Page 3 of Madden

Kyla will likely be back in here any second. Where are the rest of the guys?

His loud, throaty moan interrupts my thoughts, and I lean against the wall next to a bookshelf, wrapping my arm around my waist and placing my hand on my chest.

She moans quietly, and the sound of her gagging filters through the air.

My chest heaves, my breaths coming out in pants. I can practically feel my heart beating against my palm. I move up, wrapping my fingers around the base of my neck, and lean against the wall.

“I’m close,” he mutters. “I’m fuckin’ close. Open your throat, baby, and take it all.” He grunts, and the sound nearly has me melting on the floor in a puddle.

I’m embarrassed by how turned on I am listening to this go down. Even more, I’m ashamed I didn’t walk outside with Davis and give them privacy to finish what they’re doing.

I don’t think I would’ve been able to leave if I tried.

I squeeze my eyes closed, imagining he’s standing above me, and his arousing words are from my hands and mouth on his body.

It’s felt like forever since a man has touched me.

Too long.

If I gave in and slipped my hand into my pants, I’d realize just how desperate I am to be touched again.

I swipe the back of my hand over my forehead where the perspiration dots my brow. I attempt to smooth over my hair, trying and failing to collect myself, when a door swings open. I frantically push off the wall and come face-to-face with a shirtless Madden.

“Who the fuck are you?”

My mouth drops open, and I fumble over my words, not sure how to answer.

“Uh, yes, hi. My name is Brielle.”

“What the hell are you doing in my house?”

I steel my spine and narrow my eyes.

What the hell am I doing in his house? What the heck does he think I’m doing?

“I thought we didn’t have any hired staff here today?”

I’m tempted to tell him to fuck off. Is this how he talks to guests or people who work for him?

His eyes trail down my body, and the heat behind them causes my brain to misfire. How is it I just overheard him with someone else, and now I’m picturing I was her?

What the hell has gotten into me?

The faint sound of heels clicking on the tile floor moves closer and closer to us. A petite brunette appears, wearing a tight black tunic and a pair of distressed denim jeans.

I resist curling my lip when I notice her smeared lipstick, knowing exactly why.

She stops when she reaches Madden and glances back and forth between us. She sneers, her eyes giving me a once-over before turning to him.

“I’ll see you soon?” she asks, running her palm over his chest.

I step back to give them space, hoping this is my out to go search for Davis and avoid this humiliating conversation.

Madden turns back to me and holds up his hand. “Wait, please.”

I nod and grit my teeth, glancing away to avoid looking at them. He leans down into her ear and whispers, “Thank you,” then hugs her.

“I’ll text you soon,” he murmurs.

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