Tyler
Keeping my hands off her all day had been torture. Actual, functioning-human torture.
It was our last day in Washington and she’d already snapped at me that morning for letting my hands wander on the physio table, which was fair, I’d absolutely got carried away.
But god damn it I’d been itching to get to this point for weeks.
It was hard not to when she was kneeling between my legs, pretending she was all business while her warm, dainty fingers worked my thighs like she didn’t know exactly what it did to me.
Looking up at me through those dark doe eyes with that sly little grin, the one that had my dick in a constant state of alert over the past few weeks.
Made all the worse now that I’d been inside her and knew exactly how she felt wrapped around me.
How the hell was I supposed to stay professional after that?
Then came the rule briefing over breakfast:
No grabbing her ass in public. Easier said than done when she wore those leggings.
No bending her over the physio table. A personal attack on my favourite fantasy.
Only she was allowed to touch anything during sessions. Just straight up cruelty.
Absolutely no kissing unless we were behind a locked door.
Talking was allowed, apparently—how fucking kind of her. I secretly used to like her bossing me around and I loved it even more now.
I didn’t get much time to enjoy her between finally getting her into my bed and hopping on to the next city in the tour.
By the time we boarded the flight to Canada, I was strung tighter than my racket strings.
I wanted nothing more than for her to be in the seat beside me so I could plant my hand on her thigh and whisper every filthy thing I planned to do to her the second we landed.
But she was two rows ahead on the other side, pretending we were nothing more than colleagues, and I respected it. I respected all of it: her rules, her boundaries, her need to keep this thing quiet.
Didn’t stop me from feeling like a live wire every time she shifted in her seat and glanced back at me with that knowing little smirk, though.
During the flight, she sat across the aisle laughing with Emma, a younger up and coming player who’d joined the tour, and Cara, casually pretending she could function like a normal human after the way she begged me not to stop last night
Meanwhile, I was wedged between Ted and Ben, shifting every few minutes in my seat like some frustrated teenager.
The Orla effect was real. I was done for, fully, willingly and beautifully fucked.
Despite narrowly losing the Washington final, I was on fire.
Storming through rankings, commentators talking like a top-three finish wasn’t even a question anymore.
I always knew I had it in me; my coaches had screamed it at me for years, but I hadn’t believed them until she came along.
Until she looked at me like I could be better, and suddenly I wanted to be.
At the baggage claim, I didn’t even wait for her to reach for it. I stepped in and hauled her battered, navy suitcase off the belt in one fluid motion. I wanted to do everything for her—the heavy lifting, the door-holding, the constant protection that a boyfriend was supposed to provide.
If that’s what I even was. We hadn’t exactly sat down over the hotel breakfast to have that conversation yet. Between the "No Ass Grabbing" rule and the frantic pace of the tour, we were operating in a high-voltage gray area.
“Way to make it obvious, Reed,” she muttered, trying to sound irritated and not even remotely pulling it off.
“Shit, sorry. Didn’t even think.” I said, shaking my head at myself.
I wanted to claim her right there in the middle of the terminal, but the rules were still ringing in my ears. For now, all I could do was carry her bag and hope she noticed that I wasn't just doing it to be polite, I was doing it because I didn't want anyone else to touch her world but me.
By the time we reached the hotel, I was seconds from combusting. The rest of the team drifted down the hallway toward their rooms. Mine was just ahead. Hers was right next door, of course it was.
She padded up behind me, her medical bag clutched tight against her side.
She’d pulled her hair down since we left the terminal, those dark, silken waves that made my fingers itch to tangle in them again.
She still managed to look breathtaking despite the grueling blur of flights and the shifting time zones.
She kept her eyes fixed on the patterned carpet, a model of ‘nonchalant’ professionalism, clearly hoping to slip past my door and into the safety of her own.
Not a fucking chance.
I slid my keycard into the lock, waited until she drew level.
Before she could take another step, I reached out and snagged the edge of her hoodie.
I didn't ask; I just yanked, pulling her backward and into the room with me in one fluid, precise motion.
The heavy door slammed shut on the empty hallway.
“Tyler!” she gasped, half-scandalized. “You absolute menace…”
But her hands were already firm against my chest, my mouth already muffling whatever attempt she was about to make at scolding me. I’d been forced to keep my mouth off her for twelve straight hours, and now I was claiming back every second.
Hours of pent-up need spilled over at once in a mess of tongues and heat.
“I’ve watched you all goddamn day,” I rasped against her mouth, kissing her again. “Walking around like you don’t remember me giving you the best orgasms of your life. I’ve been a good boy, O, but fuck, even I’ve got limits.”
A wicked, flickering smile tugged at her lips—the look of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. “And what exactly are those, Reed?”
I flicked my gaze to the sliding glass doors. We were on the highest floor. The balcony was an enclosed sanctuary of glass and steel. No eyes. Just the city glowing like a bed of embers below. My mouth curved into something dark. “Balcony. Now.”
I didn't wait for an answer. I grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the glass, the cool night air hitting us like a physical shock as we stepped outside. Her eyes widened, reflecting the neon lights of the skyline. “You can’t be serious.”
I kissed her delicate neck, dragging my teeth along that soft skin until she shivered. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been more serious.”
Her laugh stumbled into a gasp when I tugged off her hoodie, peeled away her T-shirt and unclasped her bra until she was bare to the night. I took a peaked nipple into my mouth, biting gently until she responded with a needy hiss.
“Tyler…fuck…we can’t…”
“We can,” I murmured against her lips. “You’ll just have to be quiet,” I said, undoing the string of my shorts. “Or I’ll make you quiet.”
By the time I freed my cock, it was already throbbing, her breath faltered. Her pupils darkened as she dropped to her knees, lips parting in anticipation, like she’d been holding herself back all day too.
Christ, she was a vision. Hair messy from the flight, cheeks flushed with a feverish blush, looking at me like she wanted to swallow every filthy promise I’d ever made her.
When her hand finally wrapped around me, stroking with a slow, torturous rhythm, a guttural groan tore from my chest. “Jesus, O.”
She looked up through her dark lashes, wicked and triumphant. “You started it.”
Before I could answer, she licked the bead of precum from my tip in one deliberate, slow motion before she took me into her mouth entirely. She went deep, nearly gagging, and the sparks of it sent a jolt of electricity up every nerve I had.
My head thumped back with a guttural sound. “Fuuuck. Yessss. Just like that.”
Her hand twisted at the base, tongue rolling over the underside of the head, sending sparks through every limb. “Look at you,” I rasped, my fingers threading deep into her hair to hold her in place. “Wrecking me with that mouth, looking like a goddess. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
She moaned around me, hollowing out her cheeks with a precision that made my jaw ache from the strain of not coming right then. “Fuck—keep going and I’ll come down your throat before I even get to bend you over that rail.”
Her fingers tightened in a silent, defiant approval.
“Shit,” I hissed, tugging her back up. My cock slipped from her lips with a wet, heavy pop that echoed in the night air. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen and damp, and I was seconds away from losing my goddamn mind. “I need to fuck you. Now.”
Her breathless, frantic nod was my undoing.
I spun her, pressing her against the cool metal rail, shoving down her leggings because they were suddenly the enemy. The city glowed below, but all I saw was her, panties pulled aside, ass bared, thighs trembling.
“Jesus Christ,” I groaned. “This view should be illegal.”
I slid my hand between her thighs. Fucking soaked.
“You like this? Knowing someone could hear? Does that do it for you O?”
She whimpered, nodding into her arm braced on the railing.
I ripped open a condom I’d had in my pocket because, yeah, I’d planned on being prepared the very second I had her to myself, wherever that might be.
I slid inside her slowly—so slowly I could feel the exact moment her body yielded to mine, stretching to take every inch. We both moaned at the sensation.
“God, you feel unreal,” I hissed, my hands gripping her hips to steady us both. I leaned over her, fisting her hair gently to turn her face toward the glass door. Our reflection stared back at us—me buried deep inside her, her face flushed, beautiful and completely undone.
“Look,” I commanded. “Look at how good we look together. That’s me inside you. That’s you taking every bit of it.”
Her moans grew louder, spilling into the warm night air. She tried to muffle herself against her arm, but I wasn't having it. “No,” I snapped, tugging her head back gently so I could see her eyes in the glass. “No hiding. I want to hear all of it.”
I felt her inner walls begin to tighten with every thrust, a frantic, rhythmic pulsing that told me she was right on the edge. She cried out and came hard, her body clenching around mine so tightly it dragged me under with her.
“Fuck… O…”
My cock throbbed as I came, a deep, shuddering release that shook through both of us. I collapsed against her, my forehead pressed to her shoulder, my hands still gripping her as if she might blur into the city lights.
“You’re insane,” she whispered, gasping for breath..
I kissed the sweetness of her skin. “You bring it out of me.”
She turned in my arms, her eyes equal parts exasperated and smug, She gripped my face and kissed me with a hunger that said she wasn't nearly done with me.
And Jesus Christ, I was already hard again.