Chapter 16
I like sex.
I’ve had good sex. Great sex, even.
I’ve never let what happened with Javier dim my outlook on sex. Instead, I embraced my sexuality, enjoying every experience because they were all of my choosing. Just like right now.
There aren’t too many people who know what happened with Javier.
I haven’t even fully admitted it to my mom.
And then Max barrels into my life, fully supporting me with barely any information.
Just blind trust. I’d braced for Max and Coach Dunn to argue on Javier’s behalf.
He’s one of their own. For them to immediately condemn Javier and support me was completely surreal.
Then Max held me. The entire night. He was a gentle rock, being what I needed him to be in that moment.
Other men would have been awkward, suggested sex to redirect the energy in the room, or gone back to their own room to stew in private.
But Max did none of that. He was the strength I needed that night.
But tonight, I needed the sex. I don’t think there are words to describe how mind-boggling sex with Max is.
It was like our bodies were made for each other. I’ve never felt such a perfect feeling before, and that’s pretty damn scary. He knew exactly how to play my body. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss. They all seemed too perfect. Too everything. Too much.
But at this moment, I’m too exhausted to even think more about it.
I vaguely remember Max slipping out of me, then going to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
When he returns, he picks me up, gently placing me between the sheets, then turns off all the lights.
Slipping into bed behind me, he tugs me into his arms, cradling me from behind.
It’s the same as last night, but somehow more.
This isn’t about a pull, attraction, or chemistry. Max just staked a claim on me.
And I dream of a future with him, which scares the hell out of me.
The following morning, I wake to an empty bed.
Opening my eyes, I peer through my lashes to see the adjoining door closed, and I let out a breath of relief.
My mind is a whirlwind of emotions, and I don’t know how I’d react to Max at this moment.
Grabbing my phone from the table, I shriek when I see it’s almost ten. I’ve missed the team breakfast.
Jumping from bed, I take the world’s quickest shower, then throw my wet hair up in a bun.
I could have chosen not to shower, but I smelled like sex, and figured wet hair was easier to explain than the sex smell.
When the elevator doesn’t arrive fast enough, I run down the stairs, then sprint through the halls to the conference room where all of my things are set up.
The players can access any breakfast items the hotels provide, but we also offer a catered breakfast that relies heavily on protein, lean meats, lots of fruits and vegetables, and any items that can keep their energy up without filling them with excess sugars.
I also have to push a lot of guys to drink more water, especially the few that are incredibly caffeine dependent.
Coffee by itself isn’t too unhealthy, but adding in the various creamers, sugary additives, and flavors can make it a ridiculously high-calorie drink.
Then there are guys like Max who think a couple of cans of Mountain Dew are a great way to wake up every morning.
So, when I find Max sitting in the conference room drinking a mug of black coffee, I’m speechless.
He chuckles when he sees me, and my mind immediately flashes back to when he laughed against my pussy only hours ago, and the aforementioned organ clenches in wanton need. “It’s sad that I know you’re more surprised about the coffee than you are about the food I’m eating.”
I force my eyes to move from where his large hand is holding the coffee mug, sinewy muscles rippling on his forearm, and look at his plate. “Scrambled eggs? Fresh fruit? Who the hell are you?”
Max grins, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’m perfectly capable of change, Layla.”
“I’ve been trying to get you to change your breakfast options for months.”
He shrugs. “I guess it finally worked.”
“Where is everyone else?” I ask, looking around. “I can’t believe I slept so late. I hope I’m not in trouble.”
“I told Coach you’d be late,” he says.
“What? Why?” I gasp. “Max, you can’t go around telling people anything about me!”
He waves his hand indifferently. “I just said you caught me this morning, telling me you’d slept like crap and had a headache. He was fine with it.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, warily.
Before Max can reply, Coach walks in. “Layla! How’s your head?”
“Oh, it’s okay. The extra sleep helped,” I stammer, reflexively touching my temple. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late, though. Does anyone need anything from me? What time are we going over to the field?”
“No one needs anything. And we’ll be heading over around noon. I’d planned on you staying here again, but since Morales is currently in orchiopexy surgery, you’re safe to be at the field.”
Confused, I stare at him. “What’s an orchiopexy surgery?”
Coach fails to hide his grin. “A surgery to correct a testicular torsion.”
Horrified, my eyes dance from Coach to Max. “But he still played last night!”
“Yeah, because he’s a dumbass,” Max snorts. “He pulled his hamstring, and when he went to the doctor for that, they found the torsion. Serves him right.”
Coach clears his throat. “And we are very sad that Morales has been coincidentally injured in back-to-back games, and we wish him well in his recovery.”
Max rolls his eyes. “We all know the spiel. No, I didn’t aim. No, Dante didn’t trip him. Yes, it’s just a series of bad luck experiences. No, we don’t wish he’d die a miserable death. Blah, blah, blah.”
I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. “I’d avoid that last part if I were you.”
Max gives me a grin and a wink. “Coach decided it’s best if I continue not being interviewed for another week or two. He figures I’m bound to say something that incriminates me.”
“Because I know you’ll say something to incriminate yourself, and probably the whole team,” Coach mutters. Turning to me, he asks, “Do you need any help getting things packed up?”
I look around, noting that most of the things we brought from Denver are already organized well. “I should be fine. I need to pack my personal belongings, though.”
“Me too,” Max announces. “I’ll walk up with you.”
I hear Coach “hmm” under his breath as he watches us leave the room. Once in the elevator, I turn to Max. “Does he know?”
“About what?” Max asks.
“About last night.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You know I’m not going to go around bragging about sleeping with you, right? And if I did, Coach would absolutely be the last person I told.”
Intrigued, I ask, “Who would be the first person you’d tell?”
“No one on this team,” he says with a snort. “But if I had to, probably Holloway. He’s like a little puppy. He’d be way too excited about it.”
I laugh, nodding. “He totally would. But, like a puppy, he wouldn’t be able to keep a secret. So, probably not a good idea to start with him.”
The doors open on our floor, and Max gestures for me to step out of the elevator before him. As I walk down the hallway toward our rooms, I’m acutely aware of Max meandering behind me, and I just know he’s staring at my ass.
In all honesty, if the roles were reversed, I’d be doing the same thing. Baseball players have great asses, much like hockey players. Their workout regimens are remarkable, especially considering a good chunk of every game, they’re standing around.
“Do you need any help?” Max asks when I reach my door, his voice huskier than normal.
“No, I’m fine,” I answer. Turning to him, I give him a professional smile. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks.” We unlock our doors simultaneously, entering our respective rooms. As soon as both doors latch closed, Max strides in through our adjoining door, scooping me up.
His lips cover mine before my back hits the closest wall.
Hands on my ass, he flexes his fingers, encouraging my legs to wrap around his waist. The kiss is passionate, deep, and oh so hot as our tongues tangle together.
Breaking the kiss off, Max peppers kisses down my neck and onto my shoulder. “Come home with me tonight.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I say weakly. “Someone might see.”
“No one on the team will care,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up to my earlobe. “I need to have you in my bed, Peaches. I want to know how you sound when you come while wrapped up in my sheets.”
“Pretty sure I sound the same,” I whisper breathily, my hips beginning to circle against his hard cock. It’s hitting my core perfectly. “But I still can’t. I have two guinea pigs. I need to go home to check on them.”
His head pops up, a look of disbelief covering his handsome face. “What is it with people in this city and guinea pigs? That has to be the most random pet ever.”
“You know others who have piggies?”
“Yeah, like half the Denver Wolves team has them by now. And my buddy Jamie got with a girl who has five of them. They have this massive cage in his office that must have cost a couple thousand.”
“My two share a normal cage. I’d love to give them a nicer one, but I can’t afford it yet.”
Max’s phone chimes, and he lets out a sad sigh. “We have to go. They’re loading the buses.”
Damn. I was enjoying the chat and the kiss. “Oh. Okay. Let me down, please.”
When Max doesn’t budge, I roll my eyes, making him smirk. “Not until you agree to come home with me. Or let me come home with you.”
I should say no. Tell him again how bad an idea this is, and remind him my job may be on the line. But I get lost in his eyes, and I find myself agreeing. “Okay. You can come home with me. I’ll text you my address.”
Max lets go of my legs, allowing me to slide down from his waist. “I know your address, Lay. Don’t you remember me following you home after our hike?”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remembered it.”