Chapter 10 #3
And every time I’d see her in it, I’d pin her against the wall or the cabinet, or the couch, and I’d pull down the front so I could suck on her tits—those fucking gorgeous tits—and I’d play with her nipples and . . .
“Oh . . . fuck,” I groan as I squeeze my cock, my orgasm right on the edge. I hold the base tightly, prolonging the feeling of walking on the edge, waiting to be pushed over.
Hearing her talk about Patty and how she gets turned on, hearing her say she’s wet . . . fuck me .
The way her fingers ran over my chest. Almost to my dick.
The dip in her shirt where I almost caught sight of those hardened nipples.
Fuck, she’s so goddamn hot.
I let go of the base of my cock and then pump hard, up and down, over and over until my cock swells and I come all up the front of my stomach, groaning the entire time.
“Fuck . . . oh fuck.”
Jesus Christ, it’s been too fucking long.
I let go of my cock and stare up at the ceiling, finding my breath. What’s she doing? Is she getting off right now? Did she slip out of her clothes and into her bed naked? Is she fingering herself? Is she using a toy?
And why the hell did she come over here in the middle of the night? Just to fuck with me?
She has to be fucking with me.
There’s no other reason.
The only question is, why?
Why is she trying to entice me? Why is she risking her job when we both said we’d keep things platonic? There has to be an explanation, and I need to know why.
I move into the bathroom and clean myself up.
Then I pull on a pair of gray sweatpants, my dick still half hard as I calm down, and then move through the apartment with one thing on my mind . . . her.
I feel frenzied.
Out of my mind.
Ready to fucking lose my shit with the electricity bouncing through me.
Call it adrenaline left over from the game.
Call it seeing her in that night set.
Whatever it is, it’s propelling me straight to her door where I stand for a second.
I listen closely and hear nothing, so I take a chance and turn the doorknob, pushing the door open.
She didn’t knock.
Why should I?
When I walk into her bedroom and look to the right at her bed, instead of being startled at seeing me, she almost looks like she was expecting me.
She’s under her covers, both hands covered up with the faint sound of a vibrator sounding through the room.
Her teeth pull on her bottom lip as she looks up at me.
And just like that, I get hard all over again.
And because I’m in some sort of weird fucking world where time stands still now, I don’t move. I stare. And she doesn’t move as her eyes connect with mine.
I can see it, right there in her pupils, she wants me here.
She was hoping I’d come.
She wants me to see this, and fuck, do I want to watch.
I know I should leave.
I know I shouldn’t be here.
Coach Wood would freak the fuck out, but I’m torn.
I’m out of control.
My will is slipping, and I can’t seem to stop myself.
And because she’s fucking with me, she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t turn off the vibrator. She shifts on her bed so she’s turned more toward me with one leg propped up under the sheets. The shift causes the blankets to fall dangerously close to revealing her naked breasts.
Fuck.
Me.
“Oh, fuck, Levi. Your body. So fucking hot. You’re...ohhhh . . . fuck,” she moans as she moves her hand. “Oh God . . .”
My mouth goes dry.
My pulse picks up.
And my cock swells all over again as her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth parts open.
“Fuck, oh God. Oh, I’m . . . I’m coming,” she says right before her moan fills the air, and her body convulses under the sheet.
My skin prickles as I watch her come.
Not only did I fuck up by being in here but the sound of her orgasming is never, ever going to leave my brain.
Ever.
After a few seconds of her catching her breath, she switches off the vibrator, tosses it to the side, and gathers the blankets up around her neck as she props her head on her hand. “Can I help you . . . Mr. Posey?”
Fuck . . . yes.
With one flick of those covers, I could be on top of her. I could be burying my face between her legs. I could be showing her just how much I want her.
But I can’t.
I know I can’t.
I realize I can’t.
This is not some game. This is my livelihood.
This is my ass on the line.
I might be a horny motherfucker with the taste for one woman, but that doesn’t mean I can just toss the promises I made. I do not break my promises. Some would say I’m loyal to a T. The Agitators is my job, and I won’t fuck that up.
Can’t fuck that up.
Despite her eyes falling to my crotch, I take a step back, ignoring the droop in her shoulders.
With my eyes set on her, I say, “Tonight, you crossed a line, Wylie. Don’t cross it again.”
And with that, I push through her door, slamming it as I stride toward my room.
Fuck, I hated that.
I hated everything about it.
WYLIE
Okay, so I pushed him a touch too far last night.
I get that.
I own up to it.
But for the record, just to be petty, he liked it.
He liked everything about me walking in on him.
Him walking in on me.
And of course, the finale.
I saw it in his hazy eyes and tented sweatpants.
And sure, did I cross the line? Of course, but to be fair, this was the goal, right? To push him as far as he can go? And, well, I did that last night.
I’m just glad I didn’t drag my sheets down like I wanted to. With him staring at me last night, I was seconds away from inviting him into my bed. And from the way his sweatpants clung to his bulge, I know he would have taken me up on the opportunity.
But once again, maybe it was too far. Talking about Patty Ford’s nipples while his hand was on his cock, yeah, that was crossing the line.
Coming in front of him, very much crossing the line.
The good thing is, the mission is accomplished, right? Teaching him a lesson and all. Now, where the hell do I go from here?
I’m supposed to talk to him this morning about his trip and what I should be doing for him while he’s gone. Do I go in all casual, as if nothing happened last night?
Do I ride in with a handful of apologies?
Do I drop down to my knees and ask for forgiveness . . . and maybe something else?
Or do I bend over and tell him to punish me for my bad behavior?
I smile to myself as I pull my sweater over my head. I can only imagine what he’d do if I bent over in front of him.
Chuckling, I slip on my slippers just as my phone buzzes on my nightstand. Thinking it might be Levi, I reach for it quickly.
I sigh heavily and answer.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Wylie, what was that yesterday?”
“I’m great, Dad. Thanks for asking. How are you?” I ask with a roll of my eyes.
“I don’t have time for pleasantries. I repeat, what was that yesterday?”
“You should always have time for me,” I reply.
I can hear his growl through the phone. “Wylie, I have a busy day of packing and getting ready for tomorrow’s game. I don’t have much time for anything, so answer my question.”
“Well, I don’t understand your question, so how can I answer it?” I say as I sit on my bed.
“Yesterday, with Posey, you seemed . . . intimate. What was that?”
“It was me asking him a question,” I say. “There was nothing intimate about it besides how close he was standing, but that’s because it was loud out on the ice.”
“You were touching him.”
“Because he had something on his jersey. As his assistant, I need to make sure he looks the best that he can look.”
“So nothing is going on between the two of you? Because if there is, I can guarantee you right now, everything that we agreed upon will be revoked. This job will be taken away, you will owe me tuition payments, and you are on your own. I’ll not be fucked with.
My players are off limits. You know that. ”
Grinding my teeth together, I say, “Is that your true opinion about me, Dad? That I would just throw everything away, my chance at proving you wrong about me and my career path, over some guy?”
“I don’t know, Wylie. It seems to me like you’re throwing a lot away recently.”
I twist my lips to the side, trying not to lash out at him— because it won’t do anything . I’ve done it before, where I’ve yelled, trying to get my point across, but that only resulted in an angry father who doesn’t understand me. Someone who tells me that I’m disrespecting him by raising my voice.
So I hold back my temper and calmly say, “Nothing is going on between me and Levi. Absolutely nothing. I’m just doing my job and doing my job well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.” Without saying goodbye, I hang up on him and toss my phone on my bed.
I press my hands into my face and let out a disgruntled growl of frustration. And for the millionth time in my life, I ask the same questions that I’m sure I’ll never get answers to.
Why?
Why did my mom have to leave him?
Why did she have to leave me with him?
It’s not fair.
My entire life I’ve felt like I’ve had to walk on eggshells around him, judge his mood, and try to fall in line to avoid making his mood worse.
He says he loves me, but this isn’t love.
This isn’t how a parent should treat their child.
I’ve watched Sandie with her parents, how they treat her.
Parents are supposed to be loving and supportive.
And sure, yes, I’ve been messing around with Levi because I’m irritated with him for being a part of this master plan my dad constructed, but would I have crossed that line with him . . .
Maybe.
Now, will I?
No.
Fuck, no.
That’s a big fucking no and all because my dad thinks I have no willpower. That he believes instead of doing a job, I’m over here just fucking one of his players.
Well, my dad can fuck right off.
I stand and wipe at my watery eyes.
It’s fine, you’re fine, everything is fine.
I take a few deep breaths, straighten my shoulders, and then head down the hallway toward the kitchen to meet up with Levi.