Page 52 of Forever Offsides

I kiss her again. A deep plunging of tongues and heedless lips that don’t know how to stop. She makes me fucking burn, and when I tear away from her, I can feel that burn on my lips. I’m making so many mistakes this week, I’ve already lost count.

I close my eyes and point in the general direction of the door. “You need to leave.”

Her nails rake down my neck and capture my shoulder blades. “I can’t when your hand is up my shirt.”

“What?”

I pull back and almost laugh at myself. Because yeah, my hand is up her shirt, pressed against the flat of her stomach just beneath her bra. At the same time I realize that, the knot in my towel finally gives way, and it plummets to the floor at my feet.

I sigh and stare woefully down as my cock slaps my lower abs. “You’re not helping.”

Quinn giggles. “But look how cute and excited it is.”

“Cute?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t call him cute.”

She grips my dick and gives it a hard squeeze before she pets it. “You like it when I call you cute, don’t you?”

I groan, my teeth clenching even when she has me seeing stars from one squeeze. “Quinn. For fuck’s sake. He’s not a puppy.” Though he’s certainly acting like one for her now. Her petting my dick and calling it cute shouldn’t make me harder, but naturally it does.

“Here, Coach. Let me help.” She bends and picks up my towel, but because she’s the world’s sexiest temptress, she licks the underside of my cock on her way up.

“Shit,” I hiss, my eyes rolling back into my head.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“I guess you still have time for that,” I quip, reminding her of our hotel room conversation the morning after I had her. I grab the towel from her and cover myself back up. My clothes are in the bathroom, and I need to get changed. We’re at work. Anyone could walk in though it’s late in the afternoon on a Friday.

“I came in here to yell at you.”

“You did that,” I remind her. “Keep yelling if you want. I’m getting dressed.”

“Bummer.”

“Necessity.”

I go into the bathroom, toss the towel on the floor, and slip on my boxer briefs, T-shirt, and shorts. I run my hands through my hair and exit the bathroom, but I don’t go far. I lean against the wall near the door to keep as much space between us as possible.

“You didn’t keep yelling.”

She plays with her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know what to say at this point.”

I fold my arms and press harder into the wall. “I don’t either. It’s not what I wanted or had planned. Believe me about that.”

“But it can’t happen.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, but I nod all the same, even as my stomach sinks and my chest aches with something like loss. I thought she was the woman something real could happen with. At the very least, I wanted the opportunity to find out.

“See you on Monday, Coach.”

She heads for the door, and I don’t stop her. I don’t call after. I don’t jog the dozen steps, grab her arm, spin her back around, and kiss her.

I let her go.

Reminding myself this is how it has to be. Even if spending ten minutes with her was the best part of my week.

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RHETT