I nodded, backing out of the room, sending a glare towards Nicky Pryce-Jones on the way, because he was always worth glaring at.
Nate was there in ten minutes, freshly showered and smelling of shower gel that he’d definitely taken with him from home rather than using the one provided. I knew that, for however long I lived, the scent would remind me of him, sending my mind into overdrive with all the ways he could use his body to please mine.
“My shoulder feels fine.” He sat down on the table, the door securely closed behind him. “But I thought you’d want to check.”
“And tell you off for elbowing Levi.” He was already mainly naked, just low hanging sweatpants on his hips, his happy trail and abs on full display.
I didn’t try to avoid staring, there was no point. He knew I liked what I saw because I’d told him, I just hoped he wasn’t going to throw it back in my face.
Nate shrugged. “The opportunity was there to show him up for the drama queen he is.”
“You could’ve cost us two points.”
He shook his head. “I knew Levi would take it, because he thought he’d been wronged–”
“He had been.”
“He’d have claimed a penalty even if I hadn’t jabbed my elbow in, and I had to go in for that block because he would’ve scored, Amber. But he’s a shit penalty taker. He always goes to the right, he never puts enough power behind it, and he keeps it low.” Nate’s eyes were taking me in, all of me. He made no attempt to not stare at my breasts, which were doing their best dressed in a tight vest. I had an athletic body which had come naturally because of the volume of sports I’d done at school and university, along with genetics. But I also had my mum’s big boobs. They sprouted almost overnight when I was fifteen, and I spent the first two years being mortified of them and wearing baggy sweaters, dreading overhearing comments from boys about them. Then my older sister had words with me, and I’d decided that buying pretty bras and making the most out of them was going to be more productive than hiding them and cheaper than a breast reduction.
Levi hadn’t been overly impressed with them. He’d actually suggested I should have them reduced, so I could wear clothes that were like his ex had worn, something he’d dropped into conversation when we’d gone on a date to a restaurant and he’d requested a table that was private, where we wouldn’t be seen by the media. It hadn’t been because he’d wanted intimacy, which was what I’d hoped, but because he was keeping me hidden.
Nate’s eyes trailing up and down my body, and the fact that his sweats weren’t hiding anything, made that old feeling evaporate.
“You shouldn’t have done it.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I absolutely should. And we won, so no harm done, except to Levi’s ego.”
“Your shoulder’s okay?” I braved taking the couple of steps towards him. “No twinges?”
“Feel it for yourself.”
I angled myself so I could, my hands on his back, getting him to move the joint so I could check for any tightness. There was none. The room felt too quiet, the walls closing in on us. I could hear Nate’s breath, steady and deep, and when I moved to stand between his legs as he stayed sitting on the table, checking on his shoulder from a different angle.
His hands were clasping the edge of the table, his face at the same height as my breasts. I was overly aware of where he was, that I wouldn’t usually stand like this because of the closeness, but after ten days of exchanging flirty texts and casting looks at each other that were anything but professional, I wanted a little more.
Nate’s hands left the edge of the table. He placed them on my hips, his grip firm, his hands big enough to meet across the top of my ass.
“Is this okay?” He looked up at me. “You’ve had your hands all over my body, but I’ve never touched you.”
“I’ve had my hands on you as a professional, but it’s okay. I like where your hands are right now.” His shoulder was definitely fine. I rested my hands on both of his shoulders, the heel of them pressing against the top of his body.
I watched him lower his gaze back to my tits, my nipples hardening under it. His hands slid higher, up onto my waist and then to just below the curve of my breasts.
“If I told you I’d jacked off thinking about you more times this week than I’d ever done as a teenager, what would you think of me?” When his eyes met mine again they were filled with lust.
My mouth was dry, my heart rate as high as when I was doing HIIT training. This was different than writing down words on my phone. More real. Less places to hide.
“I’d wonder who had the most orgasms: me or you.” I slid my hands down onto his chest, feeling the heat from his body, the smoothness of his skin broken by the few hairs he had scattered across his pecs.
“Good response.” He licked his lips. “Did you think of me when you had those orgasms?”
“Maybe.” My hands carried on lower. His sweats were tented now, his hands sliding up my sides, his thumbs brushing over the sides of my breasts. “Maybe I thought of someone else.”
“I don’t believe you. I think it was just me.”
“You’re very sure of yourself.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been here two seasons and I’ve never seen you pay any attention to any of the players.”
