Page 62 of Penalty Box
“Cass,” he whispered, already breathless. “We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep—”
“Shut up, Calder.” I dipped my face to his neck.
A split second passed, then he whirled round to switch positions, pinning me to the wall. His thigh wedged between mine, and I rolled my hips instinctively, chasing that delicious friction. His mouth was everywhere… jaw, collarbone, the sensitive curve of my neck. I moaned out loud, eyes fluttering closed.
I didn’t care anymore. Not about the rules, my dad, what I should and shouldn’t be doing.
I tugged at the waistband of his pants, fingers desperate. “I need…”
My words trailed off. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for. He slipped his hand beneath my shirt, and palmed my breast through the lace of my bra.
“I know what you need.” Mason pushed my pants down just enough, fingers sliding into my underwear. I was already soaked.
He cursed softly against my skin, fumbling with his jeans. There was no slow build or teasing, just fast, hungry hands and too many layers keeping us from what we wanted most. He turned me toward the railing and braced me with one hand on my waist. The other guided his cock into me in one smooth, punching thrust.
I gasped, head dropping forward.
There were still people in the arena, the usual stragglers after the game. Being quiet was more than decency, it was necessary. I bit down on my hand to keep from crying out as he worked up a tantalizing rhythm. He moved fast and hard, muffling his own sounds against my shoulder. I gripped the railing tightly, rocking back to meet him, pleasure building heavy and relentless.
It was messy. Hot. Half-dressed and out of breath. Two consensual adults blowing off steam. A one-time thing after thefirstone-time thing.
That’s what I kept reminding myself.
One more time.
When I came, I didn’t hold back. My body trembled as Mason groaned behind me, shuddering through his own release. He wrapped an arm around me, holding me close until he’d spent every last drop.
If it were up to me, we would’ve continued the night and this activity plan back at my place. But my phone buzzed a few timesin quick succession. We hurried to fix our clothes, avoiding eye contact. Or maybe it was just me not wanting to look at him…
“This doesn’t feel like a mistake,” he said, chest still heaving after all that exertion.
I still didn’t look at him, but stared at Josie’s rapid-fire texts instead. She was at the bar and wanted me to come.
“It doesn’t matter what it feels like, Mason.”
I grabbed my bag and left him standing there. Probably with a reasonable argument that would easily win me over, but I couldn’t risk it. I had to get away before I made another mistake.
No matter how good it felt.
Josie and I weren’t exactly best friends, but she was the best distraction to whatever the hell I’d just gotten myself deeper into. Or at least, that’s what I thought she’d be. But the second I stepped inside Gerry’s, my stomach flipped. The whole team was there, taking up more than half the tables in the place.
It was loud. Not in an overcrowded, bodies pressed against the bar kind of way, but in the way that laughter and clinking glasses could make it feel too full, too warm, too much. I scanned the room, eyes adjusting to the low light and neon signs. The Surge had basically colonized the back half of the bar. Jerseys, backwards caps, signature shit-shooting… the whole roster had shown up to celebrate tonight’s blowout win.
I’d never hung out with these people, because they weren’t my people. Not really. The world was very different for them. We had nothing in common.
Still, I didn’t turn to leave.
Grayson was halfway through telling a story that had his shoulders shaking with laughter. Hunter sat across from him,nursing a beer with his boot propped on an empty chair. Every now and again he’d toss peanuts at whoever tried to sit there.
Josie waved me over, and despite several reservations rooted in common sense, I obliged.
My underwear clung to me in the worst way, damp with memory. The ghost of Mason’s breath tickled my neck, the bruising grip of his hands on my hips. My body was electric, caught between panic and something far more dangerous. I smiled through it all.
“Hey,” Josie said, sliding a whiskey sour in my direction. “I didn’t think you’d come, but this is amazing!”
“Amazing.” I cringed inwardly. When was I ever amazing? “Thanks for inviting me.”
Her laugh tinkled, light and airy. “I should be thanking you for helping me balance out the testosterone in here. Speaking of…”
