As she pretended to type, Sasha walked in, "Hey, I just wanted to let you know I'm back from my trip and ready to start a preseason push. I was wondering if you had any time to brainstorm what direction we wanted to take it this season."
"I'm right in the middle of something," she said as she pretended to type on her computer, which wasn't even turned on.
Murphy’s hands trailed up her legs under her desk, pushing them wide as she talked to Sasha. Then he pushed in a finger as another circle her clit as she gasped.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yep, I’m just trying to finish this,” she said as his insistent fingers continued to work her. She would not come in front of her employee. She would not.
Sasha’s brow furrowed.
"Can I come find you in 15?" Hillary managed to get out.
"Yeah, I'm going to the ice to film some b-roll."
"Okay, I'll meet you there."
Hillary slid back her chair as Sasha shut the door behind her and leaned back in her chair.
Then Murphy’s mouth descended on her clit. Licking and flicking it as his fingers worked her. They’d been doing this all summer, and now he knew just what to do to drive her crazy.
She looked down and had to bite back the smile that wanted to spread across her face at the large hockey player folded into himself under her desk, grinning up at her.
"That was a close one," said Murphy.
"Too close. It's a good thing this is our last time," she said, allowing a small part of the grin to escape.
"Of course it is," he said as she slowly stood up.
Hillary's eyes traveled up from his sneakers, to his athletic shorts, histentedathletic shorts, up the narrow hips to the broad expanse of his muscular chest, and all the way up to his smiling face.
When she'd hooked up with him at the gala, it was only meant to be a one-time thing. Then it was only for the summer. Yet, here he was hiding under her desk at work.
"I mean it this time, Rookie. That was a little too close for comfort. And now, when everyone comes back next week, we can't keep doing this."
He furrowed his brow and shook his head, but that smirk never left his face. "You're right, Boss. We have to stop," he said as he reached into his shorts to adjust his erection.
He bent down and kissed her before turning to leave. "I'll see you tonight," he said.
Hillary crossed her arms over her chest and gave him an evaluating gaze. "And that's it."
He saluted and walked out.
Hillary plopped down in her chair with a sigh. That was a close one. He was coming over tonight to help her build a set of bookshelves she'd just bought for her home office, but that had to be it.
After running into each other at the Farmer’s Market, they had been hooking up. Hilary couldn't help it. He was so good in bed, she just couldn't seem to get enough. But with the season starting back up, it was time to put up some boundaries.
She turned on her computer to check her email before heading down to the ice to meet with Sasha.
After making a few phone calls and answering a few emails, she headed down to the ice. The chill of the rink hit Hillary like a welcome slap. It was sharp, clean, and blessedly free of the heat in her office. The scrape of blades, the thud of pucks against the boards, the shouts of teammates—it was the familiar hum of the season settling in.
Sasha was crouched near the glass, camera up. "Perfect timing," she said, adjusting her lens. "Murphy’s running a few extra drills. The guy is relentless."
Hillary let the corner of her mouth lift. "That’s why we keep him around."
She watched him push off from the far blue line, strides powerful and clean. No wasted motion, no flash, just pure efficiency. He took the pass, redirected it without hesitation, and was already tracking back before the puck hit the net.
He was all focus, until, just for a heartbeat, he wasn’t. Murphy glanced toward the glass, eyes locking with hers. His mouth didn’t move, but one eyelid dipped in the quickest of winks.
