Page 84 of Sin Bin Daddies
It’s rough, urgent, days of pent-up tension igniting between us. He grips my thighs, his mouth finding mine again as he moves, each roll of his hips claiming me in ways I swore I wouldn’t let him.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, biting back moans, the heat between us suffocating, intoxicating. He grabs my chin, forcing my gaze to his.
“Eyes on me,hermosa,” he commands, and I shatter all over again.
Then there’s a knock at the door.
I freeze.
Leo curses under his breath, his hand snapping over my mouth just as a voice calls from the other side.
“Leo? You in there?”
Coach Ace.
Panic surges through me, but Leo is steady, his breath still labored as he forces himself to sound calm. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a few. Finishing a call.”
There’s a pause, then footsteps retreat down the hall.
Leo finally exhales, his grip loosening. I push at his chest, my entire body still trembling.
“We can’t—” My voice is hoarse, wrecked. “This can’t happen again.”
He studies me, his expression unreadable.
“I mean it, Leo.” I shove at his shoulders, forcing space between us as I slide off the desk, hastily pulling my clothes back into place.
My hands shake as I smooth my leggings, my heart still racing.
His fingers graze my wrist. “Maddie?—”
“I’m with two guys who care about me.” My voice cracks, but I push forward, swallowing past the ache in my throat. “Guys who don’t treat me like something they can throw away when they’re done. They’re not afraid to be seen in public with me. They’re different.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, but he doesn’t say a word.
He just watches me, his gray eyes clouded with something unreadable. Then, finally, he speaks. “I can’t care for you.”
The words slice through me like a blade.
I suck in a sharp breath, my hands curling into fists. “Then let me be.”
I don’t wait for his response. I turn and walk out, leaving him in the office, leaving behind whatever this is—whatever it was.
Because I refuse to let Leo Vega hurt me again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ford
I shouldn’t be thinkingabout her like this.
But as I sit on the bench, stripping off my gear after practice, I know there’s no use pretending anymore. She’s under my skin.
Asher is moving fast, peeling off his jersey, shaking out his damp hair. “I gotta head out. If you see our girl, tell her I’m sorry.”
Our girl.
The words shouldn’t make something sharp twist in my chest.
