“Oh, God. Right there.”
He groans and redoubles his efforts. Determination clenches his jaw and sweat beads on his brow. He's a man on a mission. One to ensure both of our pleasures.
And my building orgasm has overtaken my body and reached the boiling point. The pressure and heat low in my belly explode like a thousand fireworks detonating at the same time. My pussy clenches around his cock as he drives into me over and over, harder and deeper, racing to find his own bliss.
“Fuck, Coach.” His hands tighten on my hips. His thrusts become erratic. He groans, stills, and then collapses against me as the little aftershocks of my orgasm twitch my body against his. His heavy breathing tickles the hair at the nape of my neck, sending a shiver through me.
He pushes his hand through his hair as he pulls back from me. His dark, hooded eyes find mine, and a knowing grin twitches his lips. He leans in and drops his forehead against mine and then presses a flutter of a kiss to my lips. “Now, tell me again that what we're doing doesn't turn you on, Coach.”
“Bash…” I shake my head and breathe him in. “What the hell are we doing?”
BASH
It's not the first time she's asked me this. The same question came from her lips the first time we kissed. It's no doubt circled in her head every moment we spent together since I got here.
And I've been asking myself the same thing. Only I don't think she'll be satisfied with my answer. Most women wouldn't be.
Women want commitment. They want to know where things are going before they even take the first step, and Greer and I have never had that. All we’ve had is the hot and heavy need for each other and the tension between us that crackles with more energy than anything I’ve ever felt on the ice.
We’ve had the rush of an illicit affair. The clash of personalities that’s combustible in the bedroom. But we’ve also developed something deeper, something I can’t ignore or deny. The problem is…I still have no idea what that means.
I reluctantly drag my head back from hers and brush my thumb across her cheek. “Are we really going to have this conversation right now?”
It’s kind of a buzzkill when we just had mind-blowing sex. I’d much rather bask in the afterglow of an explosive orgasm and enjoy the feeling of her hot pussy still wrapped around my cock.
She sighs and lets her hands drop from around my neck. I can feel her pulling away emotionally just as well as I can physically. She’s shutting down. She's letting all the reasons this shouldn't have ever happened overpower the reasons it should.
“Don't overthink things, Coach.” I pull my semi-hard cock from inside her and step back so I'm still standing between her spread legs but also keeping her from moving away from me.
If she walks away, I don’t know if I can get her back. Not when my answer to her question is a very big, I don’t fucking know.
She pushes at me, urging me back and slides off the desk to reach down and grab the rest of her clothes. “We need to address it at some point, don't we? Otherwise, what's the point?”
I shove my dick back into my pants and run a shaky hand through my hair. “What's the point? How about the fact that this,” I motion between us, “feels incredible? How about the fact that both of us have been enjoying ourselves far more than I think either of us ever anticipated? How about the fact that this makes you happy?”
And me happy.
Her head jerks up, and she pulls on her pants. “Happy is irrelevant.”
I scoff and shift back another step. “Why would you say that? Shouldn't happiness be the only thing that matters?”
Whether it’s for a few hours, a few weeks, or a few months…
She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Not when it comes at a cost. You remember what I told you when you came to my office that day?”
There’s no need to clarify which day she's talking about. That first major argument…the one that ignited my attraction to her. The one that started everything.
“I told you that winning wasn't worth it if it was at the expense of hurting others.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Yeah…and?”
She sighs and runs her hands through her hair again as she walks around her desk and sits. “So, what's the expense of this?”
I don't get where she's going with this. “Greer…I don't understand why you're so upset right now.”
What am I missing? I thought we were on the same page.
She drops her face into her hands. “Because there's an awful lot of expense here. My expense. If we get caught, I’m the one who's going down. The worst that can happen to you is you get traded and have another notch on your belt.”
I recoil. “Is that really all that you think this is for me?”
A notch on my belt?
Before I came to Vegas, I played hard—on and off the ice—and there’s no denying it. She knows who and what I was, but how could she think that’s all she is to me?
She glances up. “Am I wrong?”
The words “of course” sit at the tip of my tongue, but I can't say them. Something is suddenly lodged in my throat, making it impossible to swallow or speak. It’s the knowledge of what it means to utter those words. It means caring enough for someone that they can hurt you. They can shatter your entire world and flip it inside out.
Opening yourself to that kind of thing only leads to pain.
Greer shakes her head as she brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s what I thought.”
A knock at the door cracks the tension in the room.
She glances away from me to the door. “Come in.”
The door opens, and I swallow thickly and peek down to make sure none of my clothing is still awry.
Steve sticks his head in and glances between us. His dark eyes narrow before he focuses his attention on Greer. “I wasn't sure if you guys were still here. Coach, Marty needs to talk to you before we hit the ice.”
She nods and rises behind her desk. With our equipment manager standing right there, and with her assistant coach waiting for her, Greer has to pretend a bomb wasn’t just dropped in the room.
Every step around it is laced with a heaviness I haven't seen in her before. This really is weighing down on her. It really is a career-ender if it goes badly, but I'm a selfish bastard, and I don't know that I'm ready to give her up just because there's a little at stake here.
Steve disappears back into the hallway, and Greer moves to walk past me, but I grab her arm, keeping her in place. She offers me a tight look and glances down at my hand on her.
I swallow and lean my head down to hers. “Don't walk away like this. We're not done talking.”
One of her light eyebrows rises. “We're not? Seems to me that we are. I've got a lot to take care of before practice and before we leave town tonight.”
Which apparently doesn’t include figuring things out between us.
I release her arm, and she disappears out the door, leaving me alone with my confusion and a strange pain in my chest.
Chapter Twenty
GREER
When I played, I used to love traveling. Getting to see new cities, meet new people, experience new countries and different cultures, it all was so thrilling. I never minded being away from home. I missed Dad, but I knew he could take care of himself. He took care of me alone just fine for a long time after Mom died.