Page 41 of Sideline Play

We’ve spent every night together, his things slowly coming back up to his bedroom to live amongst mine. We kiss all the time—first thing in the morning, over breakfast, lunch, and dinner, any time one of us leaves the room or enters, following every rehab session, sometimes even during, and at night before bed. It’s constant, and I bask in it each and every time but especially when they linger, grow, and leave my panties damp. His hands creeping up my shirt or dress; my lips deviating course to his neck and chest where my tongue begins to learn the taste of him; pulling me to sit astride his lap as he sucks and nips along my neck until my hips are rolling over his hard cock, the friction exhilarating as my breath quickens.

It’s perfect and blissful and everything I had hoped one day to have with someone. And so far, my past has remained wonderfully silent. I’m not naïve enough to believe it’ll stay that way, but to have this much is more than I thought I would get, and it has me ready for more. Ready to modify the control Remington has so easily given me. Ready to show how much I trust him.

Swiping my Kindle from the breakfast nook, I hoist Winnie into my arms and follow Remi down to the lower level of his house. Stopping on the last step, I squat low to the ground andlaugh as her wiggle butt moves in excitement. Like the upper two floors, one wall of the living area turned gym is taken up by windows. In the center, the doors are pulled open to showcase the infinity edge pool.

Scampering over to where Remington is warming up on the treadmill, Winnie licks his hand before hurling herself toward the doors.

“Ah! Get back here,” he scolds, making me cringe as he hops up to stand on the sides before stepping off.

“Remi, your hip is not?—”

“My hip feels fine. I’ve done the research and know that you’re coddling me, Scar.” Patting his leg as he eyes Winnie down, she slinks back over and sits with a humpf. “You know better; life jacket first. Your mamma and I would be very sad if something happened to you. Besides, I have somethin’ for ya.”

I swear, my dog actually sighs and looks to me for help. Shrugging and holding my hands out, I agree, “His pool, his rules, Winnie girl.”

She slowly follows after him with me bringing up the caboose, shooing her to go faster. Reaching into one of the storage benches outside, Remi turns around proudly holding up a pink Doberman size life jacket with little crowns polka dotting throughout, a perfect match to her collar and leash.

“Oh my God!” I squeal, hopping on my toes. “Remi, where did you find this?” Making grabby hands, I take it from him and begin fitting it around Winnie. Once secure, I give her a quick pat above her stump, sending her racing for his heated pool, a giant splash arcing towards us as she jumps in. Too excited to contain myself, I run to him and jump in his arms, my legs locking around his tapered waist as I pepper him with kisses. “Oh, my God; it’s perfect! I love it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Cupping my butt and hardly staggering under my impact, he kisses me back and says, “I’m always gonna take care of my girls, Scar. You and her.” Then looking far too mischievous he points out, “Notice how I caught you, didn’t stumble, and am managing to hold you still? Told you, I can handle more than you’re giving me.”

“You still use the cane,” I argue, beginning to climb down.

“Because I get my butt chewed out by all five foot five of you if I don’t. You can be quite the little terror when you want. Could give your dad a run for his money over who the team would be more afraid of.”

Sighing as we head back inside, Remington turning on one of the outdoor cameras so we can keep an eye on Winnie, I concede, “MaybeI coddle you alittlebit. Jennings has trusted me with your career though, and I don’t want to screw up.You’vetrusted me with your career.”

“Exactly, Scar. I trust you. Jennings trusts you. Trust yourself, and you’re not gonna screw up. I believe in you. No matter how gorgeous you are or how enthralled I am, if I didn’t have faith and confidence that you would be the best one to help me, I wouldn’t have agreed to this. So do your worst.”

“You’ll let me know thesecondsomething becomes uncomfortable beyond normal, right?”

“I promise.”

“And you’ll do everything I tell you.”

“Without question.”

Grabbing my clipboard, I look at the program we’ve been following and flip through several pages. Glancing between where he should be and where he is, I realize how overly cautious I’ve been with him.

“Okay, warm up on the treadmill. Put a slight incline, no more 3%, for some resistance. We’ll work up to more over thenext several days. Ten minutes and then we’re getting on the floor. But Remi, you’re gonna hate me by the end of the week.”

“Do your worst, baby girl.”

EIGHTEEN

SCARLET

Two hours later,Winnie is exhausted from her swim and sleeping under the TV that’s playingSecret Life of Pets 2,and Remington is laying on my massage table, the sheet and blanket we used for modesty now tossed to the floor.

Applying pressure to his inner thigh with the heel of my palm, I make tight circles, slowly sweeping up and down, reaching higher with each rotation. He moans when I find a forming knot and begin working it loose, the sound deep, throaty, and highly arousing. Tucking my head down as I clench my thighs against the tingle in my clit, I focus a bit more pressure on the spot, making him hiss my name, his growing dick trapped inside his tight boxers catching my eye.

Moving up toward the joint and groin, I switch to using my finger tips. My breath comes in short, panting bursts, as I feel his lower body tense, give a short jerk upward, and then relax. It’s the same involuntary reflex he gives me when I’m writhing in his lap while we make out.

I could get lost learning each response his body gives off under my touch. It’s heady and powerful knowing I fray hisrestraint as easily as he does mine. That with a few well placed touches along his skin, he can become as desperate as me.

When he swears my name again, his cock jumping up and leaving a small drop of moisture in his underwear, I think I actually whimper, the urge to pull the waistband back and lick him visceral.

“Scar, baby,” he rasps, hazily breaking me out of my trance, my hands having stopped working at some point. “Imma need you to distract me.”

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