Gently, Erin pushed her legs apart. Anticipation made Lia’s throat dry as Erin’s body shifted behind her. She gasped when a warm mouth kissed a trail from the back of her knee to the top of her thigh.
“Remember what I said.” Erin gripped her hips, holding Lia in place, and her breath was hot between her thighs, where Lia needed it most.
Trembling, Lia ached to have Erin’s mouth on her. She felt the slick evidence of her own arousal coating her thighs.
“Can you be quiet for me?”
“Yes.” Lia would do anything—anything—to get Erin to touch her.
With a soft hum of approval, Erin tilted Lia’s hips away from the door—and onto her waiting mouth. Lia bit her knuckle so she didn’t cry out as Erin’s tongue slid along the length of her, teasing at her entrance before circling her clit.
Bracing her weight against her forearms, Lia rocked against her, her movements already messy and uncoordinated. She wouldn’t last long—couldn’t—with Erin gently sucking at her clit, not when she was already so tightly wound.
When she did come, she bit so hard on her own hand, she was sure she’d have a bruise tomorrow, but, oh, it was worth it. Erin’s tongue slowed, her hands on Lia’s hips the only thing keeping her upright—her knees trembled, threatening to give out.
Pulling away, Erin kissed along Lia’s spine as she got to her feet. She paused, the length of her body pressed against Lia’s back, her breathing ragged in Lia’s ear. “Okay?”
“I’m okay.” Lia twisted in Erin’s arms, turning to capture her lips in a kiss. “Are you?”
“Yes.” Erin’s kisses were still hungry, the fire in her eyes growing in intensity rather than dimming. “But I can’t kneel on that floor any longer.”
“You were the one so eager you could barely let me through the door.”
“You weren’t complaining.” Erin took Lia’s wrist and dragged her forward, abandoning Lia’s clothes in the entryway.
She couldn’t even see her hoodie—or her underwear. Good thing she had a change of clothes in her bag.
Erin marched her to the bedroom, pushing Lia lightly onto the bed before stripping out of her own clothes.
If this was how every matchday was going to end from now on—with Erin climbing into her lap, thighs bracketing Lia’s hips, and her body responsive to Lia’s touch—it might be her best end to a season yet.
* * *
“What’s Lia’s jacket doing here?”
Alarm bells rang in Erin’s head as she glanced toward Maisie. She stood beside the couch, holding an Albion hoodie aloft. Even from a few feet away, Erin could see the number thirteen on the pocket—a clear indication it wasn’t her own.
“Oh. Um. She came over last night to…watch some videos back from the game yesterday.” There. That was plausible, wasn’t it? Much better than the truth.
Because if Erin thought too much about what had happened when Lia had come over last night—the rush of having Lia pliant beneath her hands, patiently awaiting Erin’s next order—she’d sink into those memories and might never resurface.
Erin scratched at the back of her neck, hoping Maisie wouldn’t notice her hesitation.
“Oh. I thought you might have just taken the wrong one after the game yesterday.”
Well, that would have been a better excuse. Erin smothered a groan. Luckily, Maisie seemed to accept her explanation.
Jessica—standing at Erin’s kitchen counter making sandwiches for their planned picnic in the park—didn’t look so convinced.
“She came over last night, huh?” Jessica had a brow raised so high, it threatened to disappear into her hairline. “After the game? You watched footage here, alone, instead of with the rest of the team?”
Fighting off a blush—she could feel her cheeks growing warm—Erin gritted her teeth. “Yes.”
“With the woman you couldn’t stand a few months ago?”
“She’s growing on me.” Erin forced herself to meet Jessica’s gaze head-on, not daring to show the faintest whiff of weakness. “And we need to learn how to play well together.”
“Oh, I’m not questioning that part.” Enjoying Erin’s discomfort far too much, Jessica’s mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin. “It’s the timing of it. And the location.”
