picked up speed. That was enough to push her over the edge, and the cries of bliss leaving her mouth drove me forward, pushing me closer to my own climax.

“Yes…more!” she moaned, her hips thrusting up into me again and again.

I fucked her harder and harder, and she whimpered softly, taking all that I gave her while still begging for more. The snugness of her pussy finally became too much for my worked up state, and I knew I was about to come. Keira must’ve been able to read the look in my eyes, because she gasped out a few words.

“Do it,” she said. “Come.”

Letting go, I felt my balls tense up, and a hot sensation flashed through me as I continued to pound into her, thrusting once, twice, and then a third time before exploding inside of her with a deep groan.

We lay there in the hay, our bodies coated in a thin sheen of sweat, trying to catch our breath. Five minutes later and careful not to be seen, we sneaked back into the small tack room and kissed goodbye.

“I get off work at six,” Keira said tentatively, as if she was making a comment and not necessarily suggesting anything.

“Do you know the old linen closet on the third floor?”

“I’d have to find an excuse to go up there.”

“Can you?”

She smiled. “It’ll give me something to think about this afternoon.”

 

***

 

The linen closet proved to be less romantic than the hay loft, but much more comfortable, although a sense of hygiene and guilt prompted us to add the sheets we’d borrowed to the outgoing laundry.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Keira said.

“We can’t?”

“It’s wrong, isn’t it? Although saying that actually makes me want it more.”

“Why’s it wrong?” I asked. Nothing about the last hour had seemed ‘wrong’ to me. Sure, there’d been a few grey areas, but nothing actually wrong.

“You’re my boss.”

“Technically my mother’s your boss.”

“Well, that makes it even worse!” she replied. “I don’t like to feel like I’m betraying your mother’s trust. Especially given my last conversation with her, where I tried my hardest to convince her that I wasn’t hooking up with you.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“We’re lying to people.”

“Only by omission.”

“We’re sneaking around behind people’s backs.”

I shrugged. “Well, if we didn’t, then we’d have to start lying directly to people rather than by omission. Everybody’s better off this way, right?”

Keira raised an eyebrow. “I think you might be rationalizing.” She stood up. “This has to be the last time. And we both know that.”

I nodded. I hated to admit it, but Keira was right. It wasn’t fair on the other people in our lives and in the long run it wasn’t fair on us. We couldn’t have a real relationship this way, sneaking around and having sex in strange places. No matter how incredible the sex was, it would have to stop.

It just had to.

***

Eighteen and a half hours later, Keira flopped on the back seat of the Rolls Royce Phantom, exhausted, and she gasped out a sentence.

“Okay.
That
was the last time.”

I nodded as I tried to get my breath back. “Absolutely. Everyone’s entitled to one little back-slide and this was ours.”

“Exactly. But no more.”

“No more.” I paused. “Could I ask a question?”

“A question?”

“Sort of an enquiry about the rules.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Well,” I began, “when we say this is the last time, do we mean the last time in general, or just this session?”

Keira bit at her lower lip. “I wasn’t aware that this was a session.”

“I suppose what I’m saying is: it could be, so is that allowed or has our last time come and gone? So to speak.”

Keira considered the question. “I think calling this our last session remains true to the spirit of what we agreed.” She kissed me, drawing me back down on top of her.

But I had one more question. “So, if this is our last session rather than our last time, doesn’t that mean that another two times is an option, since it’d all be part of the same session?”

“You’ve got another two in you?”

“If it’s my last chance, then I’ll bloody well make it happen.”

We kissed again, melting into each other in the steamed up back of the car.

“I’m really proud of us,” Keira murmured between kisses. “It’s not easy to have this much self-control.”

I grinned. “Yeah. I don’t know how we do it...”

Chapter 12

Andrew

 

“Well,
that
time was nobody’s fault.”

It was a Tuesday, and I’d bumped into Keira during her lunch break, which she’d taken in the rose garden.

“There was no way I could have known you’d be there,” I said, nodding in agreement.

“Didn’t I mention it earlier?”

“No, I don’t think so. This was all a complete coincidence.”

“And then you pointed out how secluded the arbor was, and really, from then on it was inevitable. Nobody’s fault.”

“Absolutely.”

“And a nice way to round things off between us.”

“Agreed.”

“But never again.”

“I think we’re both agreed on that.”

And we were. But that afternoon, I happened to glance out the window and saw the light rain that had started after lunch becoming heavier and setting in for the day. Although we had supposedly put aside any thoughts of physical or romantic relations, I still cared about Keira’s wellbeing, and the thought of her having to walk to the bus stop in the rain upset me. The thought of her standing there, hair wet, clothes drenched to transparency, clinging to her curvaceous body like a second skin as she trembled with…

I leapt up and headed for the garage.

It was no easy task giving Keira a lift home without anyone else noticing—let alone slipping away from the royal guard who usually followed me around when I left the palace—but I damn well managed it, because I was Andrew bloody Arlington, and when it came to Keira’s wellbeing, I wasn’t going to let them or anyone else stand in my way.

We finally arrived at the apartment she was staying in, and I put the hood up on my jacket as I walked her to her door, so I wouldn’t be recognized by some nosy neighbor.

“Did you want to come in for coffee?” she asked hesitantly.

“Better not,” I said. It was best to not give temptation even the slightest opportunity to take hold.

“Tea?”

“Okay.”

That was different. I was British, and if there was one thing that every British person grows up knowing, it’s that there was absolutely nothing sexual about tea.

Inside, we chatted pleasantly and one cup of tea turned into two, the time slipping away in good company without either of us realizing it until all excuses for me to remain longer had been exhausted.

“I suppose I should…” I vaguely indicated the door.

“I suppose,” Keira said with a nod. She was silent a moment then spoke again. “You know what’s kinda funny?”

“Let me guess…my face?”

“That too, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of. I was thinking that since I met you I’ve been worried about you trying to get me into bed, and in fact, a bed is pretty much the one place we never did it.”

“That is funny,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. Another pause. “Kind of a gap, don’t you think?”

I sat up straight. “I know what you mean. It makes the whole thing seem somehow incomplete.”

“Exactly!” Keira leapt on this interpretation. “Maybe the reason that we’re having trouble ending it, besides bad luck…”

“Obviously.”

“…is that it still feels incomplete,” she finished.

“Because we never did it in a bed.”

“Yes!”

“Well, shit, you’re absolutely right. It seems so obvious when you explain it like that.”

Though neither of us had been aware of it happening, we’d both stood up during this exchange, and now I was sweeping Keira off her feet and into my arms.

“Bedroom is…?”

Keira pointed.

“Right. But this is the last time.”

“Yes,” Keira said before adding, “last ‘time’ or last session?”

I considered the question; it had been a long day already. “Let’s see how it goes.”

I headed for the bedroom, Keira giggling in my arms.

 

***

 

Over the next few days, the ‘last times’ continued with a regularity that taxed both our energy and our imaginations in coming up with justifications for each ‘last time’. And yet we persevered. We both knew that it was a bad idea, but somehow stopping would’ve been an even worse idea. Letting go of something so good was fucking hard; way harder than it sounded on paper. Still, that specter of something bad continued to loom, and three tiring weeks after our initial agreement to end things, it finally descended.

We’d met in the library—purely by ‘chance’ of course—and after coming up with some tortured justification for why this was a valid ‘last time’, we were in each other’s arms with hands hastily trespassing into the other’s clothes.

Keira suddenly froze.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“All I can hear is the sound of you being sexy as hell,” I said with an exaggerated wink. I knew I wasn’t funny, not even in the slightest, but Keira seemed to love my sense of humor.

“I’m serious! Listen,” she replied before holding a finger to her lips.

We were both silent, and when the sound of our own hearts and heavy breathing had died away enough, we heard footsteps coming our way. We ducked behind a bookshelf just in time as the footsteps reached our aisle before coming to a halt.

“Hello?”

I tried not to make a sound, forcefully holding my breath, and I could feel Keira doing the same thing. The voice had been Michael’s.

“Is someone there?”

The footsteps now began down the aisle, and we tiptoed as quickly and silently as we could down the adjacent one. Fortunately the library of Richmond Palace didn’t have those slot-together shelves made of thin metal that you find in public libraries—these shelves were solid English oak, loaded with thick, heavy books, guaranteed to slow the speed of sound to a crawl and create a soundscape of echoes that made you wonder if you’d actually heard what you thought you’d heard and from which direction you might have heard it.

“Tch!” Michael tutted to himself as he reached the end of the aisle, where we’d been hiding mere moments before. “Hum.”

That seemed to indicate that he’d written the noise he’d heard off as one of the many creaks and whispers that emerge from any old building.

Keira and I listened to the footsteps as they went away, terminating in the opening and closing of the heavy library door. We both breathed a sigh of relief.

“We really do have to stop soon, don’t we?” Keira said, a dejected tone in her voice.

“I think maybe we do.”

“So…make this the last time?”

“Well, he’s gone now,” I said with a nod. “It’d be stupid to waste the opportunity.”

As I took Keira in my arms, I wondered if, despite all the good reasons to do so and all that we were risking, I was really capable of letting her go. I knew it would be the right thing to do, but a sneaky voice in my mind told me the truth as to whether I could really do it or not.

Not a chance in hell.

Other books

Hitmen Triumph by Sigmund Brouwer
Thomas Murphy by Roger Rosenblatt
Room Service by Vanessa Stark
Carly’s Voice by Arthur Fleischmann
The Best of British Crime omnibus by Andrew Garve, David Williams, Francis Durbridge
Gayle Buck by Hearts Betrayed