Page 61 of Hotshot

Minutes later, Ella was on her knees, nibbling her way down Sloane’s stomach. “Damn, I love athletes’ bodies.” Ella raised her head. “Yours particularly, of course. Flat stomach. Hard muscle.” She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s enough to drive us mere mortals completely insane.”

“It’s the only reason I keep it this way,” Sloane managed to croak out.

Ella teased her fingertips up Sloane’s inner thighs, dragged her underwear off with her teeth – was there anything more erotic? – then pressed her fingertips back to where Sloane needed them most.

“You’re killing me,” Sloane growled.

She crawled up Sloane like a wildcat, eyes alight, then shifted her mouth to Sloane’s ear. “That’s the idea,” she replied, as her tongue flicked out and caressed Sloane’s lobe. Seconds later, she slipped two fingers inside and pressed them home with her thigh.

Sloane gasped, as flashes of desire arrowed through her. Her body coiled tighter as Ella worked up a slow, deliberate, teasing rhythm. She glanced up and caught naked need behind Ella’s eyes, as well as tenderness. With her injury, Ella was being courteous. Not going too fast, making sure she didn’t jolt her ankle. She was jolting every part of Sloane, so that was a lost cause.

But tenderness mixed with lust was an intense combination. Sloane’s insides swayed. Her mind reeled. She raised her hips to greet Ella’s delicious motion, and when Ella found her G-spot, Sloane’s head pressed deeper into her pillow, the moment swallowing her whole.

Desire rolled through her like an express train. She was so close. But Ella wasn’t going to make it that easy. She introduced her other hand and circled Sloane’s clit, all the while keeping up the rhythm with her fingers.

Sloane tried to slow down her response, but it was hopeless. She’d lost control, and she didn’t care. When she pried open her eyes to look at Ella, her sure chestnut-brown gaze was on her. Gauging her needs. Sloane couldn’t speak, didn’t want to. She just wanted Ella to carry on what she was doing, and do more of it. She loved every part of Ella solo, and every part of them together. In moments, Ella’s lips pressed to her own. She teased her tongue beyond Sloane’s lips, and curled her fingers inside to make Sloane go wild. It worked like a charm.

Sloane came apart with a low, rumbling groan as luminous pleasure shredded her. Her butt raised off the bed as she ground into Ella as deep as she could, and she didn’t care. Plus, she was doing so with some aplomb, her good side taking all her weight. It wasn’t just flat stomachs that were a perk of dating athletes. Core strength came into it, too. But her core shook as Ella slid in and out slowly, taking her down, before bringing her back up.

Sloane’s butt sank back to the mattress and her gaze locked with Ella’s again.

Sloane’s breathing hitched. She didn’t look away.

Neither did Ella. “You feel so good,” Ella whispered, then brought her lips to Sloane. “So right.”

Sloane’s heart pulsed, quickly followed by every fibre of her being as Ella held her gaze, then circled her once more with her fingertips. Round and round Sloane’s hardened clit, and then up and over, back and forth until Sloane fell apart under her hooded gaze.

She was in heaven. Ella was heaven. Christmas Day was heaven.

She already knew she’d never have another that lived up to this.

CHAPTER22

Ella woke the following morning to the sound of rain battering the window. Her eyelids released and she took in where she was. There had been occasions in her younger years where she’d woken up and wondered where she was. That was in a period just after her mum died, where she went on a bit of a shagging marathon, sleeping with any woman who’d have her for a few weeks, and then dating Reba. It hadn’t lasted, just like her relationship. Since that split, she’d lived almost like a monk. Which was why Marina had signed her up for Honey Pot. She smiled to herself. Maybe, now, that wasn’t needed.

And then, she’d seduced Sloane yesterday. Because make no mistake, that’s precisely what had happened. Ella had planned to hold off. But Sloane’s foot was healing fast. So long as she kept any weight off it, it could heal while Ella made love to her. And so, she had. She’d quenched her long dry spell in spectacular fashion.

She glanced Sloane’s way. She was in bed with the international footballer of the year. The footballer of the year had mussed hair and looked pretty fucking adorable. Also, highly fuckable.

Would this be problematic? Maybe, but it was also something Ella couldn’t even pretend to control. There’d been a pull between them ever since they’d met. This was just the culmination of a whole lot of time spent together.

However, she couldn’t pretend there weren’t issues. They worked together, but thankfully Ella wasn’t on the football side of coaching (out of bounds for relationships), and she had no say in picking the team. That made a difference. Relationships between physios and sports stars happened all the time. She didn’t imagine it would be any different for her role. They’d have to be up front, but she didn’t anticipate any issues from Lucy, so long as they kept everything professional. Which they would at work.

The bigger issue was that Sloane might not be here long. Plus, she was a star, whereas Ella was very much a private person. The first person she slept with in forever had to be famous, didn’t she? She couldn’t just meet someone out of the public eye? But Sloane’s drive and passion were what made her who she was. If they got together and started dating – she was getting way ahead of herself – how would that work? How would she handle it?

She shook herself. One night together, and she was already anticipating issues. She needed to chill. Relax. Live in the moment, and let whatever was going to happen, happen. You couldn’t control other people or the universe. Ella told her clients that every day. You could only control your reaction to it.

It didn’t make it any easier to deal with. What she needed to remember was that she’d had an incredible night in Sloane’s bed. Which might also lead to more incredible nights to come. Plus, she’d made Sloane’s ideal Christmas list. She needed to focus on that.

Sloane stirred and Ella looked left. Sloane’s hair stuck up at all angles. But it didn’t dent her appeal. She was still bewitching, glossy. A slow, steady drip of desire pooled in Ella’s stomach. The multiple orgasms she’d had last night at Sloane’s fingers and tongue weren’t enough. Not nearly.

“Morning.” Sloane’s voice scratched the air. “Why are you looking at me like you want to pat me, jump me, or both?”

“Because you look like an adorable puppy. Also, you’re pretty hot.”

Sloane raised both eyebrows with a smile. “Want me to lick your face?”

Ella wrinkled her nose. “I’ll pass.”

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