Glove Save (Carolina Comets)

Greer’s eyes flash with heat at my words.

Words I can’t even believe I’ve just spoken, not after last night. I’m still upset with him, but I also understand. I’d literally just told him it had been years since I’d had sex, and the last person I’d been with had abused me. He wanted to make it special for me, and I can’t really fault him for that.

He reaches into his suit pocket and produces a key card, holding it my way. “It’s the suite on the top floor. Go.”

“By myself?”

“Yes. I have to explain to my mother that I’m leaving.”

Oh god. I hadn’t even thought of that. “What are you going to tell her?”

“That you have a headache, and I’m taking you upstairs to lie down. I’ll be up in five minutes.”

I nod, taking the card. I notice then that my hands are shaking.

I’m nervous. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s Greer, and I trust him. But I suppose that doesn’t erase the fact that I haven’t had sex in nearly a decade, and it feels like I’m doing this for the first time all over again.

I suck in a steadying breath, then slip past Greer. I’m a few steps away when he calls my name.

“Yes?” I turn to look at him.

“I want you naked on your knees waiting for me.”

I gulp, then race toward the elevators. My knees shake as I press the button for the top floor, holding the card up to the talking machine when it yells at me that I need a key card for access.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

I’m doing this.

I am having sex with Greer.

If last night is anything to go off of, I’m having hot, rough sex with Greer—and I cannot fucking wait.

The elevator feels like it takes days to reach the top floor, but when it does, it spits me out into a small hall with a door at the end. It’s a big door. A dark door. A foreboding door. A door that, once I open it, I can’t close.

Am I ready for this?

Yes.

I slide the key into the slot and push into the room. It’s dim inside, the lights turned down, casting a soft, hazy glow. Soft music plays from a speaker somewhere, creating a more romantic atmosphere. There’s an ice bucket sitting on the coffee table. Inside is a bottle of champagne—probably something expensive—and two glasses sit off to the side. There’s a tray of chocolates that I can’t resist. I pop one into my mouth and grin when I realize it’s my favorite—caramel.

I resist the urge to grab another, knowing I must be running out of time. I check my phone.

Two minutes.

I let out a squeak. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I try to stay focused and not fixate on how hard my hands shake as I reach behind me and pull at the zipper of my dress. I do my best to regulate my breathing as I let the material slide down my legs, and when I unclasp my bra and slip off my underwear, I ignore how my knees knock together. I fold my clothes and gently lay them on the chaise lounge, then toe off the last item I’m wearing—my heels.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. There’s no way I’m doing this. I’m Stevie Thomas, divorcée and mother of a ten-year-old. I’m not the hook-up-with-a-hot-hockey-player kind of girl, and I’m really not the kinky-sex kind of girl.

But none of that matters when my knees hit the floor and I hear the elevator chime.

This is it.

The door to the room clicks open with a soft snick. Greer’s dress shoes bounce off the floor in the entryway with sharp clacks.

Then, he’s there. He’s standing before me, his green eyes taking me in as I stare up at him.

I’m wet, like embarrassingly so, but I can’t help it. There’s something so hot about the way he’s looking at me, like he’s proud of me. I want to make him proud.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, walking deeper into the room. He strips off his jacket, setting it on the back of a chair, then tugs at the collar of his shirt. He undoes the top two buttons, then moves to the sleeves, unbuttoning them and shoving them up his forearms.

I don’t think he’s ever looked better than he does at this moment.

He stalks toward me, his hands going to his belt. This feels familiar, yet I’m eagerly anticipating it like it’s the first time.

“Take my cock out, Stevie.”

Like last night, I undo his buckle and shove his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. His cock springs free, and I reach for it, the desire to have my mouth full of him strong. I might have felt awful last night after he left, but it doesn’t erase how good it felt in the moment. My mouth waters just thinking about it again.

“No,” he says, stopping my efforts. “Open.”

I slacken my jaw, and he sets his cock just inside my mouth. The weight of him is heavy, and I love it. A bit of pre-cum leaks onto my tongue, and it takes everything in me not to react and lick at him.

“I’m going to come down your throat like I did before. After, I’m going to bury my face between your legs until you’re screaming my name, but you won’t come—not until I say you can. Then, when I’ve had my fill of you, I’m going to fuck you. Only then can you come. Understand?”

I nod.

“Good girl.” He reaches out with two fingers, running them along my jaw. “Now, relax.”

Slowly, he slides his cock into my mouth, dragging it back and forth against my tongue inch by tedious inch. He takes his time teasing and toying with me. I hate it and love it all the same.

By the time his cock reaches the back of my throat, my jaw is tired and my knees are killing me, but I don’t care. Having him inside of me like this feels like coming home.

“So good,” he mutters, watching as I swallow around his cock. “Are you ready?”

I nod.

And he lets go.

Just like last night, he fucks into me without one iota of gentleness, and just like last night, I’m in heaven. He’s using me again, but I know the score this time, and I welcome it. I squeeze my thighs together as he has his way with my mouth, and he doesn’t miss it.

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” he asks as I can barely breathe around him. There’s no way my mascara isn’t running down my cheeks, no way my eyeshadow isn’t a wreck, but I don’t care.

He’s right, though. My pussy is throbbing, and I want to touch myself badly right now. I’ve never felt an ache like this before.

“Do it,” he instructs, reading my mind. “Touch your cunt.”

My hand goes between my legs, and I sigh in relief the second my fingers brush over my clit. He must feel the same because not seconds later, he’s emptying himself down my throat.

Unlike last night, I’m unable to keep it all in this time, and some dribbles out. Greer reaches down and swipes the mess away, shoving his cum-soaked thumb into my mouth, silently instructing me to suck it off.

I do so with glee.

“So proud of you,” he mutters, and a wave of pleasure washes through me at his praise.

Then I’m being hauled to my feet. My legs are numb from kneeling for so long, but it’s not a problem for Greer. He drags me to the chaise lounge, swiping the clothes I carefully folded and laid there onto the floor. He sets me on the seat, and this time, it’s him who drops to his knees.

He’s still wearing his dress clothes, which I don’t think is fair, but I can’t complain, especially when he puts his hands on my legs and pushes my thighs open.

There’s no preamble, no teasing like before. He’s there in an instant, his tongue on my pussy as he licks and sucks at me like a starved man.

I don’t dare close my eyes, not wanting to miss a moment. Not like he’d let me anyway. I remember the rule.

He sucks my clit into his mouth, and I’ve never been so close to an orgasm so fast. I groan, torn between wanting to come so badly and wanting to please him at the same time. My legs shake as I try to hold it off, and Greer laughs.

He laughs.

He eases his ministrations, and my impending orgasm fades, but Greer isn’t satisfied with that. He eats at me, bringing me to the brink again, then backs off. He does it two more times until I can feel sweat sliding down my back, and my legs shake around his head as I try to stave off the wave that so desperately wants to hit me.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, eyes glistening like he’s the one getting off on this.

I want to nod, but it somehow comes out as a headshake. There’s no way I can keep going. If his tongue touches me again, I’m a goner, but I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to disappoint him. I want to be good for him.

He lets out another dark chuckle, then kisses his way up my body, paying extra attention to the marks on my stomach, and he takes a turn kissing each of my breasts before planting his lips over mine. I should probably be grossed out, kissing him after he just spent so much time between my legs, but I’m not. I like the way I taste on his lips.

He kisses my mouth, then my nose, my cheek, all the way to my ear, where he makes the sweetest promise I’ve ever heard.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Stevie.”

A whimper claws its way out of my throat.

“Do you want that?” He pulls back, running a finger over my cheek as he stares into my eyes. “Do you want to see how well you take my cock?”

I nod.

“Say it.”

I slide my tongue over my lips. “Please, Greer. I want your cock.”

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. Then he shoves away, holding his hand out to me. “Come.”

I let him pull me up, then steer me toward the bedroom, his hands running over my body the entire time. He spins me around when I reach the bed, capturing my mouth with his and kissing me hard enough to leave a bruise.

I’m out of breath when he finally relents, giving me a gentle shove onto the mattress. I fall backward, watching as he unbuttons his dress shirt, then peels it off his shoulders. He removes his undershirt, his belt. He shoves his pants and boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them off somewhere to the side.

Finally, he’s naked before me, and holy hell is it a sight worth waiting for. He’s lean but full of muscles. His shoulders are broad, his abs defined, his thighs rock solid.

He’s beautiful.

He laughs. “Thank you.”

“Oh shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

I blush, and he doesn’t miss it.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Stevie. I work hard for my body. I’m glad you enjoy it. I enjoy yours too.” He sets a knee on the bed, his hand wrapping around my ankle as he drags his eyes over me. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Stop,” I mutter, starting to feel shy, which is ridiculous considering everything else tonight.

“I mean it. You’re stunning, and I want to worship your body properly if you’ll let me.”

“Oh yeah?”

A sinister smile tugs at his lips. “Not tonight, though. Tonight, I’m going to fuck you hard.”

Without warning, he climbs into the bed, grabbing my legs and yanking me toward him. He fits himself between my thighs like it’s right where he belongs.

He runs his nose along my neck, pressing kisses to my throat. “You smell incredible. Like caramel candies.”

“I always have them in my purse. They’re my favorite.”

“They’re my favorite now too.”

He kisses my neck again, and I giggle, but it quickly turns into a sigh when I feel his cock press against the part of me that hasn’t seen action in far too long. He feels foreign and familiar all at once, sliding along my pussy, teasing at my entrance.

“I need…”

“What, Stevie? What do you need?”

I grab his face, pulling it to mine. I look him right in the eyes and say, “Fuck me, Greer. Please.”

He doesn’t waste a moment, slamming himself home. I let out a loud yelp, the sting of not being fucked for so long making it hurt, but the pain is gone in seconds, replaced by nothing but pleasure as Greer rocks into me.

“Fucking hell,” he curses as he buries himself until he has nothing left to give. “You’re…” He huffs out a labored breath. “Incredible. You feel fucking incredible.”

I feel incredible? He feels incredible. I don’t think anything could ever get better than this moment.

Slowly, he rocks into me, and I lied—this moment is better. His cock drags along every right spot, and I can already feel myself getting close to the orgasm that’s been just out of reach all night.

“More,” I tell him.

He growls out his approval, and before I know it, I’m flipped onto my stomach and dragged to my knees, where Greer pounds into me again at the same time his hand comes down on my ass. It stings, but I welcome it. He swats at me again, and I’m almost embarrassed by the moan that escapes me.

“My handprint looks good on you. Maybe one day, you’ll let me spank you properly.”

Goose bumps rise on my skin at the thought of Greer bending me over his knee and paddling my ass.

One hand kneading the red mark he’s just made and the other fisting my hair in a tight hold that borders on painful, Greer folds himself over, rutting into me as he kisses the back of my neck. His mouth is such a sharp contrast to what his hands and his cock are doing, and I like them all equally.

“Whose pussy is this, Stevie?”

A shiver races down my spine at his words. “Yours.”

“Whose?” he growls into my ear again.

“Yours!”

“That’s right. Mine, mine, mine.” Each word is enunciated with a hard thrust as his hand moves from my hair to my throat. He presses lightly just on either side of my esophagus, testing the waters, but I’m good. I trust him. I trust this.

He doesn’t relent as he pounds into me so hard there’s no way I’m not going to feel this tomorrow. I’m glad because I want to feel it tomorrow. I want to feel this always. I want this moment seared into my brain, into my body. I want to be ruined by him…if I’m not already.

I squeeze my eyes tightly together as he fucks into me, my orgasm so, so close but just out of reach.

That’s when I feel it. Something warm slides down my back and into my ass. It’s his spit; I know it is. Something hot and heavy presses against the hole that hasn’t been explored before, and Greer’s thrusts slow when he realizes I’ve tensed up.

“Relax,” he says softly, and I do. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs as he presses his thumb into me, massaging my throat at the same time.

It’s uncomfortable at first, but I don’t hate it. I feel him spit again, his thumb pushing in deeper.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you here,” he says, the pace of his movements picking up. “Your ass is going to stretch around my cock so beautifully.”

I moan at the thought. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted before, but with Greer, it sounds like paradise.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” I nod. “Next time, I’ll come prepared, and this ass is going to be mine.”

“Yours,” I echo.

“Do you want to come?” he asks, still sliding his thumb in and out of my ass with his thrusts.

“Please,” I beg, my body literally shaking with the need for a release.

“Put your hand on your pussy, beautiful, and come for me like the good little girl you are.”

I slip my fingers between my legs, and it takes all of two touches to my clit before I fall over the edge. Wave after wave hits me, each one enunciated by Greer’s thrusts.

“So perfect,” he groans. “So…fucking…perfect.”

He stills, emptying himself into me, and at that moment I realize what just happened.

We didn’t use a condom.

“Fuck,” he murmurs like he’s just realized too. “Stevie, I—”

I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m on birth control.”

“I get tested every month,” he says.

“I trust you.”

He sighs, holding on to my hips as he slips out of me. I can feel him leaking out between my thighs as he turns me over, and I relish the mess we’ve made.

Greer slides off the bed, and I hear him pad out of the bedroom as I lie there, trying to catch my breath. I’m exhausted. I think the last time I felt this worn out was when I was lying in the hospital bed after I gave birth to Macie.

I jump at the sudden intrusion between my legs.

“Sorry,” he mutters, dragging a wet washcloth over me, cleaning away everything we just did.

He tosses it aside, then climbs into the bed next to me, tugging me to him until I’m practically on top of him. His heartbeat is erratic under my ear, thumping away in record time, and it’s the sweetest melody I’ve ever heard, lulling me into slumber.

“Sleep, Stevie,” he whispers, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “Sleep.”

It’s the most restful night I’ve had in ages.