Page 34 of Sin Bin Daddies
She bites her lip, eyes dark with something wicked. “I can fix that.”
“Yeah, man. You know we’ve got to condition our muscles later. Consider this a warm-up,” I add.
She moans in agreement, already shifting on the sofa, her hands sliding down his stomach as she tugs him closer. Ford groans as she takes him in her mouth, his head tilting back, hand tangling in her hair.
I slip behind her, my hands on her waist. Within minutes, we’re right back in our rhythm, the earlier interruption forgotten.
The afternoon sun filters through the windows as we step into the elevator, muscles loose, bodies sated.
Ford leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking relaxed. I’m about to crack a joke when we reach the first floor, but the moment we step out—there she is.
The blonde from earlier.
She freezes the second she sees us, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red than before. Her lips part slightly, as if she’s about to speak, but no words come out.
Ford stiffens beside me, his relaxed demeanor disappearing in an instant. “You again.”
She swallows hard. “I—I’m really sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Ford’s eyes narrow slightly. “Do you know who we are?”
She hesitates, gaze flicking between the two of us before dropping to the large golden retriever sitting patiently by her side.
I can sense her trepidation. She’s nervous, but not nearly as anxious as Ford is. Not because she walked in on something she shouldn’t have, but because Ford likes his privacy.
The thought of someone being in his business has him on edge—I can feel it in the way his jaw clenches.
But then?—
She lifts her chin and speaks, her voice clear despite the tension in the air. “I’ve seen your posters in the arena.”
“Arena?” I ask.
“I’m Madeline Lane. The new team mascot.”
Silence.
Ford’s expression doesn’t change, but I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.
I glance down at the golden retriever sitting next to her. His calm, easy demeanor is the exact opposite of the tension crackling in the air.
Ford exhales sharply. “We need to go.”
I nod, but before she can step in the elevator, I glance back at her. “I’ll see you around, Madeline.”
She nods quickly, still flustered, and I can’t help but think she’s pretty.
I just wish she’d seen me dressed first.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Madeline
It starts with Leo.
His hands grab my hips, fingers pressing into my skin like he owns me. His voice is low, filthy, murmuring in Spanish as he thrusts slow and deep, stretching me, filling me.
The heat of his body surrounds me, the pressure building, winding me tight. Then, there’s another pair of hands on me.
