He smirks and chuckles as he draws up his hands. “Coach, come on…Bob has no idea what's going on between us. No one does. I know that meeting scared you—”
“Scared me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I growl and stomp my foot. “Bash Fury, you make me so fucking angry.”
And hot…which only makes me angrier.
He closes the distance between us so fast I don't have time to react or brace myself until he's pressed up against me and has my face between his hands. He jerks my head up, forcing my eyes to his. “I make you a lot more than angry, Coach. I can feel your heart racing against mine. That turned you on. Knowing what we've been doing and sitting there in front of him denying it. You loved it.”
His thumb brushes across my quivering bottom lip.
Fucking lip. I can't even control that.
“Don't try to deny it, Greer, because I can see right through you, even if you think I can't.”
“Oh, yeah? What is it you think you see?”
He moves a hand and tugs on my hair, forcing my head back even more. “You like it.”
“No.”
“You love it. Sneaking around. The possibility of being caught at any moment. The fact that this is forbidden. All of it turns you on.” His hand drifts across my waist and down between my legs. He cups me there, and I groan despite my best effort not to.
His lips hover over mine. “I bet you’re wet right now. I bet the entire conversation we just had in Bob's office was one giant tease for you.” His thumb centers over my throbbing clit, and he brushes it back and forth, pressing hard against the fabric of my pants. “I’m right. Aren’t I, Coach?”
Christ. He's right, and I so don't want him to be.
He leans forward until his lips barely brush mine. Every fiber of my being is screaming for him. His touch. His kiss.
When did I become the girl who gets off on breaking the rules?
I've always been a rule follower. Even when I played…I played hard, and I played to win but never at the expense of anyone else. It's the reason Bash and everything he stands for has always pissed me off. But now, here in his arms, with his hot breath fluttering against my face and his skilled hand toying with my body, I can't deny the fact that this being against the rules is a fucking turn-on. 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. 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.
Chapter Nineteen
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 my pants and thong off, 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. 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 arena where the Scorpions play 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 move. 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 contains.
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.
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.
How am I ever going to let this go? How will I ever say goodbye to him when this ultimately ends?
It's something I can't think about right now. Not when the tension in my body is coiling tighter and tighter. Not when Bash’s lips move back down to meet mine. Not when the man is absolutely destroying me with the pounding of his cock while filling a void in my life, I didn’t even realize was there.
Not when this is all I want.
It shouldn't be. God knows it shouldn't be, but it is all the same. I really am going down in flames, and Bash is the one dragging me there just as he's dragging me closer and closer to a mind-bending orgasm.
I dig my nails into the flesh of the back of his neck. He tilts my hips to a new angle, allowing the head of his cock to drag in just the right spot.