My fists form, and I want to bite my knuckles. I won’t be able to get her out of my head. I mean, she’s already there, but now it’s the extremely X-rated version, complete with her moaning in my ear, that won’t escape my thoughts.
How the fuck am I supposed to teach the little campers now? You probably don’t even know my old jersey number; you’re riling me up.
You’re right, I don’t know. I was too busy touching myself when I watched the games from home and saw you on the screen. Have a good day.
A freaking kissing emoji.
Blowing out a breath, I do my best to bring relief to my body. I’m going to have blue balls all day, and I need to focus on something else.
Violet and I have playful chemistry, that’s for sure, but the excitement that’s inside me, as if I’m counting down the minutes until I see her, isn’t because of attraction. Well, it is and it isn’t. But I know being unable to filter what I say around her is a change from my other encounters with women, and the fact that her laugh is so freaking beautiful to hear is another plus.
Violet is the type of fling that if the circumstances were different, then I wouldn’t be eager to give us a deadline. My stomach sinks from that thought; we’re already halfway through the week.
Scratching my chin, I brush all thoughts aside, as I have a day to conquer.
* * *
Openingthe door of my room, I’m faced with Violet standing in the hall in her rain poncho again. It’s been pouring all day; not that I went outside, it was meeting after meeting.
She holds up the takeout bag. “Turkey sandwiches from the deli at the general store, plus a bag of chips because I felt you earned it.” She attempts to keep a straight face, but her wicked little smile is something she can’t control.
As I grab the bag from her fingers, she steps forward, close to my body, and tips her chin up, with her eyes challenging me.
We’re not going to move.
I reach behind her to grab the do-not-disturb sign and slide it on the outside handle.
“So strategic,” she purrs in approval.
I push the door closed, our eyes never parting, and I carefully drop the bag onto the floor to the side, before I step forward, which causes her to walk back, right into the door.
“I’m not really hungry,” she softly whispers.
“What a coincidence, neither am I.”
I lean down to kiss her mouth and allow my hands to cradle her head to ensure I get the best possible angle, because kissing her is the best part of my day so far. Her lips are warm, yet there is a subtle taste of freaking blueberries.
“You taste like muffins,” I note before kissing her again, because it’s like a drug you could get addicted to, or at least I imagine this is what addiction feels like.
“That’s because it’s blueberry-muffin lip balm.” Violet begins to remove the rain poncho and just throws it to the floor. I’m looking down at her poncho, when she gently clears her throat, and her eyes flash to inform me to take a closer look at her.
The moment I notice what she’s wearing, I step away and rub both of my hands over my face while I groan. “Are you kidding me?”
“It was on the floor of my closet needing a little more respect.” She clucks the inside of her cheek.
A whistle escapes my lips as I take in the fact she is wearing shorts that shouldn’t be legal and an old Spinners t-shirt which looks like it’s been through hell and back, but it just makes it even hotter. It stops right above her belly button and slides off one shoulder, and she isn’t wearing a bra. I know this because her pert little nipples are outlined through the shirt.
I was never into puck bunnies, and this outfit is skirting a few similarities. Many women would wear something similar and throw themselves at me at a bar or party after a game. But Violet? Violet is dressed like this with pure intentions; simply to make me smile and laugh.
So what if the consequences of her attempt will be dirty as fuck, but it’s all aboutwhyshe did this.
And that just makes me want her even more.
Stepping forward, our bodies are flush, and in one swift move, we work together, with my arms hoisting her up as her legs willingly wrap around my waist.
“Screw the bed, I’m taking you right here,” I warn her.
* * *
