Page 79 of Player Misconduct
Then I click back into Isla’s text conversation.
Me:Aleksi as a bodypillow is a dangerous idea.
I sent my phone down as I select the recipient doctor I need mymy files to go to.
I see her text notification come up on my phone and smile at it.
Isla:It sounds like a great idea to me.
I pick my phone back up and enter the chat box..
Me:You have no idea how tempting it is. These hormones are making me so damn horny I’d giveanything to sit on Aleksi’s cock again. The sex was incredible.
I hit send, grin halfway formed—then freeze.
The chat header doesn’t sayIsla.It saysAleksi Mäkelin.
“Oh my God.”
I stare in horror as the gray checkmark appears.
Then the second one.
Read.
The universe doesn’t give me time to breathe before the door to my office swings open.
He’s standing there—barefoot in a damp hair, towel slung low around his hips, droplets still clinging to his skin.
“You always have a free invitation to sit on my cock, Kendall,” he says, voice low, rough, as he stalks toward me. “All you have to do is ask.”
I think my brain actually short-circuits.
“That text wasn’t meant for you. It was supposed to go to Isla,” I manage, voice strangled.
“I think you're wrong. I think you finally sent it to the right person.” He takes a step forward, every inch of him glistening temptation. “Someone who can make that happen for you.”
“We can’t, sex will only complicate things, like it already has. It was just a fantasy, something I wasn’t going to act on.”
His mouth curves, equal parts smug and wicked. “Sex with me is a fantasy? Guess I’m not imagining things then.”
He keeps moving closer, slow and deliberate, until the air between us thickens to something neither of us can ignore.
“This is our place of work,” I blurt, because my brain’s last defense mechanism is professionalism.
“No one’s here but us. Besides, the broom closet has gotten a lot of use from the players and your friends,” he says softly.
And that’s the problem.
Because he’s standing there—dripping, beautiful, and completely unbothered by my mortification—and all I can think about is how easily he makes me feel safe.
And how badly I want to stop pretending I don’t want him.He takes one step closer, then another, until my back hits the edge of the exam table. My breath catches. The air between us feels hot, heavy—like the walls themselves are holding their breath.
“Aleksi,” I whisper, palms braced against the cold metal edge. “We can’t.”
His voice is low, steady. “We can if you want to.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
