Page 53 of The Sweet Spot

I open my eyes and meet his gaze—dark and intense. The raw hunger is still there, but it feels a little different now.

He pushes in slowly, one careful inch at a time, stretching me open with a delicious burn. We both moan softly as he sinks deeper until he’s finally buried to the hilt inside me. For a long moment, he just stays there.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans against my mouth. “I could stay buried in you forever, Whit.”

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I slide my hands up his back and start to roll my hips. His powerful muscles shift under my palms as he moves inside me.

We never stop kissing. Soft and slow at first, then deeper, more desperate as the pleasure builds. His hips roll in a steady rhythm, grinding against me with every thrust so my clit gets constant friction. Every time he bottoms out, a soft, needy sound escapes me.

“JB...” I whimper, clinging to him.

“Fuck, Whit…” he groans into my neck, his teeth biting down gently. “You feel amazing.”

He keeps going at a slow, devastating pace, whispering against my skin between kisses—how perfect I feel around him, how beautiful I look beneath him, how he never wants this to end. The intensity keeps rising, but it never feels frantic. It feels like we’re melting into each other.

My orgasm builds gradually, and when it finally crashes over me, I cry out, clenching hard around his cock, my whole body trembling as waves of pleasure roll through me.

JB groans my name, his rhythm faltering as he follows me over the edge. He buries himself as deep as he can and comes hard, pulsing inside me with a low, guttural moan, filling me.

He collapses on top of me, and we stay like that for a long time, breathing together with his forehead pressed to mine as the aftershocks work their way through both of us.

The high doesn’t last long because my brain starts to overthink with questions I don’t want to ask out loud.

What are we? Can this go on longer than tonight? Do you want it to? Do you want me like I want you?

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

“What time is your bus tomorrow?” It’s the only thing I feel like I can say without coming across as desperate.

“Midday,” he answers, as he pulls himself up so he can look at me below.

“Okay.”

I still don’t feel better. He’s softening inside me, and I can’t help but think that I’ve completely screwed myself over by letting myself get screwed by him.

JB presses a kiss to my forehead, and the noise in my brain starts to quiet. The second his mouth drops to my nipple, and he lavishes it with attention, it goes completely.

“Stop overthinking, Coach,” he says between kisses, his cock hardening inside me. “Let’s enjoy tonight and figure things out tomorrow.”

I close my eyes and relax against the pillow.

He’s right. Tomorrow can wait.

Chapter 10

My phone flashes on the nightstand, but I ignore it. If I answer it now, I'm going to be even later.

I missed the bus to the airport...

By an hour.

And yeah, at the time, I didn't give a fuck because I was tongue deep inside Whit.

Now, I'm starting to freak out a little. If I don’t head out in the next ten minutes, there's a very real possibility that I'll also miss my flight to Cincinnati and ergo, miss our first game. I’ve never missed a game in my life. Not even the ones where I was sitting in the dugout listening to Max talk endlessly about the new grip for his slider.

I pull on, zip up my slacks and reach for my belt slung over the headboard, where I'd had Whit, ahem, tied up for a little while last night.

It clinks against the headboard, making me wince, and I fully expect it to wake Whit, who's currently buried under all the hotel bedding. She shifts a little but doesn't sit up.