Playing it Cool (Sydney Smoke Rugby) (5 page)

Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as he yanked her bra cups aside, his greedy hands each claiming a breast. They ground on each other like horny teenagers, and Harper moaned as he dropped soft kisses down her neck, into the hollow of her throat. She whimpered as he traced a wet path lower. When his mouth found a nipple, she cried out, a violent clenching between her legs bringing her out of her sexual stupor.

If they didn’t stop this now, she was going to come embarrassingly quickly. Possibly even right now. Not to mention the fact she never let men she barely knew unzip her and suck on her nipples.

Hell, they weren’t supposed to even be
doing
this.

“This isn’t starting very well at all,” she panted, concentrating hard on sounding reasonable as he sucked, so damn good, on her nipple. “We seem to be well and truly breaking the ground rules.”

Which was putting it mildly. The ground rules were lying in smoking rubble at their feet.

He released his mouthful, panting as he straightened to look her in the eye for long moments, potent male frustration brimming in his gaze. “Maybe we can bend them a little?”

Harper struggled to sound normal instead of someone who’d just had her nipple sucked by a goddamn
Jedi
. “
Bend
them?”

He nodded. “I know you’re not averse to a spot of masturbation. Why not let me help you with that?”

The hands on her breasts moved south, the fingers trekking over her belly to dip just under the lacy edge of underwear.

So much for not letting him near her lady parts. If they could talk, they’d be begging him to come closer.

Her usual awkwardness over the softness of her belly and the roundness of her hips was nowhere to be seen. All that existed was sensation. It felt so damn good, Harper had to squeeze her legs together to stop from coming there and then.

He wanted to get her off?
Hell-fucking-yeah
. She was too far-gone to deny him
or
herself
.
She’d think about the reasons and the implications later.

After.

“As long as it’s mutual,” she said, grabbing for the hard length of his cock, jammed between them and still taunting her in all the right places.

The way his eyes shut tight, and the guttural desperation of his strangled groan went straight to the part of her that was 100 percent female, and she squeezed him through his shorts.

“
Christ
,” he swore under his breath, his eyes pinging open. “Abso-frickin-lutely.”

His hand pushed past that lacy border and slid, in one easy movement, into the slick heat between her legs. The sensation tore through her like an electric current, and she cried out as she bucked against the blissful invasion of his fingers.

“God,” he groaned, his lips at her neck again, his warm breath spreading goose bumps down her throat and prickling in her scalp as his finger swirled languorously. “You’re
so
wet.”

Harper had been wet all damn week.

And his light, gentle touch wasn’t nearly enough for what she needed. She squirmed against his hand, grinding, wanting more. “You want it harder, huh?” he murmured, and she gasped as his fingers suddenly became serious, dropping all the pansy-assed swirling and ploughing hard and true, straight to the erect knot of nerves he was seeking.

She gasped and bucked when he found it, shoving a hand into the hair at his nape and crying out when he rubbed—hanging on tight to him as he rubbed and rubbed, relentless in his quest.

“Yes,” she moaned over and over, squeezing his cock in her hand reflexively. His corresponding groan filled up her senses and expanded in her chest, and she delved frantically inside his shorts, needing suddenly,
desperately
, to feel him, to touch him, to wrap her hand around all that velvet steeliness.

“
Fuuuck,
” he groaned as she hit pay dirt and quickly—greedily—slid her hand up and down the length of him.

Then his mouth was on hers and they were kissing hard and deep and wet, and they were moaning and rubbing and tugging and grinding. Harper’s heart crashed in her chest and her pulse roared in her ears and her breathing came in shallow gasps and her breasts were squashed against his chest and they were in a goddamn bathroom at her
work
and she didn’t care.

Only his hot, frantic kisses and the build of tension inside her pelvis mattered in a world that had narrowed down to just the two of them. The rub of his finger on her clit, the slide of her hand on his cock, the frantic noises they were making at the backs of their throats as they kissed on a far deeper level than just their mouths.

Deeper than Harper had ever been kissed before.

Somewhere inside her, lost to the insanity that was lust, she knew it was significant. That everything about this man was significant. But that part did not have the con right now. Her clitoris was driving the bus, and it demanded all her attention as it hurtled her recklessly toward the station.

Which didn’t take much longer. The moment he slid two fingers inside her, all the pressure that had been building and coiling tight in her thighs and belly released in a sudden pop, and Harper was flung into the heavens.

She wrenched her mouth away, throwing her head back against the wall as she flew. Dex rubbed harder, quicker, and she reciprocated, increasing the slide of her hand on his cock, knowing from the tremble of his biceps and quads and the deep guttural edge to his groans that he was close.

Suddenly his hips jerked to a halt. A loud bellow ripped from his throat. Harper milked him harder, faster, crying out in pleasure
and
triumph as he came, too, spurting hot in her hand.

Her eyes were shut, but with her hand still firmly anchored at Dex’s nape they spiralled together, the pleasure so intense it felt like it was never going to end. She wanted to slow it right down, coast along with him through the wonder of it and marvel at the magic they’d created.

It felt like they’d been plunged into a rainbow, or maybe even seen the face of God. Harper wasn’t a religious person, but if anything was going to convert her, coming apart with Dex like this would do it.

They seemed to drift through the thrall forever, and it wasn’t until the chime of an incoming text message interrupted the moment that Harper came back to herself. Dex had collapsed against her, his full weight pinning her to the wall, his ragged breath hot at her neck. His hand was still in her pants, his semi-erect cock still in her hand, and his come was splattered over both of them.

She was a hot, sticky mess, and she’d never felt so damn
good
. So damn desired.

Powerful and female and wanton.

Harper could only begin to imagine how good she’d feel if their bits ever got to bump together for real. He had a lot going on between his legs, and while his fingers had sufficed this time, she sure as hell wanted
that
all up in her business.

“It isn’t mine,” she said eventually, when the chime sounded again.

“It’s mine,” he said, his lips brushing her neck, his voice muffled. “It’ll be one of the guys.”

He roused himself, his hand sliding out of her underwear to her hip, gripping it as he rocked his weight back on the balls of his feet, the handful of him she had sliding from her grasp.

“Well…” he said, looking down at himself, his voice still husky, “that was…”

“Messy?”

He huffed out a laugh, but Harper was secretly delighted to see he looked as mystified by what had just happened as she was. “Yeah.”

“Intense,” she offered.

He shoved a hand through his hair, his gaze locking with hers. “Definitely.”

A beat or two passed before his phone chimed again. He rolled his eyes, tucking himself back into his shorts as he reached behind for his mobile.

“Apparently we’re making an extra stop-off at the hospital radio station,” he said, reading the text. “And my absence has been noted.”

Harper’s head was still spinning, her legs still unsteady as she acknowledged his summons. “You’d better go then.”

He grimaced as he glanced at her, but it died as his gaze lit on her still gaping overalls and her bared breasts, the pulled-aside cups giving them the kind of support usually only found at the end of a surgeon’s knife.

“Yeah…but I don’t want to,” Dex muttered.

She was grateful for the support of the wall behind her as his heated gaze turned her legs back to jelly. He was staring at her like he wanted seconds.

Possibly with some chocolate topping.

He took a step toward her, but Harper threw her hand—the clean one—up to halt the movement. It landed on his chest, the muscle big and meaty beneath her palm. It took all her willpower not to curl her fingers into it.

“No,” she said, her voice still raspy. “Duty calls.”

For
both
of them. She was at work for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t uncommon for people to drop in to check on her progress, or even just to chat.

His frustrated gaze roamed over her face then back to her breasts again. It might as well have been his tongue for the way her nipples preened and burgeoned beneath his scrutiny. She felt the subtle tensing of his pec and locked her wrist, ready to repel him should he pounce.

Although, God knew, her nipples would probably win the argument between duty and lust if he really decided to push the boundary.

His phone chimed again and he growled—actually
growled
—low in the back of his throat. “Fine,” he huffed, the taut muscle relaxing beneath her palm before he reached over, yanked her zip up and took a step back.

He looked down at himself again. His jersey had escaped most of the load he’d shot only a minute ago, but some repair was clearly needed. He took a step toward the basin and looked at himself in the half mirror.

“How am I going to explain that?”

“Maybe not the truth,” Harper smiled.

He laughed. “Are you kidding? I just came in about ten seconds flat. I don’t think I’ll be bragging about that one.”

“Best damn ten seconds of my life,” she said. He glanced sidelong at her in the mirror and smiled. “Here.” She pulled a wad of paper towels out of the dispenser, flicking on the tap to wet them slightly before handing them over. He dabbed at the stains as she washed her hands and tended to her own mess, not that they could be really detected amidst all the caked on paint.

“I think I just made it worse,” Dex grimaced, inspecting the results in the mirror.

“Sorry,” Harper said, chewing on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Next time, I’ll get down on my knees.”

He glanced up sharply with a swift intake of breath. His gaze dropped to her mouth with such intensity she was left in no doubt he was thinking about her lips moving up and down his dick. “Christ,” he said, shaking his head at the grin she couldn’t suppress. “Are you
trying
to make me come again?”

Harper laughed this time. “Sorry. Just a little something for your spank bank.”

“Already there,” he said, the admission causing a tight, hot tingle low in her belly. He dragged his attention from her mouth back to the mirror, making a dissatisfied noise at the back of his throat.

“Here, try this,” Harper said, filling her cupped hand with the running tap water and splashing it at the affected area.

He jumped back as the water soaked in, gaping at her then at his jersey then back at her. “How does that make it better?”

“Just say you were washing your hands like a good boy and the tap sprayed up at you. They’re pretty notorious for that.”

He shook his head as he looked in the mirror again. “They’re never going to believe me.”

“Fine,” she murmured, amused at his despair as she pulled off more paper towels for him to clean up the excess water. “Tell them Chuck Nugent’s stepsister jerked you off in a bathroom while they were visiting sick and injured kiddies and playing nice for the cameras.”

He grabbed the hand towel and mopped at the wet patch. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he growled.

“Oh, I see,” she teased. “You just want to keep me as your dirty little secret.”

Dex threw the paper towel in the bin before flicking the tap off with a quick swat. He grabbed her by the baggy front of her overalls and hauled her close. “Fucking A,” he growled, his mouth landing on hers in a brief, punishing kiss.

Harper was useless against the onslaught, grasping his biceps and moaning her capitulation, almost falling backward when he released her just as abruptly. “Will you be watching the game tomorrow?”

She nodded. It was about all she was capable of currently. “Yes.”

His gaze locked with hers. “What will you be wearing?”

Harper’s breath hitched, and she was unable to look away from the fever she saw in his eyes. “What do you want me to wear?”

He glanced down at the zipper. “Nothing.”

Her belly tightened. “Okay.”

“I want you stretched out on your couch, naked in front of the television.”

“Okay.”

“I want you to slide your dildo in and keep it there for the entire game, and every time we score a try I want you to come.”

Harper was pretty damn sure she was about to come right now. She’d never been given homework by a guy before—erotic or otherwise—and she was so turned on she could barely see straight. She supposed she should be shocked. She’d known him for such a short time, and they were in a supposedly fake
platonic
relationship.

She
should
tell him to go to hell. But
screw that.

“Okay.”

“I want to know that while I’m
sweating
my ass off on that field that you’re at home
getting
your ass off. Will you do that for me, Harper?”

She swallowed. “Okay.”

Long moments passed as they stared at each other. Her heart tripped manically in her chest and at all her pulse points. Her breath came in rough pants. Harper wondered if the heat and hunger she could see in Dex’s eyes was his, or merely a reflection of her own arousal.

He nodded, satisfied. “Good. See you Sunday.”