SPIKED (A Sports Romance) (27 page)

“So you got a little lucky,” I said, as we stopped beside a gleaming mahogany door with frosted glass.

He stopped beside me, a hand on the doorknob. His eyes narrowed. “Luck is when you win on a slot machine or a scratch ticket. Nothing I’ve built is based on luck.”

He pushed the door open, and I stepped inside, instantly recognizing it as his office. The vaulted ceilings showcased big steel beams, and the tall windows—colored with leaded glass—let in bright light.

A giant oak desk sat in the middle, anchored by a thick wool rug. One wall was taken up by leather-bound books, while the other had matted, frame sports photos. Seahawks players, Sounders players, and beyond.

“That would be the Heisman winner,” he said gesturing to one portrait. “He’s one of my partners now.”

I rounded his desk, pulling myself up on top of it as I study the portraits.

“That’s an impressive group,” I said.

He stepped closer, turning in front of me. “
They
impress you?”

The words he didn’t say were clear: he wanted me to be impressed by
him.
By the things he’d accomplished, not on the playing field, but here. In an office, behind his enormous desk.

I stared into his eyes, matching the intensity. Matching his
want.
But I didn’t answer his question. We simply faced one another, staring. Waiting for one of us to make the move, to cross the line.

He stepped a few inches closer, then leaned toward me, tangling his hands in my hair and tipping my face up so he could kiss me.

There was nothing slow or tender about it, it was only raw hunger and need. One hand slipped down my back, pulling me up against him. I slid forward, letting my knees spread, allowing him to step between my legs.

It was as if he needed to me to feel how hard he was, already. As if he wanted to prove he’d been thinking of this in every moment we’d been together.

He teased my tongue with his own, deepening the kiss. He stepped up against the desk, forcing me to lay backward. He pulled my knees upward, closer to his waist, so that he could press into me, so I could feel the hard length of him.

He yanked my shirt up over my head and I fell back, his desk hard and cold against my back. My hair spread out around me, like a fan, and he reached over, shoving a wire basket, filled with paperwork, off the desk. It crashed to the floor, jarring me.

I started to sit up—worried that someone may have heard it, and he pushed me roughly back down. “I locked it,” he said, leaning down, devouring my mouth with his. And then I forget what it was I’d been thinking, consumed by his kiss.

One of his hands slid down my side, and up around my back, unclasping my bra with one smooth movement. The air was cold across my skin, contrasting with the heat where our bodies touched. I arched into him as his lips encircled my now-bare nipple.

His tongue swirled around it, and I rolled my hips against him, causing him to suck in a breath between his teeth.

I thought of this constantly since we were last together, and now I wanted it, wanted him to quit the teasing and take me, right here on his desk, in the middle of his massive office.

Instead he was slow and methodical, his breathing growing heavy as he kissed one breast, and then the other, his breath hot against my skin.

“Landon,” I murmured, burying my fingers in his hair, twisting the strands in my fingers as I pushed against him. My skirt rode up until it was scrunched up around my waist and my panties grew damp against his pants. “That feels so good,” I said, my free hand running down his back, finding the hem of his shirt so I could yank it over his head.

And then our upper bodies were bare, pressed into one another as he leaned over me, while I lay on his desk, my legs spread apart.

My fingers raked up his back, scratching him hard enough I was sure I’d leave marks. I arched closer, my hips rolling in an almost frantic rhythm, craving more friction.

Landon’s tongue circled my nipple one more time, before he stood again. His eyes were dark and stormy, as his gaze raked over me, as if he wanted to remember how I looked draped across his desk, my skirt up around my waist, my breasts bare and bouncing as I swiveled my hips.

“Jesus you’re beautiful,” he said.

Without sitting up, I reached down for the button on his pants. He watched as I unzipped them, as I shoved them down his legs, allowing his hard cock to spring free. His eyes turned dark with lust. He pushed up on my knees, sliding me back so that my ass was perched at the edge of his desk.

Then he was teasing me, allowing the long length of his cock to slide up and down along my slit. Preparing me, making me wet all over.

He paused, his hips swinging back as he took himself in his hand, positioning himself at my core.

With his other arm, he wrapped it around my knees, so that the back of my thighs pressed against his abs. And then he plunged into me, with one hard, swift thrust.

I bit back a moan, my hands gripping each side of his desk. My breasts bounced as he fucked me, harder and harder, so quickly I was surprised his desk didn’t screech across the floor.

My head tipped back, heat building in my lower belly, pulsing through my body. I turned to the side, his desk cold against my cheek, his body hot against mine where it slammed into me.

My tits bounced harder with his rhythm, and he reached down, twisting one in his palm. “You feel so good,” he murmured, between what sounded like gritted teeth. Like for him, the pleasure was hard to control. Like he wanted to spiral into oblivion.

His rhythm was swift and relentless, faster and faster with each breath, until I was sure I could take no more. And then his fingers splayed out along my ribs, pulling me up into a sitting position, forcing me to hook my ankles behind his bare ass as he kissed me again, hot and hungry, his tongue sliding between my lips, across my tongue, his cock still hard and filling me to bursting as he ground his hips in a circle.

He growled under his breath, and then he pushed me back down. But instead of fucking me harder, he pulled out, and the sudden loss made me short of breath.

But he wasn’t done. He gripped my hips, rolling me over, face down on his desk. I was bent at the waist, my feet on the floor, my ass up to greet him. My tits pressed into his desk, the cold making my nipples turn even harder.

Our sweat mingled, the heat of our skin setting me on fire.

He leaned down, nipping at my shoulder. “God you look good like this,” he said, setting me aflame.

“I want you,” I murmured, pushing my ass up against him. Encouraging him.

“You want me to fuck you while you lean over my desk?” he asked, his tongue up my neck, onto my earlobe.

“Yes,” I panted, pushing harder up against him. Desperate for him to just take the cock in his hands and shove it inside me, to fuck me even harder than he’d done before, to bring me to climax. I was drenched, dripping down my inner thighs.

He teased his cock back and forth along my opening, as if to prove he had more restraint than I did. I groaned, no longer caring if his office was sound proof. I was too desperate, too hot for him.

He didn’t waste time, he simply thrust back inside, hard and savagely, just the way I wanted it.

I groaned, curling my fingers around the edge of his desk and gripping, trying to anchor myself in some way.

He thrust hard, his skin slapping against mine. He bucked harder and harder against me, his cock hitting something deep inside, something that sent vibrations of pleasure and heat through my core.

I was clinging to the edge, desperate for climax. His breathing grew louder along with my cries. My knees banged against his desk as he fucked me harder.

His groans grew guttural, raspy and desperate, just as a wave of pleasure pulsed through me.

“Oh god,” he groaned, plunging hard, deeper than before, just as I moaned, loud and long, my climax hitting.

I collapsed onto the desk and he fucked me a few more times, his moans heavy with pleasure, with satisfaction, until at last, he stilled. His cock still inside me, he pulled me up against him, so that my backside pressed up against his front.

He wrapped his arms around me, one solid against my ribs, like a strong cage, and the other resting on my breasts. He leaned down, tenderly kissing my shoulder. “That felt so good,” he murmured, his breath still coming hot and heavy against my skin.

It was several morel moments before he stepped back, his cock slipping out of me. He reached over for the sports coat hanging over the back of his chair, slipping it over my shoulders. Then he kissed me again, slow and tender, all of the urgency gone. “There’s a private bathroom through there,” he said, pointing to a red oak door.

“Thanks,” I murmured, quickly grabbing my clothing and crossing the room.

Though there was no shower, the bathroom was nicer than anything I’d ever seen, with gleaming white marble and sparkling silver fixtures. I cleaned up quickly, slipping back into clothes and straightening my hair.

I tried not to blush at what we’d just done, but I couldn’t help it. Landon brought out something different in me—something I wasn’t used to seeing. It was raw and hungry and primal and… completely irresistible.

Jesus, I’d just let him fuck me on his desk in the middle of the day.

I finger-combed my hair and then, deciding it was the best that I could do, headed out of his bathroom.

He was fully dressed, standing beside his desk as if he hadn’t just had me bent over it, fucking me from behind. He looked cool, calm, collected.

As if bending a girl over his desk was just another part of his day. I tried to pretend the same, as if I wasn’t the least bit affected by what we’d just done.

“Ready?” he asked, as if we’d just paid a dinner bill and were ready to go home.

“Mhmmm,” I said, as casually as I could muster.

I wasn’t sure what I expected from him. What I
wanted
from him.

He led me out of his office, the door clicking firmly shut behind us, and then back down the expansive halls of his center. I was relieved to realize there wasn’t a nearby-secretary’s desk, or water cooler. What Landon and I had just shared… it was between us.

He led me across the entrance, and I ignored the watchful eyes of the receptionists, hoping they couldn’t’ see the difference in my mussed-up hair, in my rumpled clothing. Hoping they couldn’t’ see at a glance that their boss had just fucked me on his desk.

Maybe the blond would pick up that Inbox of his later, scooping it off the floor and smelling the sex in the room.

Landon walked around his car, opening the door, and waiting for me to slide into the seat before closing it gently with a click.

Seconds later he was next to me again, turning the key in the ignition and then we were pulling out, leaving his center behind and gliding down the valley highway. We hadn’t spoken since he’d come inside me, and I felt awkward, desperate to fill the silence. But with what, I wasn’t sure.

“Let me take you out tonight,” he said, after a few miles of quiet.

My heart galloped to life in my chest. I’d wanted him to say something.
Anything
. But this had been too much to want. “On a date?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Where are we going?”

His lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile. I’d already agreed, without even realizing it.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Okay,” I said. Wishing I could resist him, knowing I couldn’t. My heart seemed to swell, warm my whole body at once. I wanted to be so much more than a fling to him. Maybe this date… maybe that meant I truly
was
more.

He slid a hand across the console, trailing it down my arm and interlacing his fingers with mine.

It was an oddly intimate thing to do. This man, who I’d been close to, who I’d just been fucked, bent over his desk, was now holding my hand. It felt too familiar, too romantic. Holding hands was
affectionate,
and what we had was raw and sexual, hungry and insatiable.

We rounded a corner and turned onto my road, and then all too quickly, he was letting go of my fingers, putting the car in park.

“See you at seven,” he said, and I climbed out of his car. He idled in the driveway, watching as I ascended front porch steps and walked into the house. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that I heard the engine rev and he backed out, then left us in his rearview mirror.

Today had been… insane. I wasn’t even sure what I was more elated by—that he asked me out on a date, that he offered me an insane internship, that he’d wanted me so badly he’d fucked me in his office.

“What’s with that shit-eating grin?” Matt asked from his place in my dad’s old, fraying recliner.

My eyes snapped to his, the smile melting from my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He sat up, snapping the footrest down with a screech. “I’m talking about my sister taking off with Landon Hill and then coming back three hours later, smiling like a lovesick puppy.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” I said, tossing my purse down on the battered coffee table and flopping down on the couch. “It was about business.”

He leaned forward in the chair, the springs creaking with age. “What kind of business could you possibly have with Landon?”

I leaned back on the armrest, crossing my legs at the ankle. “He offered me an internship.”

“You already
have
an internship. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be on a plane by now?”

I tried to ignore the guilt that threatened to damper my mood. “I turned it down.”

“What the hell, Taryn,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows propped up on his knees. I’d forgotten how intense he could be sometimes, how much he tried to parent me whenever our mom and dad weren’t around. “Why would you do that? This is your second chance.”

“It just… It didn’t feel right, okay?” I said, trying not to look at him, trying to pretend it didn’t have anything to do with Matt’s cancer. I stared up at the swirls in the popcorn ceiling. If he’d told me even a week sooner, maybe I would’ve come to terms with it and been ready to fly off and leave him behind.