Behind the Net: a grumpy sunshine hockey romance

WAVE AFTER WAVE of intense pleasure radiates from where I press the toy against my clit. I’m shaking, back arching off the bed, muscles taut, mouth open with my eyes clenched closed as I ride out the most intense orgasm of my life.

When I can’t take it anymore, I turn the toy off and collapse back into the pillows, catching my breath.

That was… amazing. I lift my head and stare at the toy Hazel sent me. My mind is blown. Floaty, relaxed feelings flow through my body, and I huff a laugh.

That thing worked, and fast. Maybe I’m not broken after all. I bite my lip, grinning to myself. Thinking about Jamie while I used it made everything more intense.

So I have a little crush on him. I always have. I’m not going to do anything about it. I take a sobering breath and get dressed before heading downstairs.

Jamie’s in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher, looking absolutely fucking delicious in athletic pants and a gray long-sleeved shirt. Something about the way the thin fabric clings to his chest and shoulders makes me want to run back upstairs and use the toy all over again.

I break into a huge smile. “You’re home.”

This week, I texted him that Daisy missed him, but the truth is, I missed him.

He watches me with an expression I can’t discern as I walk over and wrap my arms around him in a hug. It isn’t until my face is pressed against his chest and my eyes fall closed that I realize maybe this isn’t how most assistants greet their bosses.

I can’t find the energy to care, though. Using that toy wiped me out.

“How was your flight?”

When I step back, Jamie won’t meet my eyes, and his cheekbones are flushed. He shifts away from me, folding his arms over his chest. “Fine. Good.”

“Good.” I smile at him again.

I’m just feeling so relaxed. Hazel will be so smug, and I’m going to buy her flowers as a thank you. No, the whole flower shop. Every damn flower in the place.

I watch Jamie’s Adam’s apple as it bobs. His gaze darts to mine before he closes his eyes, frowning.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine,” he manages before storming upstairs.

I raise an eyebrow, watching his tall, strong form as he disappears. “Grumpy,” I call after him.

His door slams, and when I return to my room a few minutes later to grab something, I hear his shower running. He must be tired from traveling or something.

I open my bedside drawer, where I stashed the toy, and grin to myself. I’m going to use it again tonight.