Footsteps neared the door and the handle jiggled.
“Tay—”
He rammed me against the wall, the force jolting the air from my lungs, and let the rack of coats close around us. Lights turned on, and faint voices murmured as they pawed through the rack for the right numbered hanger.
Air breezed against my bare ass. This was not how I wanted to get caught—in a compromising position with a star football player, in the coat closet of a billionaire family’s estate. Something thick, blunt, and hard nudged against my entrance and I realized that Tatum was lining up to—
He pushed inside of me in one hard thrust, clapping his hand over my mouth to muffle my squeak.
“Did Jeremy put the hangers-on the rack out of order again?” A voice said, growing closer. “I swear I’m done with him. You look on that side. I’ll look here.”
Tatum held himself deep inside of me. My pussy clenched around his length, needing motion and movement, craving release. Every shift of his weight between his feet spurred my arousal. I wouldn’t last much longer, and he wasn’t even moving.
Tatum kept one hand over my mouth as footsteps grew close. Coats shifted down the rack as the attendants searched for the right number. I tried to push my dress down, but he caught my hand and slowly, silently raised it to press against the wall. My heart was pounding in my ears. I couldn’t hear the attendants over the roar of my pulse. He reached between my legs and strummed my clit.
“I have another ticket—number thirty-one for Mike Williams,” an attendant called out. The head coach of the Reds was standing right outside, waiting on his coat.
Tatum tensed but didn’t relent. His heart pounded against my spine. Warm breath swirled around my ear.
“Here you go.” A hand reached out, feeling for a coat hanger. Tatum flattened me into the wall—his cock still inside me—as the suit jacket to his left was plucked from the rack.
The sleeve breezed across our bodies. We didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare so much as blink.
The attendant left with the coat in a hurry. Tatum pressed his lips to my temple, holding me tighter than I thought close could be.
Thirty seconds passed, the lights turned off again, and the voices faded. Tatum rocked his hips, dipping in and out of my wetness, before thrusting hard and fast. Fear of being discovered and the allure of getting away with it burned through me like an aphrodisiac with feral claws. Four flicks of his finger on my clit and I exploded, grappling against the wall for support.
Tatum withdrew from my pussy, tucked his still-hard cock into his boxers, and zipped his trousers. Aftershocks from the orgasm kept me frozen against the wall while he righted my panties and lowered my dress. He spun me around and planted a hard kiss against my mouth.
“My place or yours tonight?” I whispered against his lips.
“I can’t wait that long,” he said, grinning against my mouth. “You willing to break your season diet of lean protein, complex carbs, and a full night of sleep for a drive-through cheeseburger and car sex at the rest stop off I-95?”
I giggled. “Hell yeah.”
* * *
“Well, well, well.”Maddox arched an eyebrow as I neared Colette’s office door. His cobalt suit was tailored a little too well. The seams strained with each subtle movement. He paired the bold suit choice with a pale blue paisley dress shirt and a silk tie in living coral. His bottle cap glasses barely disguised his glare of disdain. “Look what the cat dragged in. Or should I say the cock?”
I rolled my eyes and dropped a slice of pie in front of him. A fed Maddox was a happy Maddox. Or at least a less cranky Maddox. It was like throwing a steak at a guard dog. “You know that football season is insane.”
“I wouldn’t know. Football is for brutes. Polo is the sport of kings.”
“Oh?” I feigned surprise. “Is that where you’ve been sneaking off to? Portsmouth with the lawyer for Saturday matches.”
Maddox paled.
I leaned over his desktop monitor and planted my hands on his planner. “I might be out of the office more until February—” I dropped my voice to a sinister whisper “—but I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“You’re a witch.”
“That was my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.” I booped his nose and peeled away from his desk before he retaliated. “But if you’re looking for a stake to burn me at, I think we were close to the same size. I’m okay with hand-me-downs. Just drive to Salem and get hers. I’m pretty sure her name’s still on it.”
He dismissed me with a flourish of his hand. “Be gone, sorceress.”
I wiggled my fingers at him as I let myself into Colette’s office and slipped off my shoes.
“Is Maddox still pretending he’s crotchety?” Colette asked, raising a teacup to her lips.