Chapter 1
Jack
“This is a bad idea,” Ava mumbles against my mouth.
“Always.”
We crash against the bathroom door in the dim club hallway, her teeth raking against my neck as my hands grip her hips and drag her closer. The door shuts behind us, and I flip the lock with a loud click.
Her fingers are at my zipper as she drops to her knees on the dark-tile floor, and I’m met with big green eyes and the most perfect view down the front of her black mini dress.
Holy shit.
I grip the gray marble counter when she circles her mouth around my cock, and my head falls back toward the ceiling.
“That’s it. Take it like a good girl.”
With a loud smack, her red lips release me, and a curl of frustration builds at the base of my spine.
“We weren’t going to do this again,” she says, a smug smile on her face.
I say that every time, but I’ve been fucking the coach’s daughter for months now. I’m so worked up after the end of training camp tonight, and Ava is always willing.
There’s a knock at the bathroom door, and Ava startles. “Someone’s in here. One minute!”
I arch a brow. “Is that a challenge?”
The heavy bass of the club is pumped in through the speakers in the ceiling, matching my heartbeat.
Boom, boom. Like the headache throbbing behind my eyes.
“So cocky, Murphy.”
I wrap my hand around my dick and give it one firm pump. “Hands on the counter. Now.”
Ava is an excellent listener and does as I say. She also hates her dad. Do I take advantage of her daddy issues? Yes. Do I care? Not when I get laid. Even if it means a quickie in the bathroom at whatever club we’re at now.
The knocking persists, but so do I. Our gazes connect through the mirror, and I flash a crooked grin, lean in to press a kiss to the side of her throat, then reach around to push up the hem of her black mini dress and swipe my fingers through her wetness.
“Greedy fucking girl,” I groan. “You were just waiting for this, weren’t you? So wet.”
Her head tips back against my shoulder. I reach into my suit jacket, take out a condom tucked into my money clip, and slip it down my length.
“Don’t get senti?—”
I thrust inside, robbing Ava of her words. Makes me a little proud, strokes my ego. I’ll do anything for a good stroke. Pun definitely intended.
“Fuck, Jack, you’re?—”
“Jack? I knew it!” a high-pitched voice screeches from the other side of the door. A voice I’d recognize anywhere. The bane of my existence. “Ava, if Murphy’s fucking you, he’s in deep shit.”
“Not now, Laura,” I growl. “We need a minute.”
“Having a problem, Murphy?”
I can picture the smug smirk likely plastered on the junior agent’s face assigned to follow me. She’s probably pushing up those extra-large gold-rimmed glasses that always slide down her nose too. As if to prove a point. She’s a woman who lives for grammatically correct punctuation. No comma left unturned, no stray em dashes. There’s a reason she’s a killer at contracts, but that doesn’t mean I want her riding my ass all the time.
Ava grinds against me, urging me on. “Don’t listen to her.”
