Page 68 of Love Game

He pressed the tip of his finger to her entrance. “Yes?”

She nodded, and he thrust deep inside her. The whistle fell from her mouth on a gasp. Wide-eyed with shock and desire, she gaped at him. Eyes locked on hers, he fumbled with his belt as he finger-fucked her fast and hard. “It doesn’t matter, Kate.” He ground the words out like gravel from his throat. “You and me. It’s what we say that matters.”

Her body bowed as he pressed the pad of his thumb to her clit. “Yes.”

The rasp of his zipper caught her attention. She tucked her chin to her chest, watching with interest as he worked his jeans and boxer briefs over his hips without missing a stroke. His cock sprang free, thick and hard. She shifted, eager to touch, but Danny wasn’t having any of that. He slipped his finger from her wetness and loomed over her, bending his knees to align their bodies. Then he was inside her.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Nothing should feel this good.”

Gratified as always by the wonder in his observation, she smiled. He pushed her back, oblivious to everything but his obvious need to dominate her, and in that moment, she was more than happy to let him have the upper hand. Even if it meant having the imprint of her red Swingline stapler permanently tattooed on her back. She ran her hands over the mesh polo he wore, felt his heart thrumming hard and fast beneath the placket, and smoothed the clingy knit over his rock-hard abs. The bunched fabric of his jeans abraded her inner thighs. She punished him for his state of half dress by hitching her hips higher and digging the heels of her shoes into the flexing muscle of his bare ass.

“I love making love to you.”

A flashbang of heat and hunger flared inside her. The confession was rough and rasping, its content not nearly as shocking as its phraseology. Usually his talk was edgier, dirtier, and used four-letter words that didn’t include the letters L, O, V, and E. A lump rose in her throat as the sensations he stirred inside her reached fever pitch. He made that hoarse hitching noise that signaled the fraying of his control. He slipped a hand between them, his aim unerring. He circled and stroked her, matching the maddening thrills incited by the combination of hand and cock, kisses and whispers, and love…

Oh God, she loved him, and he loved her, and they were on her desk, for God’s sake.

“Kate…”

That helpless croak was all it took. She flew, her fingernails digging into shoulder and scalp, her hips bucking against the unyielding wall of his pelvis, demanding more, taking him deeper, contracting around him until she wrung every shudder from the big, tough ballplayer cradled in her arms. The one who just “made love” to her. On her desk. In broad daylight. With their boss just down the corridor.

She stroked his hair, loathe to break the spell but all too aware that they’d crossed yet another line. “This is insane. We can’t do this.” She tempered the words with a tender kiss on the top of his head.

“I know. Mike warned me specifically not to do this.” He nuzzled her ear. “Maybe that’s why I went a little crazy.”

“Just a little?” She couldn’t repress her grin as he sagged against her. “Nuh-uh. Up, big guy.” Balancing precariously on one hand, she gave his shoulder a shove. “I have a stapler in my back, and I’m pretty sure we just desecrated a letter from the president of the NCAA.”

“Consecrated,” he corrected, lifting his head to look her in the eye. “The man would be ecstatic to see this much action.”

“Danny.” She gave him another fruitless push. “I wasn’t kidding about the stapler.”

With a reluctant sigh, he began to disengage. “Sorry.”

He put himself back together in the time it took her to locate her bra. A smirk twisted her lips as she pulled the lace and satin off Wilt Chamberlain’s head. Her staff had given her the life-sized cutout as a gag gift on her last birthday. Now, the basketball legend stood sentry in the corner, his short-shorts exposing miles of leg and his knowing eyes following her every move. She refused to flinch. With supposedly twenty thousand women under his belt, Mr. Chamberlain had no room to judge. Surely he’d seen things more scandalous than some stray lingerie and a desktop tryst.

Snatching her T-shirt from the floor, she shrugged into it and yanked it down until it covered her bare ass. “I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, but…” She turned to find Danny standing in the same spot, his feet braced for battle and her pants and panties in his hands.

“But you are,” he answered with a terse nod.

Unwilling to give another inch of ground, she untangled her clothes and bent to finish dressing right in front of him. She managed to get her panties on and one foot into her pants. Then she felt his fingers trailing lightly over the spot where the stapler dug into her skin. She froze when he bent and pressed a tender kiss to the impression.

“I’m sorry. I just…” He let the thought trail off as he straightened.

Kate thrust her other leg into her pants and yanked them into place. Pivoting on her heel, she met his gaze. “You just?”

“I think I’m in… I mean. I…”

Panic flared in his eyes, and for a second, she was tempted to take pity on him. But that second passed. She wanted him to say what she thought he wanted to say. And she wanted him to say it first. She raised both brows and plastered her best patient-coach expression on her face. One she hadn’t needed with the twelve- to fourteen-year-olds that morning, but it looked like Danny would need every bit of encouragement she had if he was ever going to work up the nerve to tell her what she wanted to hear. He opened his mouth, and she drew a shallow breath, holding it deep in her lungs as a damper on her own need to say how she felt about him.

“I’m picking you up at seven,” he blurted. “We’re going out to dinner. In public.”

The air rushed from her lungs. She turned her glare on his back as he strode to the door.

He paused, his hand gripping the handle, but he didn’t look back at her. “Wear a skirt. I like looking at your legs.”

She spewed the first words that came to mind. “Screw you.”

“Just did,” he retorted, finally glancing at her over his shoulder. “Loved every second of it, and so did you.”

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