Page 2 of Loaded Laces

Of course, Belle derails that.

Funny that.

Her derailing my plans.

It’s like she’s born to do it.

Like she’splannedto.

When I stand, I do it quickly, so quickly that she stumbles backward, eyes going wide.

Mine aren’t wide. They’re dragging down the front of her body—noticing that while her face has barely aged over the last decade, her body sure as fuck has grown up.

She’s curved in all the right places. Tits I want to bury my face in. Hips that are perfectly shaped so that I can hold on tight as I plunge deep. God, I bet her ass is fantastic.

I don’t get the chance to appreciate it, though.

Because she’s still skittering backward…toward the Eagles logo on the carpet.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

I sway forward, wrapping an arm around her middle, drawing her to a halt.

“Wh—?”

“Don’t step on the logo,” I mutter.

“The what—?” She freezes, eyes going wide again, head jerking to look over her shoulder and down at the eagle emblazoned on the floor. “Oh,” she whispers. “Thelogo.”

I nod, and I know I have a choice—I can release her, ignore her question, finish getting changed, and go home to my nice house, my nice life, my nice bank account.OrI can do…

What I do next.

Which is to say, I don’treallyhave a choice.

I’ve already made the decision.

I tighten my arm around her middle, draw her flush against me, enjoying the feel of those lush tits against my side for a moment before she starts protesting and I start moving, bringing her along with me as I slip out of the locker room door and into the hall.

The space is quiet, all the action taking place inside where the guys and press are.

Still, I know it’s a lucky coincidence.

After games are busy times, and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes along.

Which is why I move quickly, dragging her forward, ignoring her sputtered protests, and shoving through one of the doors.

I release her once we’re inside the empty office, flicking on the lights as I close the door behind us.

Then I turn to the woman who broke my heart and ask a question of my own,

“What the fuck are you doing here after all this time, Belle?”

Two

Belle

Right.

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