Page 67 of Playboy

She convulses around my fingers, arching her body back.

This time I don’t rush to the next base. I’m too busy licking her clean. I want every delicious drop.

“Oh god, it’s too sensitive.” She fists my hair and tugs.

Damn, I like that. When I don’t stop licking, she pulls harder. Fuck, the move brings with it the best kind of pain.

“I need you to fuck me,” she begs.

I press a kiss to her clit and then her pubic bone, then meet her eye. The sight of the desire on her gorgeous face almost bowls me over. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

As I carry her to home plate, she wraps her arms around my neck and nuzzles into me. We’re both covered in the orange dust, but I couldn’t give a fuck. With one hand on her ass to keep her in place, I slide my boxers off and kick them out of the way. Then, without preamble, I slam into her.

“Holy shit, Daniel,” she pants, clinging to my neck. “You don’t want to sit?”

Head shaking, I tighten my hold on her ass. “You did enough work. I’m going to bounce you on my dick until you come, and then I’m going to fill you up.”

“God, yes.” She spasms around me, and stars dance in my vision. “I love that you can come inside me. It feels so fucking good.”

“You have no goddamn idea,” I grit out. I love fucking this woman. Love the way her hot, tight pussy squeezes me every time I slide inside her. “Fuck, Han. I’m not going to last. I almost came eating you.”

She chuckles, causing those spasms to intensify. “We’ll work on making you last next time. I want you to come, Daniel. Come right now.”

No way am I coming until I get her off one more time. I lower her to her back with an apology for how filthy she’ll be after this. Then, on my knees, I grip one of her ankles up on my shoulder and slide home again. It’s the most intense, incredible torture. Spine tingling, balls tightening, teeth gritted, I rub her clit in rhythmic circles as I roll my hips slowly so she feels my piercing with every thrust.

“Oh god. Yes, right there.”

She cries out, and my world comes apart. With a low groan, I unload inside her, pulse after pulse. My vision is only just returning when a light on the far side of the field turns on. Then another.

“Holy shit.” Hannah drapes her arms over her torso, trying to cover herself.

I yank her to her feet and grab her dress. Thank fuck we made it back to where we began. Then I pick her up and dart for the door, snagging clothes from the ground as I go. We’ve just pulled the door open when a deep voice bellows, “Security.”

Safely on the other side, once again out of breath, I sort through the clothes I picked up. I’ve got shorts and her dress. That’s it. “Fuck, we definitely left stuff on the field.”

Hannah is covered in a light dusting of dirt. Her hair is a complete mess, her lips swollen and mascara smudged, but she’s laughing so damn hard. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such pure happiness.

“Holy shit, we almost got caught having sex at my work.” She covers her mouth, doubling over with laughter.

“So much for texting the security guards,” I mumble as I push her toward the locker room across the hall.

Hannah disappears, her hips swaying as she goes, like she doesn’t have a single worry in the world. When she returns, she holds a towel out to me. “Clean off the dust. Don’t want themto see us on a camera in the concourse and figure out that the panties and shirt they find are from us.”

A scoff escapes me. “Hannah, I don’t have a shirt. If they see us on the cameras, they’re going to know we were the ones out there.”

She shakes her head. “Give me a little credit, Hall. I’m good at my job.”

And I’ll hand it to her. She pulls me into the locker room and procures a Revs shirt. Then she leads me down a hall where she assures me there are no cameras. We slip through a secret door that leads to the tunnels beneath all the Langfield facilities. We pass by Ground Zero quickly. Though there’s no game tonight, low music rumbles from behind the closed door, which means there are at least a few players there. When we finally hit the arena, relief washes over me. I could move through this space with my eyes closed, and if we stay in the tunnels, we can make it to the players’ parking garage without being seen.

By the time we step out into the warm night air again, we’re grinning at one another.

“Think you’ll be hearing from security?” I ask as I walk her back to her apartment.

She shrugs. “I’ll figure it out if I do. I’m good at thinking on my feet.”

I wrap my arm around her waist, keeping her close. “On your knees, on your back, on your feet.” I kiss her head. “You’re good at everything, dream girl.”

She throws her head back, laughing. “Right back at you, Playboy.”

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