Page 39 of Rookie Move

“You were supposed to kick me out,” he grumbled against the top of her head.

She felt the vibrations of his words down to her toes and shuddered when he skated one hand down her spine.

“So, how about that awesome morning sex you keep talking about? Then I’ll kick you out,” she teased, lifting her head to meet his desire-filled eyes.

“Or I could stay,” he said, rolling them so that she was underneath him, the air leaving her in a gasp.

“Desmond.”

“Rylie.” He echoed her tone.

He started kissing down her body, nipping at her hips and tracing her curves with his tongue. By the time he reached her clit to give her a proper wake-up call, she’d forgotten all about kicking him out.

***

An hour later,after multiple orgasms on both their parts, Rylie was sprawled out on top of Desmond, her chin resting on her steepled hands as he grinned at her.

“Best wake-up call?” he asked.

She laughed. “Absolutely.”

Then someone knocked on her door.

“Rylie. Open up. I thought we were on for breakfast.” Her father’s voice boomed through the door.

“Oh shit,” she gasped. She rolled off of Desmond and tried not to panic.

“It’s going to be okay,” Desmond said.

“How the fuck are you so calm? That’s your coach out there,” she said, covering her face with her hands. She should’ve told him to leave as soon as they’d woken up. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Rylie? Everything okay?” her dad asked, thankfully still on the other side of the door.

“Yep. One second,” she said, and then stumbled getting out of bed. “Fuck. Ouch,” she called out when she whacked her toe on the nightstand.

“Are you okay?” Desmond asked, scooting off the bed.

“What is going on in there?” her dad shouted. “Is someone in there with you?”

Desmond’s concern would’ve been better if he’d kept his damn mouth shut.

“Just tell him, Rylie. It’s going to be fine,” Desmond whispered, pulling his shirt over his head and reaching for his pants.

“Fine. But it’s your funeral,” she muttered, yanking on her clothes and trying to ignore her throbbing toe.

“Rylie, open this damn door,” her father barked.

Rylie gave Desmond one last look before she turned and opened the door.

As soon as the door swung open, her father was looking over her shoulder.

“Lachley, what the hell are you doing here?”

She tried not to wince at his tone. Shit. There were so many ways they could’ve avoided this. So many other locations she would have preferred to come clean than here, stumbling out of her bedroom where they clearly looked sexed up.

“Hello, Coach,” Desmond said, sounding completely calm.

Bastard.She was a freaking wreck.

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