Chapter 25 Hollis
Hollis
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I sit in the middle of our daily Honky Tonk Ball team meeting.
Wanting the Honky Tonk Organization to be a collaborative effort, my dad has made it so everyone who wants a say can have one as we go through our daily agendas. Whether it’s a question, concern, or idea, everyone is invited, which means the room is packed with players, coaches, and staff.
For me, this meeting is especially important, as it gives me a chance to figure out what content needs to be worked on and who exactly I should be working with.
It’s also why I should ignore the text and save it for later, but when I see Fletcher from across the table, looking my way as he nods toward my phone I can’t help myself.
I sneak a glance around the room before pulling my phone from my pocket, holding it just out of sight under the table.
Fletcher:
I think I found something of yours
My brows knit together. When I glance up, Fletcher is watching me with a smirk that screams trouble.
This can’t be good. I should ignore him. I should just put my phone away. But, instead, I give in like I usually do whenever he’s around and type a response.
Hollis:
If you’re talking about my dignity, I’m pretty sure I lost that the night I got drunk and let you ‘help’ me with my hangover.
I look up, trying to pretend I’m totally absorbed in whatever my dad is saying, but in my peripheral I catch Fletcher grinning at his phone before mine vibrates again.
Fletcher:
Nope. But thanks for confirming you don’t want it back.
I read the text, before my phone vibrates again and this time, a picture comes through.
It’s of Fletcher in his apartment, but that’s not what has my eyes bulging out of their sockets. It’s the fact he’s proudly holding up my missing pair of red panties from the night before.
I slam my phone screen-side down on my thigh before narrowing my eyes as he attempts to hold back his laughter. Of course he’d find this funny.
As we hurriedly packed up this morning to make sure we made it to work on time, that had been the one item of clothing I’d been unable to locate. Eventually I’d just given up, assuming they’d been sacrificed to the mysterious blanket and pillow gods, especially as my stomach growled for food.
The need for sustenance far outweighed needing a pair of sexy underwear, and I’d just assumed whoever did the laundry at the Wright Way Ranch would deal with it. Never once had I stopped to consider that he’d found them first and stolen them.
With a sneaky glance around, and when I’m certain no one is looking—other than Fletcher of course—I turn my phone over, delete the picture, and type a reply.
Hollis:
So you really are a creep, huh? I think my dad might be interested to know he has a panty thief in his organization.
I fold my arms, refusing to glance in his direction, but that doesn’t stop him as my phone alerts me of yet another new message.
Fletcher:
Oh come on. You really thought they just disappeared? Hell, if anything, I just assumed you wanted me to have them.
Hollis:
Why would I want that? That’s my nicest pair!
Fletcher:
So you wore your nicest pair just for me? Interesting. Now I’m even more convinced that either 1. you wanted me to have them so I’d have to return them, forcing us to spend more time together or 2. you wanted me to have a reminder of just how fucking sexy you looked in them last night.
I fight off a blush as I keep my head down.
Okay, so maaaaaybe he has a point. I did pick those out just for him. If he was going to be seeing me nearly naked, why wouldn’t I wear a pair that I knew made my ass look amazing? As for the missing panties, him having them is probably a better option than some random Joe at Wright Way Ranch.
“Does that work for you Hollis?” My dad asks from his spot at the head of the table.
Every head swivels in my direction, including Fletcher with a smug, shit-eating grin.
“Oh, uh,” I stammer, sliding my phone into my pocket. “I missed what you said. I was replying to a work email,” I lie.
So much for staying professional at work. Pretty sure I just hit an all-time career low, as not only did I get caught not paying attention during my dad’s meeting, it was because I was busy sexting with one of his players.
Fuck. My. Life.
“I just wanted to make sure you were good with capturing all the behind-the-scenes footage at our event tomorrow,” he repeats, doing his best not to sound annoyed, something I’m probably only receiving due to sharing his DNA.
Nothing like all my coworkers having a front-row seat to my special treatment. Love that for me.
I clear my throat and nod. “Oh yeah, of course. I’m all ready for it.”
My dad gives me one final look before turning his attention back to the entire room, as I sink even lower into my chair.
“Perfect. I know it’s not ideal that this event takes place after hours and after a long day of practice, but this event means so much to all the kids.
So thank you all in advance for your generosity and your willingness to volunteer,” he finishes, before clapping his hands and turning the time over to the league choreographer.
My phone vibrates again, but this time I ignore it, especially as I feel my dad’s eyes on me.
I tilt my head just enough to check, and yep.
Direct, full-on eye contact. I send him my best innocent smile and a thumbs-up.
Everything’s perfect over here. No missing panties that definitely weren’t stolen by his star shortstop.
As casually as I can, I turn back toward the choreographer and do my best impression of someone who’s paying attention.
Because what I really need to be doing is actually listening.
My entire job practically depends on knowing when the big dance numbers are happening so I can coordinate with the camera crew to get the footage I need.
Yet Fletcher apparently is dead-set on getting completely under my skin as my phone goes off yet again.
I exhale slowly. Is he serious right now?
Because this is not the way to win me over.
Yes, I agreed to a friends-with-benefits type of thing, but even friends need boundaries, and the sooner he realizes that, the better.
At this rate, the only ‘benefit’ he’s going to be receiving is a well aimed phone to the forehead.
As the meeting adjourns I’m not surprised when my dad comes to check in with me. Luckily, he seems to believe me when I explain that I was replying to an email about a few different sponsorship offers.
Sure, it’s a lie, but it’s not like I don’t actually get those. My inbox is full of them, especially as our numbers continue to skyrocket. I’m also certain he’d much rather hear this than the actual story. Don’t need to go giving the man a heart attack before 10 a.m.
I’d scrolled through the employee handbook, and there weren’t any no-fraternization rules, nor was I ever told I couldn’t date the players.
So as a boss I’m not sure he’d have any leg to stand on, but as a father, I’m less inclined to believe he’d be okay with things.
He may like Fletch, but I’m not sure he still would if he knew what exactly we were doing behind closed doors.
So for now, it’s better for everyone involved if this continues to be mine and Fletch’s little secret for as long as possible—or better yet, forever.
After assuring him one final time that everything is fine, we say our goodbyes before I start down the hall.
I’m not the least bit surprised to feel someone fall into step beside me.
I don’t even have to look to know who it is.
Between that confident swagger and the smell of his mint chewing gum, I know it’s Fletcher.
“Why are you ignoring my texts?”
I grit my teeth and shoot him a look. “Maybe because not all of them were exactly work appropriate.”
Stopping in front of my office, I open the door and step inside.
Not waiting for an invitation, he follows me in.
I’m more than ready to lecture him on boundaries and timing, but before I can get out a single word, the door clicks shut behind us.
Then, in one smooth motion, my back is against it, one of his hands on my waist, while the other rests just inches above my head.
Thank goodness it’s made of solid oak, since I don’t even want to think about what people would be saying if they saw us like this.
“How is this for work appropriate?” He leans in closer, his warm breath brushing against my cheek.
“Equally not appropriate,” I whisper, hating how breathy I sound.
“Then tell me to stop,” he suggests, burying himself in my neck before tracing my jawline with his nose.
“Fletch…” I warn.
“That’s not telling me to stop,” he whispers as he reaches my ear and grazes the sensitive skin with his teeth.
“We shouldn’t…” I say, and even I can tell my argument is flimsy at best.
Heading back down, this time he uses his lips, making a trail along my neck toward my collarbone. With his nose, he nudges aside the fabric of my red tank and lathers my skin with even more kisses.
“Use your words, Hollis. If you want me to stop, you have to say it...” he says, nipping at my skin before soothing it with his tongue.
“No,” I finally manage, and he stops all movement as it becomes obvious he misunderstood. “Wait—no, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“As you wish,” he says, reaching for my hand before pinning it against the door above us. He continues to lather my skin in kisses as his free hand moves under my shirt and up my stomach, and toward my bra-covered chest.
I arch into his touch and I let out a shaky breath, caught between all the different sensations he’s causing. “Kiss me,” I plead. My free hand finds his cheek as I guide his lips to mine.
He kisses me, hard, before his tongue runs across my lips, begging for entrance that I soon grant, happily welcoming him as I bury my hand in the back of his hair.
While still keeping my one hand pinned, his other slides back down my shirt before lowering past the waistband of my black nylon gym shorts.
Our kisses turn frantic, especially as he palms me over my now incredibly wet panties as I gasp into his mouth.
“Already so wet and ready for me,” he coos against my lips.
He pushes aside the fabric before his fingers run along my slick slit.
My lips break contact, as my head falls back against the door and a whimper escapes my lips. He continues with the teasing as he slowly works his fingers toward my clit. He circles the ball of nerves before pinching it between his fingers as my body jerks toward his touch.
“So needy,” he says, his voice deep and throaty as he runs his thumb over the small nub, my body fully igniting and surrendering with each touch.
“You like that, don’t you, Holls?” he asks, and I attempt to nod.
He buries his face in my neck as he continues to give me exactly what I want and need before moving his finger lower toward my dripping center and sliding into me with ease.
I let out a soft moan. In a bedroom that sound would be more than fine, but with us in our place of work and in my office it’s a far cry from being appropriate.
“Shhh.” He leans in close. “You do make the prettiest sounds, but we can’t have the whole team knowing just how good I make you feel, now can we?” he growls, before sliding in a second finger.
I bite my lip, doing everything I can to hold back the cries that want to break free.
“What a good girl you are,” he murmurs, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of me. “And so well behaved.”
I’m not sure that’s true, especially as he uses his thumb to brush my throbbing clit, while continuing to thrust. I lose all control as a loud cry escapes, but luckily he catches the sound as he presses his lips into mine.
My body writhes against him as he pulls each and every whimper out of my throat as an orgasm rips through me. I come completely undone as coils of electricity shoot through my entire body.
He works me through it, making it last as long as possible until I practically collapse into him.
“Mason. Fucking. Fletcher,” I finally manage to breathe as I bury my head in his chest. “You are never allowed to do that at work ever again.”
So maybe he told me I could stop it and gave me quite a few chances to back out. And okay, maybe I’m just as at fault here, but it’s so much easier to blame him.
“Okay.” His hands drop from around me as he takes a step back, and luckily, I have the door to lean against to keep me upright. Especially when I watch as he licks his fingers clean. “Just as long as I’m free to do it outside of work whenever I want.”
I purse my lips. “Well, maybe not whenever you want, but I’d say there’s a pretty good chance you’ll get lucky again soon.”
“I can work with that.” He steps forward, adjusting my shorts and top as he pulls them back into place. “I meant it when I said we can do this your way. You’re the one in charge. I’m just along for the ride.”
“If I am in charge, that probably means you should listen when I say it’s time for you to go. You’re going to be late.”
Thankfully, I’ve started to somehow regain control of my limbs as I step away from the door so he can actually exit.
“Yeah, I’m not too sure Coach is going to be too happy with me, but it was worth it.” He leans in and presses a quick peck to my lips.
It’s hard not to crave more, but I place my hands on his chest and force him back. “Go,” I playfully command, pointing toward the door.
He frowns, but it soon flips into a smile. “As you wish.”
He gives me one final cheeky salute before opening the door and strolling down the hall like a man who didn’t just risk our entire careers over a super sexy and sneaky tryst.
Not wanting anyone to see whose office he just left, I quickly shut the door and lean against it, my heart still pounding against my chest.
God, that boy is trouble, and the worst kind, too. Normally that isn’t my type, but unfortunately, Fletcher just might be the one exception.