Page 43 of Offside

I have no control when I’m with this woman.

It’s grown like a wildfire in a dry field. Every time I’m near her, it burns hotter.

With her hand at my crotch, Karis has awoken the beast inside me, and I’m desperate to take this further.

My shorts are in the way of her quest. I undo the tie at the front and slide them down my hips, bending at the waist to kick them off at my ankles. Karis flips around and stares down at my impressive erection and licks her lips.

“That kind of reaction will get you in trouble, princess.” I run my palm over my hard-on.

“You seem to bring out the bad girl in me,” she murmurs in a sexy whisper, tugging at my briefs. The minute my cock springs free, her fingers lace around it in a tight grip, and she strokes me hard.

My cock twitches in her grasp. It’s been far too long since I’ve had any fingers other than my own wrapped around my shaft.

I almost feel lightheaded at the sensation.

My knees go weak and wobbly and my vision does this weird zig-zaggy dance.

Oh fuck.

My vision suddenly becomes blurry around the edges and the room begins to spin—and it’s not from the very welcome hand job she’s giving me.

I draw in a breath, hoping oxygen will do its job and restore my stability.

No such luck.

I slam my palm against the table and wave her hand off my dick.

She stares at me like she’s seen a ghost.

“Oh my God. Sit down, Ballas, quick,” she blurts, yanking out a chair from the table. “Head between your legs.” That is definitely not the head I want between my legs.

She drops her hands to my hips and guides me to the chair, where I plop down with an unceremonious thud.

I lower my head between my knees and groan.

I’m semi-naked with a semi-chub and about to pass out in front of a woman.

“This is a first,” I chuckle dryly. “It’s not usually my own thighs my head is between.”

“Hush. Hold on. I’ll get you a wet washcloth.”

I hear Karis pad into the kitchen and turn on the faucet. A few moments later, I feel a wet washcloth on the back of my neck. The cool interruption against my hot skin, along with the tips of her fingers grazing my neckline, has me breaking out with goosebumps.

“Goddamn it, Ballas,” she curses. “What were we thinking? You’re in no condition to do this. The doctor specifically said no physical assertion. That includes any sexual activities. God, how could I let you do that?”

I tug the washcloth away and slowly straighten, testing my vision by staring straight ahead and blinking a few times. The buzz has dissipated and there’s no more fuzziness in my peripheral vision but the ego-busting embarrassment lingers.

“You know, ten years ago, I could have run a marathon and fucked hard even under these conditions. Now I can’t even get a handy without passing out. Jesus, I really am an old fucking man.”

Karis squats in front of me, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth, her eyebrows softening in understanding. I know I shouldn’t admit any of this to her. It only makes me look vulnerable in her eyes. Beasts are not to be seen as weak.

Gentle hands squeeze my knees. “This does not in any way make you frail or old. You’ve experienced major head trauma, compounded by previous concussions. It has nothing to do with your age, size, or very healthy libido.” She smirks. “Sometimes a little too healthy.”

She winks and lifts her eyebrows appreciatively, her eyes dancing with humor.

“It’s still fucking embarrassing as hell.”

Karis hands me my shorts, which I slip over my feet and up my legs as I stand. She takes a step back and drops her arms, giving me space.

---