Because even in my head, I’m not rushing her.
I think about the inch I didn’t take.
What would’ve happened if I had.
If I’d leaned down. Closed the space. Let her finish deciding whatever she was deciding.
My cock gets harder at that and I drag slow, feel everything in my legs go tight.
I back off.
Not yet.
Her mouth—fast, sharp, always moving when her guard’s up. And then not. Just that one break in it.
I think about putting her on her knees. About her mouth going soft for me. About those green eyes looking up while I feed her my cock slow and make her take it.
My hips jerk off the bed.
I grit my teeth and breathe through my nose because there are teammates on both sides of these walls and I have approximately one shred of dignity left.
Barely.
I back off the edge twice before I let myself go.
I think about her pulse under my palm.
One beat. Just one.
Jumping against my hand like her body told the truth before she could stop it.
That’s what does it.
Not the hoodie. Not the hall. Not even the inch I didn’t take.
Her pulse.
I come hard, jaw locked tight against the sound that wants out, cock pulsing in my fist. I grab the towel off the nightstand just in time and bury it there, holding on while everything goes white for a few seconds and her name sits under my ribs like a problem I can’t shake.
I lie there for a while.
Ceiling. Towel. The quiet of a Pittsburgh hotel room after midnight.
I fold the towel and leave it by the door with the rest of the linens because I’m not an animal.
I text Josie—my cat sitter, the only person Brick tolerates besides me—to check in tomorrow morning because I won’t be back until Thursday and Brick has opinions about his feeding schedule that I am not prepared to deal with remotely.
She texts back immediately.
Josie:On it. He gave me the look today but ate everything.
That’s Brick. Judges you. Eats the food anyway.
I put the phone down and drop to the floor. Push-ups, one after another until my arms shake and everything burns and there's nothing left but effort and breath and hotel carpet under my palms. It takes longer than it should.
I get maybe three hours of sleep. I was still awake at two. The alarm goes off at five. Shower. Gear. Back to work.
I'm a professional. That has to count for something.