Page 54 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

He spots it but makes no move to grab it.

“It looks good on you,” he says.

My mouth dries.

He steps in closer, fisting the front of my shirt and dragging me into him.

“No clothes is a good look, too.”

“That was a one-time thing,” I breathe.

“Oh, so the wad of cash was a one-off?” He sneers. “You got me off once, you get paid once?” He reaches in his pocket and produces more cash. “Or…”

“I don’t want that.” It comes out automatically.

He shrugs and drops it on the bed. It lands on top of the sweatshirt.

“I don’t think you get a say.” He uses the hand in my shirt to direct me backward, until my spine touches the wall. “You’re in my head, and I’d really rather you not be.”

“And fucking me is supposed to make that go away?” I let my head fall back and look at him with half-closed eyes.

There’s a very real possibility that I’m still dreaming.

“Exactly. I don’t fuck anyone twice.”

“And head doesn’t count.”

He nods, totally serious. “Now you’re getting it.”

Well, if it gets me off his radar… I shove my sleep shorts and panties down, kicking them away. My hands go to his jeans, but I only get them far enough down to free his erection. I stroke him, trying to get a better look at the ink. But he doesn’t give me a chance, instead knocking my hand aside and hiking me up into his arms.

I latch on to his shoulders. But it puts us at a perfect height.

“Guide me in,” he says.

I hope I have more bruises on my legs. There are quarter-sized bruises on my hips from Oliver—I can only assume—and I want more.

This is my greedy moment. The one where I say fuck everything else, sex is what I want.

It’s kind of liberating and scary at the same time.

I do what he says, and as soon as he’s lined up, he sinks into me.

We both groan. He keeps eye contact with me, not moving in to kiss me or anything so intimate as that. But staring… it’s like he’s looking right through me. I lock my legs around his hips, trying to get him closer.

More.

Deeper.

But his expression—or lack thereof—is throwing me off.

I let go of his shoulder and grab his chin. “If you’re going to fuck me, look me in the eye while you do it.”

He starts, blinking rapidly.

“Don’t fucking disassociate while you’re inside me,” I hiss.

“Who knew you could be so bossy?”