Page 36 of Pucking Dirty

"Emilia, dammit. Wait."

For the first time in my life, I ignore him. He'll never get it. I don't think he wants to get it. But, being the Coach's daughter sucks. Sometimes, well, sometimes it sucks sweaty hockey balls.

Today is one of those days.

By the time my workday ends, my nerves are frayed to the breaking point. My mind hasn't been on my work. It's been on my dad. It's been on Nash. It's been all over the freaking place.

The roar fades to silence as soon as Nash appears in the doorway, his eyes locking with mine.

I immediately jump out of my chair, rushing toward him.

"Fuck," he grunts, catching me with his hands on my ass as I practically leap into his arms, desperate to feel them around me. I don't even have to ask him to kiss me. As soon as I wrap my legs around his waist, he kicks my door closed, backing me up against it.

His lips come down on mine, his kiss hot and hungry. I thrust my hands into his hair, holding him to me as I kiss him back the same exact way. I want his air in my lungs and his hands all over me. Maybe then I'll forget what a coward I am.

"I'm packing you in my bag next away game," he growls, kissing his way down my chest. His lips close around my nipple, his sharp bite delivering a shot a bliss right to my clit.

"Yeah? You think I'll fit in there beside your giant jock strap?"

"Giant, huh?"

I kick my flats off, hooking my toes into the back of his sweats to drag them down. "Let me take a look, and I'll get back to you on that."

He chuckles, burying his face between my breasts. "I fucking missed you, Emilia."

"I missed you too."

He lifts his head, grinning at me. "Yeah? You ready to show me how much you missed me?"

"Depends. You ready to put me down so I can?"

His eyes light up as he steps back, slowly lowering me down his body to the floor. I tug his hair just hard enough to hurt before releasing him and then drop to my knees at his feet.

"Fuck," he groans, tipping my head back with his fingers beneath my chin. "You belong on a goddamn throne, but I love the way you look on your knees, princess."

"I know. The proof is right in front of me." I lick my lips, staring at his cock. "Take it out, Whatley. I have measuring to do."

"Nah, baby girl. You're running this show. You take it out."

"Fine." I reach up, planting my hands against his stomach. My gaze locks with his as I embed my nails in his skin through his shirt, raking downward.

He hisses, throwing his head back as his eyes turn my favorite stormy green. "Goddamn, you little minx."

"You said I was running the show," I remind him, yanking the front of his sweats down. His dick immediately springs into view, nearly smacking me in the face. "No underwear? Mighty brave of you, Whatley."

"Figured you'd appreciate that. Get to work, princess."

"Feeling bossy, huh?" I smirk up at him and slowly lean forward, flicking my tongue out. I don't touch his cock, though. Instead, I swirl it over his hipbone.

"Feeling feisty, huh?" he growls, his hands sinking into my hair. "You want me to be bossy with you and take what I want? Is that it?"

"Maybe." I blow across his cock, fascinated at the way he trembles above me. "Or maybe I just want to torture you for a little while, see how much you can take before you beg."

"Not much," he says, a rasp in his voice. "I haven't had that perfect mouth on me in two days. I haven't been inside you in just as long. I'm already losing it."

My heart flutters, my stomach clenching. Lord, he's good at saying exactly the right thing at exactly the right time. It's not an act or manufactured charm with him, either. It's like he can't help but tell me exactly how he really feels. We'll be teasing, and the truth just spills from his lips because he can't contain it. That's so damn sexy to me.

I lean forward, plunging down on him.

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