Page 80 of Tight End

Brody flashed a grin. “Howdy, teach. Brought you somethin’.” He tossed an apple in the air, caught it, and then wiped it on his shirt. After inspecting the shine, he ceremoniously placed it on my desk.

“Brody!” I jumped up happily. “What are you doing here?”

I rounded my desk and threw myself into his arms. He was warm and strong and smelled exactly as I remembered from the closet, flooding my brain with memories of that night.

“Couldn’t wait until tonight,” he said. “Figured I’d waited enough since the party on Friday. Hope you’re not busy…?”

I winced. “I’m holding office hours right now. Students rarely show up, but…”

Brody held me in his arms a moment longer, then reached behind him and closed the door. The deadbolt slid into place with a metallic click.

“Better make this quick, then,” he smiled.

He threw me up against the wall, smothering his body against mine in a deep kiss that took my breath away. Brody was instantly hard, a bulge in his jeans that was as hard as steel. As his tongue churned against mine, warm and wet and hungry, I thought about how much I had wanted him for the past two days. Part of me had wondered if maybe it would just be a one-night stand. After all, Brody was a famous football player. We’d already had sex. Maybe he was satisfied with our closet affair and would move on to some other woman. None of those thoughts made logical sense, but the fear still whispered in the back of my head.

But here he was, surprising me at my office because he couldn’t wait until tonight. The relief that flooded into me was as powerful as the desire.

I want him to know how badly I’ve needed him.

I spun Brody around until he was standing in front of my desk, then broke off the kiss. I dropped to my knees, unzipped his jeans, and pulled his cock through the hole. His skin was on fire, and throbbed in my hand as if he was going to come right then and there.

I gazed up at him through my eyelashes, giving them a playful flutter. And then I wrapped my lips around his tip and got to work.

Brody sat on the edge of my desk and moaned as I sucked him off. My hair was down and strands started getting in the way, so I swirled my tongue around his crown while pulling my hair back into a ponytail.

“Didn’t know you had this side of you, T-Foxy,” he gritted out.

I paused long enough to grin up at him and say, “You make me want to be dirty.”

I enveloped him in my mouth again, pushing lower. Taking him deeper, right on the edge of gagging. What I said was true. Brody made me want to be dirty in a way that I had never felt comfortable being with other men. I wanted to give him all of me, in every way possible. I wanted him to do the same.

Brody seemed to sense this, because he grabbed a handful of my ponytail and pulled me up. He kissed me, then spun me around until I was facing the desk. He pushed me down roughly—just the right amount of roughness, manhandling me the way I needed—and pulled my pencil skirt up around my waist. I sucked in my breath as he pulled my panties aside and dug his fingers into my slit.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” he said.

“For you,” I breathed. “Hurry.”

He picked up on the urgency in my voice and wasted no time. Brody kept a hand on my back, holding me down as he guided himself between my lips. Then he filled me with the thick ridge of his cock in one long, desperate thrust.

The angle filled me with a pleasure so intense that I had to bite my lip from crying out. Brody held me down and slammed into me again and again, rocking the desk and shaking the pencils in my mug with every jolt.

The hand holding me down slid up to my shoulder, grasping and pulling me up. I arched my back, letting him in deeper as he gave me everything he had.

This is better than eating lunch outside, I thought as he ravaged me in my office.

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