Page 74 of Dirty Pucking Player

Something about it being wrong and forbidden when I’ve always followed the rules is like gasoline being thrown on an already out-of-control inferno.

He doesn’t even wait for my answer. Probably because he already knows what it will be. He just presses his lips to mine and walks me backward until my ass hits the desk. His thumb swirls around my clit and presses against it hard.

I clench my thighs around his hand and tear my mouth from his. “No, Bash. We can’t. Not here.”

He pulls back and looks around my empty office. “There’s no one here, Coach. Just you and me. And this will be hard and fast.”

Oh, God. I am in so much trouble with this man.

Pushing him away isn’t an option. Maybe it never was. I melt into his kiss and wrap my arms around his neck to drag him closer to me.

If I’m going to go down, I might as well go down in raging conflagration of flames.

19

GREER

Bash shifts his hand from between my legs and lifts me up to sit on the desk. He wastes no time removing my shoes and pulling off my pants and thong, and I drag him back to me, desperate to have his mouth and hands on me again.

It’s only been a few days, but it feels like eons since we were last alone together, since I last felt his touch and felt…complete.

This is so wrong on so many levels, but he read me like an open book. Like a really smutty forbidden romance novel. The fact that anyone could walk in right now—Bob, Lebedev, any one of the staff or players—only makes this hotter. Only makes me want him and this even more.

I’ve thrown my morals out the window completely now. It was one thing to do this at his hotel, when we were traveling, even at my place, but here, in my office, in the place where the Scorpions practice is like throwing it in the face of the organization. It’s the ultimate betrayal.

And I don’t even care.

Not in this moment. I can’t. Not when my gaze follows his hand as he unzips his pants and frees his hard cock. I wet my lips and watch him stroke himself—once, twice—before he moves back between my legs to kiss me again. He drags me to the edge of the desk and positions the head of his dick at my wet core.

Sweet fuck…

A shiver of anticipation moves through me, and I wrap my legs around him and dig my feet into his lower back, urging him to act. He grins at me with wicked intent, but he’s not toying with me today. Not like this. He promised me fast and hard, and that’s what I need. I won’t settle for anything less.

I shift my hips forward, and he lets me take him in just a tiny bit, just enough to pull a groan from him. Such a sexy sound, one I can’t hear enough of. It’s Bash Fury barely on the edge of control. The thing that terrifies me when he’s on the ice is kindling for the fire when we’re together. Because there’s nothing hotter than knowing I’m the cause, that I’m the reason he’s about to unleash himself from the restraint he barely manages to keep a hand on.

It’s a powerful position to be in, and one I crave more than I do air. I’ve achieved so much in my life, but doing this to Bash feels like the ultimate accomplishment. Like I should hang another medal on my wall for “First Place at Fucking Bash Fury and Driving Him Completely Insane.”

His whiskey eyes beg and promise at the same time. I clench around the head of his cock, and he growls against my mouth and drives into me to the hilt.

“Fuck…” My hands curl around the edge of the desk to keep myself from sliding backward.

His fingers dig into my hips painfully, and he nips at my lip as he pulls back and plunges into me again.

“Oh, Christ.” I drop my head back and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Fuck, Coach, you feel so fucking good.”

Warm, wet lips move along the column of my neck and find my ear. He pulls the lobe between his teeth and sucks hard with the same rhythm as his thrusting hips.

This is the definition of a quick, hot fuck.

There’s no romance here.

No long, lingering looks or slow, sensual touches.

This is two people who can’t get enough of each other colliding for mutual satisfaction as quickly as possible.

The scare we just had with Bob only enhances everything about this—the sounds, the smells, the feel of Bash spreading me wide open and filling me completely. It’s reaffirmation that all we’re risking is worth it.

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