24. No Manhandling
TWENTY-FOUR
NO MANHANDLING
ISABELLA
My alarm blares from somewhere beside the bed. The warm mass behind me groans and drags my body closer to it and further from the alarm.
“Noooo,” Ryan grumbles out into my hair.
I chuckle, stretching my arm as far as I can reach to shut off the alarm before twisting in his hold so I can face him. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”
“But it’s a day off,” he whines as he blinks open his eyes, the blue clouded with the haze of sleep.
I roll my eyes. “For you maybe. But it’s a Monday for the rest of us in corporate America.
I still need to go into the office.” And sadly, the Boseman office is an extra half hour past the stadium.
If I leave Ryan’s place even five minutes late, I’ll get stuck in the worst of the Monday morning rush hour.
He groans again. “But we have six games in a row starting tomorrow. You’re telling me you have to work seven days straight this week?”
I lean in to press a soft kiss on his lips, halting any further arguments.
“Yes, that is what I’m telling you. But I don’t have to be up as early for the evening games.
And you guys are away all next week, so I can take things a bit easier then.
Besides, I’ll probably only need to do a half day in the office. Don’t you have practice anyway?”
He grumbles something unintelligible, which I’m taking as a yes.
After their four-game series in San Diego, the team was back for a quick two games at home before they left again for a week-long away trip, playing a series against Pittsburgh and then Denver.
This week they’re home which I suppose makes up for the fact I’ll be missing Liz’s Fourth of July barbecue at her and Jackson’s place because I’ll be working a game.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. “I did tell you last night I’d have to be up early for work when you begged me to come over even though you got back from Denver at midnight. And what did you say?” I ask, with a brow raised in question.
“I can’t remember,” he mumbles into my neck.
“That’s alright, I remembered for the both of us. You said, ‘that’s fine, I have to be up for practice anyway. I want you in my bed tonight since I haven’t held you in over a week.’ That seem to be ringing a bell?” I pull my head back and flash him with a smirk.
He rolls his eyes, but a smile creeps onto his lips.
“Yeah, yeah smartass. I get it. Fine, let’s get up then,” he says before gripping me tightly in his arms and rolling us both off the side of the bed, with him landing on his feet, tossing me over his shoulder, and carrying me in the direction of the bathroom.
“Ryan!” I shriek. “What are you doing?”
“We need to shower. We’re filthy,” he drawls.
“What did I say about manhandling!” My shout echoes off the tiles of the bathroom walls.
The only response I get is his answering laugh as he turns on the shower.
He spins, dropping me to my feet and caging me against the back wall, away from the spray.
His eyes are molten and hungry, all signs of sleep are gone.
My breath catches in my throat right before he drops his lips over mine.
I let out a soft moan the instant they connect.
It was so late when I came over last night that we didn’t hook up, only quick kisses before curling up in each other and passing out.
So, this right here is scratching that itch I’m sure we’ve both had while he’s been away.
His lips devour mine. I don’t even let his tongue ask for permission, I just open for him, and he immediately takes the opportunity.
He groans as he presses me further into the wall.
His lips leave mine to trail down my neck while his hands work their way to the minimal clothing I’m still wearing—panties and one of his Suns T-shirts.
The shirt is first. He pulls away long enough to whip it over my head and throw it onto the bathroom floor.
My panties are next. He drops to his knees as he drags the waistband down my legs.
His eyes flick up to mine, searching for permission. “Can I?” he asks, licking his lips. He doesn’t add the what to his request, but I’ve pieced it together. I give him a tentative nod and the grin that overtakes his face can only be described as feral and maybe even a little devious.
He drags his fingers through my center, finding me dripping, and his head drops back with a groan. “God, you’re so wet already.”
“Pretty sure I’m always, ah!” I gasp as he works his fingers through the slickness again, brushing against my clit in the process. “Always wet around you,” I finish.
“Mmm, good,” he says, his voice a rumble against my skin as he brushes kisses along my hip bone.
He drags his lips lower, lower, lower until he’s hovering just over where we both want them. After leaving me in anticipation for a moment more, he finally, finally, swipes his tongue over my slit.
“Oh, god,” I gasp out. I’ve never felt pleasure like this before. “Again, please.”
“Have I ever told you how much I love it when you beg for me?” Ryan mumbles against my core, his warm breath making me shiver.
He does as I asked and swipes his tongue through my wetness again, and again, and again.
After the third swipe, he switches to flicking at my clit with the tip of his tongue and?—
“Ohmygod. Why have I… never done this… before?” I force out, my voice turning breathless as I fight back against the rising pleasure.
“Hell if I know, firecracker. But it certainly won’t be the last,” he says quickly before returning to his task.
He swipes, licks, flicks, and even sucks, and all I can do is writhe in pleasure, one hand fisted in his hair, the other grappling for purchase against the slick tile wall to prevent myself from falling.
“Ryan, my legs— I can’t—” I try to get out.
Without me even having formed a full sentence, he seems to know what I’m trying to say, slinging one of my legs over his shoulder to help hold me up, but also getting him even closer to my pussy where he hasn’t stopped his actions.
“Oh god. I’m going to, ah—” I say right before my entire body explodes with sparks as my climax hits.
My entire body shakes, and my other leg gives out, like I expected, but Ryan moves a hand to my hip, gripping tightly to keep me upright as he continues to feast, wringing every ounce of pleasure from my orgasm.
It takes a minute before I fully come down from the high, but once the world has stopped spinning, Ryan gently drops my leg back to the ground and flashes that wicked grin at me from where he’s still on his knees at my feet, hands gripping around the back of my thighs.
“So?”
“Yeah,” I pant out. “You can absolutely do that again. Whenever you want.” He chuckles as he dips his head to place a soft kiss on my clit.
I flinch away at the oversensitivity. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before.
I swear I can’t hear properly. Everything is muffled like someone’s stuffed cotton balls in my ears. ”
Ryan slowly rises from the floor until he’s standing over me, caging me in against the wall again, his lips still glistening from my slickness. “Is that so? Guess I have something to aspire to then.” His face shifts from his wicked smile to a smug one.
“Aspire to what? One up yourself with my best orgasm?”
“Exactly.” And then the motherfucker winks.
My phone pings with an email as I slip my feet into my shoes. I dig my phone from my pocket as Ryan hurries around the kitchen throwing snacks into his bag for practice. Our activities in the shower have us both running later than planned.
From: Peter Boseman
To: Isabella Rossi
Subject: Mid-Season Check In
Ms. Rossi,
I’ve sent a meeting invitation across for the two of us to sit down and review your progress with the Suns and the Sports24 placement as a whole.
Regards,
Peter Boseman
CEO, Boseman Production Security
My heart drops. Plummets and plunges out of my body and through the floor.
“Isa?” Ryan’s voice sounds distant, but he can’t be that far away because he’s standing directly in front of me. He also looks a bit hazy. “Isa, what’s wrong?”
“He knows.”
“Who knows?” he asks. “And what do they know?” His head tilts.
He’s entirely too calm for this right now and I can’t function with him acting this calm.
“My… boss,” I choke out. “He knows. He knows.” I can’t seem to catch my breath.
“Oh my god. What am I going to do? How did this happen? We’ve been so careful.
” At some point in my rant, I started pacing because now I’m halfway into the living room wearing only one shoe.
Ryan is close on my heels, lifting me by my hips and depositing me on the kitchen island.
His hands land on either side of me, caging me in.
“Breathe, Isa.” He demonstrates a long inhale that he holds for a few seconds before he blows it back out.
I mirror his actions until I feel my heart rate begin to slow.
“Good girl.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before he meets my gaze again.
“Now, talk me through it. He told you he knows?”
“Well, no. But he said he put a meeting on my calendar, and that sounds ominous. He has to know.” I stumble over my words, feeling a little stupid as my panic recedes.
Ryan holds out his hand. “Let me see the email.”
“You know that’s actually against company policy—” He raises an eyebrow in challenge, cutting off my excuse. “Fine, here.” I unlock my phone and drop it into his hand.
My eyes bounce around his face as he reads, looking for some sign that I’m not overreacting. That Mr. Boseman knows. When he’s finished and he looks back up at me, I don’t see the panic I expected. Instead, he’s still that same annoying calm he was when I was freaking out a few minutes ago.
“So?” I prod. “He knows, right?”
He looks back down at the phone and shrugs. “I mean, I’ve never worked a corporate job so I can’t be entirely sure on this one, but I’m pretty sure it’s only a check-in, as he said it was.”