Page 92 of The Show

I stared at my phone, not daring to move or look round in case he caught my eye or I drew any kind of attention to myself. It also took me a good thirty seconds to figure out exactly how I was going to leave this group without rousing suspicion, because I clearly wasn’t capable of coherent thought when my heart was beating in time to the thudding between my thighs. The one which had kicked up the second he’d returned.

“I’m going to find the bathroom,” I announced loudly as I jumped up.

“Up the stairs to the left…”

I was tempted to take the stairs two at a time, but stuck with one, because - you know - trying to act normal really required more thought that I realized. I also realized I had no clue how I was going to find the blue bleachers. When I got to the top of the metal gridded steps, I turned round to see the general direction, but there didn’t seem to be an easy route to take. Standing up had also created a desperate urge to pee, so I ducked into the nearest bathroom and prayed I didn’t bump into Lauren or Beulah.

Fifteen minutes later I found where I was supposed to be, deep underneath the stands.

Penn was leaning against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his thick biceps crossed over his chest. The brim of his cap was hiding his eyes, his scruff-covered jaw set in a rigid line, but as I approached, a slow, knowing smile curled one side of his mouth, pursing his lips until they were begging to be kissed.

Once again I questioned my sanity. How had I never noticed him before? Never noticed that Penn Shepherd was a walking, talking sex bomb? He oozed it. Delicious. Slow. Hard. Fast. Sensual. And what’s more, he was well aware of it. He’d trapped me in his magnetic field, and I had no way to escape.

It was impossible to imagine anyone saying no to him. I was indisputable evidence of that, seeing as he’d had me slobbering Pavlovian style the second I’d read the message summoning me here. It hadn’t even occurred to me to say no. He’d kept me on a steady simmer since we’d left brunch; since he’d ordered me to come to the game. Since he’d refused to let me go home.

He stayed where he was, watching me approach. The light bursting through the slats flickered with the shadows casting an intermittent darkness like a disco-ball, and I was the one who was about to dance under it.

My racing heart was pumping the adrenaline through my veins faster than I could cope with it. Every cell in my body was vibrating, ready to be quelled by his touch.

“You’re late,” he announced, flipping his cap round before his big hands cupped either side of my face.

I didn’t have the chance to reply. His lips surrounded mine, not bothering to ask for permission, but ordering me to open up for him. I’d have surrendered either way, his tongue assaulting me in a kiss like the man had been starved.

The scent of his hot body rose up like fire, obliterating what was left of any senses I had. Even in the space of the past few days I knew for a fact I’d never wanted anyone like I wanted Penn. I knew from the desperation coursing through me, desperation to have any and all parts of him touching me, because I couldn’t get enough.

His hands were everywhere - my ass, my legs, my stomach, my breasts, my face - roaming, roaming incase he’d forgotten any curve or sinew, in case something had changed in the four hours since he’d last touched me.

“You drive me crazy, Lowe.” He sucked on the skin below my earlobe. “Being next to you and not getting to touch you… I’ve done it for too long, and now I know what it feels like, I’m going to crack under the pressure of not having my hands on you whenever I want.”

My neck lolled to the side of its own accord as his lips continued their journey while he muttered.

“I did as you requested. I followed your wishes, and I can’t take it any longer. I’m a strong man, but I’m on the verge of breaking. I need you to do something for me now.”

“Is that how it works?” Air hissed through my teeth as his hands brushed against my bare, overheated skin, his thumb sweeping across my nipple.

I was prepared to give him anything he asked of me, I didn’t even care if we were caught. I wanted him to fuck me, right here, right now, under the bleachers to the soundtrack of cheers as another home run was scored.

“Yeah, that’s how I work. Do you have any idea how much I want you? How hard you make me?” He slowly rubbed his groin against mine with a deep groan, not that he’d needed to; I could feel the outline of his dick through both our clothing. I wanted it so much my mouth watered.

“This is gonna be quick, but I’ll make it up to you later.” He spun me round, and in one deft move, before I’d barely had time to register what was happening, he’d unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down.

He knelt, his hands roaming over my bare ass, pulling my cheeks apart. The hot, wet sensation of his tongue licking along my crack had my knees buckling, I would have toppled over if he hadn’t been holding on to me.

My groan was drowned out by another cheer from the crowds.

“Put your palms against the wall.”

I did as I was ordered.

His fingers journeyed round to the front of my body, slipping between my thighs until he found exactly what he was looking for.

“Fuuck. You’re sopping. Your pussy is so desperate for me she’s been crying. She knows you belong to me. When will you admit you do too, Mrs. Michaelson? When will you realize you’re mine?”

I could hear his words, could hear him speaking, but I couldn’t make sense of anything he was saying; the lazy pace he was taking to ghost back and forth over my clit was quickly driving me to madness.

“When you go back and sit down with the others, you’re going to have to keep your legs crossed so no one sees how wet you are for me. How much you’ve been dripping for me.”

His fingers were still hovering over my clit; the tease of pressure was almost too much. A steady beat of tiny pulses were undulating deep inside me but I needed more, so much more. I needed nothing less than an explosion.

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