Our gazes were locked, so there was no way I couldn’t see every ounce of sincerity and truth in that statement. I was so shocked by his admission, I tripped again, this time stumbling over a rogue corn cob in the path.
Atlas reached out to steady me, shooting me a scowl. “Jesus, trouble. If you don’t quit trying to hurt yourself, I’m going to smack your ass. And then, I’m going to toss you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.”
“Well, just so you know, that would be green.”
His eyes heated as he stared down at me, his tongue slowly tracing along his bottom lip and leaving no doubt he was recalling the same thing I was—our night in the hotel. When I’d given him nothing but green, and he’d delivered.
Fuck me.
Why had I said that? All my words had managed to do was pour gasoline on this already smoldering fire between us. Now, it was nothing short of a raging inferno with no hope of being extinguished.
I hadn’t realized Atlas was stalking toward me and I was retreating with every step until I backed into a wall of corn stalks. He didn’t stop until my nipples brushed his chest with every inhale as he crowded me between the corn and his huge, hulking frame.
Standing so close, he blocked out everything else around me. I couldn’t see anything beyond the wide expanse of his chest in that T-shirt, his shoulders looming above me, so broad and strong. And then there was his mouth and those eyes pinning me in place. Daring me to move an inch away from him.
But I was frozen where I stood, held still by the weight of his palm on my side, tucked beneath his flannel I still wore, those fingers digging into my flesh as if he could rip my clothes away with that pressure alone.
And, god help me, but I wanted him to.
He leaned down, his destination clear by how his gaze was locked on my mouth, and I was helpless to stop him. Didn’twantto.
I knew this was fake between us. Had reminded myself of it on the hayride, but this—his body against mine, the heat of him seeping into me, his scent surrounding me and throwing me straight back to each time he’d been inside me—felt real.
It feltreal.
And I wanted it. Was so tired of fighting it. Ineededhim to?—
Raucous laughter broke through the pounding of my heart in my ears a second before Jackson and Clark, two kids from the team, stumbled into our path, jerking to a stop when they spotted us.
“Coach,” Jackson said, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as his gaze pinged between Atlas and me. “Nurse Sutton. What are you two doing here?”
Atlas pinned them with a glare. “We’re making sure little shitheads don’t screw up the maze.”
“He obviously wasn’t calling either of you a shithead,” I said, slipping under Atlas’s arm and offering the kids a grin, even though my legs felt like jelly and I was pretty sure my panties were a lost cause.
“Yes, I was,” Atlas said.
Clark held up his hands. “No shitheads here, Coach. We were just surprised to see you, is all. Didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Of course we’re here,” Atlas snapped. “It’s a team fundraiser.”
“And he dragged me along with him,” I said
Jackson elbowed his friend in the side, then leaned in to whisper, “Told you they were together, man.”
“If I’m not giving you enough work to do that you have time to gossip in the locker room about Sutton and me, I’ll change that on Monday.”
“N-no,” Jackson said, shaking his head rapidly. “Coach, we’re not— I mean, O’Reilly just mentioned?—”
Before this kid could dig himself any further into the hole, I cut in, “It would probably be a good idea if you two headed out before you make things worse.”
“Are you kidding?” Atlas said. “I’m not letting them run wild through here. We’ll escort the two of you out.”
It was over the top and unnecessary, but I read the intention behind it. Atlas knew as well as I did that if we’d had even thirtymore seconds alone, I wasn’t so sure those players wouldn’t have stumbled on a scene that was much different, far dirtier, and completely inappropriate for their eyes.
All while we’d been tucked away in a maze without anyone around to perform for.
Atlas had lacedhis fingers with mine as he’d led us out of the corn maze and just…hadn’t let go. I hadn’t held hands with a man in longer than I could remember, and I’d forgotten how intimate it could feel. How we could have our attention diverted in different directions, each of us carrying on separate conversations—okay, it was mostly me chatting, while Atlas only scowled at anyone who’d been brave enough to talk to him—yet have this link tying us together. Anchoring us to each other.
