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My eyes are wide as I watch her chest move up and down. My body is tight, my cock straining against my slacks as I drink her in. I almost can’t take it. I almost throw my phone.
But then her hand travels down her body, running over the exposed flesh along her belly, before sliding into her shorts. And even though I’ve been breathing since birth, I forget how to perform the action in mere seconds.
My jaw goes slack as she moves her fingers against her center. The sounds of her arousal fill my phone, making it really hard for me to stay standing. My legs lock, and I fall back into the chair that is thankfully behind me. Heat gathers at my spine; my stomach clenches, and I can’t believe I’m allowing myself to watch this. I shouldn’t invade her privacy, but I’m unable to look away.
I don’t want to look away.
I’m not even myself as I unzip my slacks before pulling out my heavy cock. I give myself a tug as my body burns with desire. I spit on my hand, taking my length in my palm as I start to stroke myself with a vengeance. I want to be there. I want to be the one touching her sweet cunt. I want to taste her. Lick her from clit to ass and repeat it until she’s screaming my name and creaming all over my face. I wish she were naked, but then, it doesn’t matter. Her moans are so fucking sexy, I’m burning from head to toe. The flesh I can see is beet red.
Then her lips part, and the throatiest, most gorgeous moan I’ve ever heard in my life leaves her sweet lips as she bucksagainst her hand. I move my hand up and down my length faster, squeezing myself, and when a cute little giggle escapes her, I blow my load. I drop my phone, come spurting everywhere and making a mess as my head falls back. My own grunt fills the space as white dots appear in my vision, and I jerk my hips up. I can’t breathe. I’m gasping as I squeeze my eyes shut.
Clara just came in my bed.
My bed.
Yup, I’m never washing those sheets.
But I sure as shit need to change my pants and…fuck, my tie.
Just like I knew from the moment I saw her, this girl has made a mess of me.
Alex is my golden goose.
And if that means I’m Veruca Salt dancing around in a little red dress, singing and chasing Alex’s golden eggs down a chute, then that’s who I am.
Fuck, I love this guy.
He’s zoned in, his eyes on everything as he moves in front of the goal like a goddamn ninja. The defense has been slacking and letting players get to the house, but Alex keeps slamming the door. The dude gets on my nerves, but I could kiss him for keeping us in the game. When he gloves a shot that shouldn’t have gotten through, I glare at the line that skates toward the bench for a change.
“So, is this the Alex Cruz Bears? Or the Knoxville fucking Bears? Get it together, everyone! Fucking protect Cruz so he can protect the house!”
Everyone grunts in agreement, and my glare deepens. I don’t give a fuck that they’re tired. We’re all fucking tired. “I get thatyou’re fucking tired. I get it—I do. But we haven’t worked for over eighty games to get here and lose! I want the W, and you should want it too. Do you?”
Everyone yells in agreement.
“Then protect the fucking house, would ya?”
I know I’m aiming too high. It’s only my second year as a head coach, but I’ve got the team to get me the Cup.
And I want the fucking Cup. I’m tired, too, and strung so damn tightly, I can’t stand it. I almost called in a woman to take the edge off, but it didn’t feel right. Makes no sense, and my cock and I are going to have to discuss this later since I really don’t like what that could mean.
That I only want Clara.
And I can’t want her.
I can’t have her.
She is young, vibrant. I’m a freaking fool, damaged goods, and all I could do is fuck her good. I couldn’t give her a good life. Hell, the only good in my life are my boys and my team. I don’t even know… Fuck, I gotta stop thinking this shit.
But once more, my damn phone vibrates with a notification of movement in my bedroom, and my body twitches with the need to look. I know I can’t look. I’m feeling tons of guilt from seeing Clara in her private moment. I know I should come clean, but I don’t want to embarrass her—or myself, because I’m sure I’d admit that I came at the sight of her giving herself pleasure to smooth over the fact that I watched her get off.
The problem is, I want to watch her come undone again.
But from the pleasure I give her.
Which is bad and is why I’m ready to strangle everyone around me.
The crowd is crazy and loud, cheering on their Griffins. The score is tied at zero, and as we’re in the third, I need us to score. I don’t want to go to overtime, not when my boys need the rest. Ipace along the bench behind the boys, ignoring my phone that’s vibrating, probably with notifications about Clara that I need to turn off. Or I need to leave my phone in the fucking locker room because each vibration torments me.
