“Damon, hey.”
I snap out of my planned trade—or murder—and turn my focus to the man who’s come up to me. “Yeah? Hey, Ted”—he’s one of the members of the team’s player development program—“what can I do for you?”
“The scouting reports you asked for are in your inbox. But I wanted to show you this.” He holds up a tablet. “Personally.”
There’s excitement in his eyes and it takes me approximately two seconds to see why.
The kid he’s showing me—the one he first identified a year ago—has gone from good to…fucking great.
I whistle softly.
“What is it?” Joey asks, coming close again.
But she doesn’t avoid bumping into my body like she usually does. Instead, as she comes close, her tit brushes against my arm as she leans in and taps at the tablet’s screen, replaying the video.
I feel her jerk and my dick likes what it does to her breast against my arm.
But I like her smile even more.
“He’s good,” she says.
“Reallygood,” Ted agrees.
Her eyes flick to mine then turn back to Ted. “Let’s bring him in.”
“On it,” he says and starts to hurry off.
“This is good,” she murmurs.
“Yup.” I lean in, drop my voice. “But it’s not going to be as good as pancakes were.”
Heat in her eyes as her body presses the tiniest bit closer, her breast soft and plump against me, her scent in my nose. “I thought we might havesyrupfirst.”
“Fuck, baby,”I groan as I pump into her. “You feel so fucking good.”
She arches against me, head pressing into the pillows, legs wrapped tightly around me. “No,youfeel good, sweetheart.”
A pulse in my chest.
But I’m getting used to that, used to the feel of her, used to how fucking great this feels between us.
“Oh, God!” she cries. “Right there. Don’t stop. Right—” She shudders around me, pussy clamping down hard on my dick, convulsing as she comes apart.
I’m right behind her, one more stroke, two, and?—
“Fuck!”I growl.
It should be scary how good this is, how intense my orgasm is, how hard I come with her wrapped so tightly around me, but I’m not feeling fear, not right now.
I’m not feeling much of anything except relaxed as fuck…and like I want to fuck her all over again.
“We forgot the syrup,” she says lazily, trailing a foot lightly along my side.
I grin and roll over to face her, drawing her against me.
She wasn’t wrong about the pancakes—they were fucking delicious—but she’s right, I got so distracted that the side of syrup I brought back with us is sitting unused on the nightstand.
“Another time.” It’s still lazy.
