Her breathing hitches.
I glide my tongue along the outside of her ear. “I bet if I reached inside your panties right now, you’d be wet and ready for me.”
A tiny little whimper slips from her lips. She'll never admit it, but when I talk dirty to her, it really ramps her up. Lila moves from the lap dance up onto the small stage in front of us, and I shift my hand to slide it into the thin fabric of Greer's leggings and down between her thighs.
“Open up for me, Coach.” Instead of following my command, she clenches her legs around my hand, and I chuckle against her ear. “Don't be embarrassed, Greer.”
I nip at her ear, and it has the desired effect. She gasps and opens her legs for me. I slip my hand beneath her thong.
Fuck.
Just as I suspected…wet and ready. My cock twitches in my jeans.
Christ, I wish I were inside her right now.
If we were anywhere but here, I would be.
I slide my middle finger through her arousal. She groans and arches into my hand. Lila peers over at us with a grin. I glide up and around Greer’s clit, applying light pressure, just enough to leave her needing more. She mewls and rocks against my hand as she watches Lila wrap herself around the pole.
The sexy bass-heavy music pumping around us sets my pace, and I work Greer up, slowly and methodically, until she's practically vibrating in my arms. I tighten my hand on her hip to keep her from shifting away from me and slip two fingers inside her. She moans, and her eyes roll back.
She clenches around my fingers, and I shift my hand to roll her clit with my thumb while I thrust into her. Her hips buck and move in time with the music and my hand while Lila gyrates on the stage, her breasts swaying and her ass gleaming in the overhead lighting.
There’s no denying that Lila is a beautiful woman, but she’s nowhere near as beautiful as Greer is right now on the cusp of coming undone in my hands. I press my lips to her neck and kiss my way up to that spot behind her ear. I lick and suck there then pull her earlobe between my teeth.
She whimpers and shakes. “I'm gonna come.”
“Come for me, Coach.”
It only takes a few more seconds before she explodes, squeezing around my fingers and bucking against my hand.
“Oh, God…Bash!”
My name falling from her lips on the wave of her orgasm almost has me blowing my load in my pants.
Who would have thought the woman who hated me so much only a few weeks ago would let me finger her in a strip club?
Or that it would matter to me so damn much that she’s happy?
Because it does. More than I ever thought possible.
Greer Waterson has ruined my ability to remain ambivalent. She’s stripped away the things I thought I had established. The rules I’ve followed about keeping people at arm’s length. Now, I crave having her close. I long for her when she’s away. It precisely the kind of thing I’ve avoided my entire life. The kind of emotions that ultimately lead to all sorts of heartbreak.
There are so many conflicting emotions, so many reasons to question this and push it away, but in this moment…none of it matters.
The only thing that does is her.
Chapter Sixteen
BASH
Greer sighs and presses her temple to the window. “I kind of feel like this is déjà vu.”
I glance over at her then back to the road. Even getting her in the car this morning was difficult.
She's so damn stubborn.
The woman never wants to just trust me. Maybe that's my fault for giving myself this well-deserved reputation. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt a little bit that she can’t see past it, but after last night, I would've thought I earned a little bit more faith from her.
We had a great time at the club. An even greater one when we got back to my hotel. Yet, she’s sitting with her jaw clenched and her shoulders tensed as I drive this morning.
I reach over squeeze her hand. “You gotta trust me, Coach.”
It feels like a fucking broken record playing.
“I do.” She says it, but I don't know that she totally believes it. “I hope you're not taking me to another den of debauchery.”
Den of debauchery?
Spearmint Rhino should use that in their ad campaigns.
I bark out a laugh and shake my head. “I guess you'll have to wait and see.”
But not for too long. Two blocks later, I turn into our destination.
She leans forward and stares up at the building with wide eyes. “An ice rink?” She turns and narrows her gaze on me. “What the hell are we doing here, Bash?”
“You'll see.”
“You know your contract says you can't play anywhere else, even a pick-up game, right? I gave you the day off, so you’d relax.”
I roll my eyes and park the car. “Stop asking so many questions and making so many assumptions, Coach.”
Most women don’t give me so much attitude—except Rach, but she doesn’t count. Maybe that’s why this thing with Greer feels so different. She doesn’t make anything easy. I do love a good challenge, but I generally avoid anything that’s going to make my life more complicated. This certainly isn’t uncomplicating my life, which probably means I should be looking long and hard at it. But I don’t have the balls to do that and risk losing her.
She sighs and steps from the car. “You know we shouldn’t be seen in public together.”
It never ends.
I slam my door shut and rest my arms on the roof. “There you go again, Coach. Stop worrying so much. People won't even think twice about us walking in here together.”
No trust.
I’m not stupid, and the fact that Greer seems to think I am is starting to grate on me the tiniest bit. If I didn’t understand where she’s coming from—the need and desire to protect both our careers—it might be offensive enough to be a reason to end whatever this is between us.
But as it stands now, it’s somewhat entertaining to watch her fret over something she’s going to feel really silly about in a few minutes.
She scowls at me over the top of the car. I push away from it and let her follow me, past the reception desk, and through the doors to the actual rink.
At least twenty kids between the ages of six and ten fill the space, some still pulling on their skates, others already out sloshing around on the ice with their tiny hockey sticks.
Greer's eyes widened. “A kids’ league?”
I grin at her, and she follows me toward where Nancy and Russell wait, examining a clipboard.
Nancy glances up and waves at me. “Bash, you made it.”
I give her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek and shake Russell's hand.
He grips my hand tightly. “Glad you could come, Bash. The kids are really going to love this.”
I offer him a reassuring smile. “Anytime I'm available, I'll try to be here.”
Typically, these types of things are too hard to manage with my schedule, but with practice canceled, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to come help.
Greer's gaze darts around the kids and back to Nancy and Russell. They both smile at her and wait for an introduction.
I usher her forward. “You both know Coach Waterson.”
Nancy claps excitedly and bounces up and down. “I can’t believe you got her to come.”