Page 81 of Hard to Love

Fuck if I know.

Hell, I don’t even want more.

You’re such a fucking liar, Sanderson. You want more. You want a lot of fucking things when it comes to Stevie Lancaster but none of them are feasible.

Christ.

I welcome the buzzing of my phone. A client to help drown out the constant fucking noise in my head that goes against everything I’ve ever been told. That I’ve ever thought.

“Hey, Rowdy. What’s up?”

Rowdy begins to talk. And talk. And talk. About the things he’s being denied. About how he’s being disrespected by not getting more playing time. About what justifies the huge chip on his shoulder that I know is turning his general manager and coach off.

But I know better than to speak up. I know I’m his sounding board so that he gets it off his chest instead of going off on his bosses.

“Hold on, let me put you on speaker because my phone is dying,” I lie. But I know the way Rowdy talks, and my phone could die by the time he’s done. “Okay. You’re good.”

His voice floods the room as I rise from my chair and move about my office, prepared for the long haul in this conversation. I look to see what’s happening on the beach. I turn to fiddle with a few things on the bookshelf behind my desk. But it’s only when I turn back to take a seat that I’m met with pure fucking perfection.

Stevie wasn’t joking about that fantasy of hers because here she is, naked as can be, with her ass on my desk and her thighs spread. I’m not sure what I want to look at more, the goddamn perfection of her pussy or the smug seduction in her eyes.

“Are you hearing me, Sanderson?” Rowdy asks.

“I am,” I say not having heard a single word he’s said since seeing Stevie.

“Good. I’m not finished. I . . .”

He drones on, but I push mute on the speaker before acting on my one and only thought. Tasting her. I drop to my knees without saying a word and slide my tongue between her perfectly pink lips.

Her gasp, the way her one hand fists immediately in my hair, the way she tastes . . . is the hottest fucking turn-on.

Her thighs tense against my hands spreading them apart as I dart my tongue inside her, feeling the quick pulse of her muscles around me. I then slide my tongue back up her seam and suck on her hub of nerves there.

Stevie pulls my head back by my hair so that I’m forced to look up at her. She leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Are you ready to fuck me, Finn?”

I’ve found myself rolling my eyes in the past when a woman has tried to dirty talk me or be in charge. It often sounds forced or ridiculous, but not when it comes to Stevie. Not when she’s pulling my hair and demanding that I fuck her. Not in the least.

I struggle to remember to unmute the phone. “Yes, I agree,” I murmur to something Rowdy says, but my eyes are one hundred percent consumed with Stevie’s.

I rise from my knees and capture my mouth over hers. I want her to taste how she tastes to me. I want her to see why I’m totally fucking consumed by that pussy of hers.

And by the time I’m done kissing her, I have my dick out of my zipper, am turning her around, and pushing her face down on my desk.

I take a moment to stare at her like that. Her ass, her thighs, her arousal glistening between them, and know I will never look at my desk the same again.

Ever.

I’ll always picture her there with that come-hither look and her thighs spread for me.

I run a hand over the curve of her ass and then down between her slit, her body squirming beneath my touch.

“Finn?”

I turn mute off. “I’m listening, Rowd,” I say as I slide the head of my cock up and down, wetting it with her wetness. She wiggles her ass against me and fucking hell, I do the only thing I can—give her what she wants.

I push my way into her, my eyes rolling back as she closes around me and takes me in as far as I’ll go. I see stars. The pleasure owns every goddamn piece of me.

“Finn,” she murmurs and her voice jolts me back to the here and now and that Rowdy’s on the phone. I cover her mouth with my hand as I lick a line up her spine. The motion only serves to drive me deeper inside of her. At least my hand muffles her moan.