Page 36 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

His lips were on hers in an instant, his left hand on her cheek and both of hers fisted in his shirt. It was different from their pregame kisses. Hotter, harder, faster. Open-mouthed and wet and half bites of each other’s lips as they fought for control of the kiss. He won, and she gave up easily, letting him push her against the window of her office, pushing closer and closer and closer until there was no space between them.

She slid her arms around to his back, pulling him tightly to her, nails digging through the material of his shirt. He grunted into her mouth as she hit a spot below his neck, which only urged her on, sliding her nails into his hair.

He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses against the column of her throat, and her head fell back against the glass as she moaned. She wanted him so badly. Needed him. Now she understood his words.

When he lightly bit below her ear, she slid her hand down toward the top of his pants, wanting so badly to touch him. She rubbed him through his sweatpants with the heel of her hand, enjoying as he moved against her, groaning deeply. She felt her own slickness, warm against the fabric of her panties, quickly growing uncomfortable. She wanted to feel him inside of her, his tongue, his fingers. Him.

He seemed to sense her urgency, his hands on her ass as he picked her up, allowing her legs to wrap around him. And then she was grinding on that spot that—fuck. She was wild, crazed. She needed more, she needed him.

She felt like she was going to explode. He was so hard, his abs, his cock. God, it was huge, and the feel of it against her center made her whole body quake.

“Fuck, Moretti. You make me fucking crazy.” He held her up with one hand on her ass, her back still against the glass. His other hand buried into her hair, and he pulled gently, grinding himself into her as she cried out. “Yeah? You like that? Gonna come all over that sexy little pantsuit just for me?” His words were quiet but gruff, and she already felt herself getting close to that edge she’d rarely crossed with anybody else.

The hand in her hair slid to hold her chin so her eyes met his, his thumb slipping into her mouth. She sucked on it, and his eyes darkened even further. He grinded against her again and her eyes started to drift closed at the pleasure.

“Nuh-uh. Eyes on me, Moretti.”

Just as he started the motion again, the door to her office swung open.

The curse that left Colton was angry. He set her down softly and turned around, shielding her from the view of whoever had just ruined the moment. Her brain wasn’t working, neurons firing in all the wrong ways as she tried to comprehend what was happening. She adjusted her blazer and pants, running a hand through her mussed hair.

When she peeked over Colton’s shoulder, there were Coach Turner and her semi-newly appointed superior, Tim, both with varying degrees of horrified expressions on their faces. Her heart was still racing, whether from what had just happened or what might still happen—her imminent firing and departure from the Sabers—she couldn’t be sure.

“Hello.” She cursed her breathless voice, moving to stand in front of Colton, worried about what might be on full display in his sweatpants. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Hello. Can I help you with something?”

Coach Turner glared at Colton behind her. “We were coming to check if you needed more time with Colton or more equipment since he seems to be improving with your work. Though now, I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

“Coach, this was my fault. Lucia was trying to work, and I’m just amped up from the win.”

Tim’s face still held that appalled expression as he spoke. “I must remind you of the disclosure agreement you both signed. You are not permitted to have relations on team property. Do we need to get you a chaperone for each time you meet? If this is how your sessions have be—”

“It’s not.” Colton cut him off. “Our sessions are very professional, as you’ll see from each of the reports Lucia puts together afterward. She’s the reason I played as well as I did today. Her sessions have been invaluable to me.”

Lucia’s heart flip-flopped at his praise. Then she remembered his lips on hers and then on her throat, and she had to clench her legs together again. She felt movement near her waist, like Colton might reach out to steady her, but he must’ve thought better of it. Probably for the best, considering their predicament.

“I’m very sorry, Tim, Coach Turner. It won’t happen again.” At least her voice was starting to even out.

Coach Turner gave a curt nod as Tim walked out of her office. “If you need anything extra…” His voice sounded pained, but he followed Tim.

With both of them gone, Lucia turned back to face Colton. He smiled down at her, the ghost of a dimple in his cheek.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Moretti.” He pushed his hands into her hair, massaging her scalp as he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her stomach dropped as she watched him go. She knew what they’d done was wrong, but that didn’t change the fact that it’d felt so, so right. She knew, just by looking at his face, that he felt the same way.

She hadn’t had time to call Isa in the previous weeks, so busy with the season that she’d barely even had time to sleep. Luckily, they were both free for a few minutes before her next meeting with Colton.

It was their first time talking since The Night, and she just let the words tumble out of her, making sure to shut and lock her office door before she divulged anything too juicy to her colleagues.

Isa was, once again, shocked into silence.

“Isa, please. Colton will be here soon, and I really need your thoughts.”

Silence.

“Isa…” She drew out the last syllable for a few seconds.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought my best friend just told me that she dry-humped the man she was pretending to date, whom she also claimed to hate the last time I saw her. But that can’t be right. I must’ve misheard. So say what you just said again, but a little clearer, please.” Lucia heard the edge of Isa’s accent, a tell-tale sign of her distress.

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