I rounded up the last of the dirty towels and found Mikey, who was organizing equipment.
“I’m throwing these in the wash,” I said, nodding at the laundry basket I held against my hip. He nodded and I headed down the concrete hallway to the boiler room where the washers and dryers were.
I was looking forward to an off day tomorrow. Kyler and I would get to enjoy our favorite Sunday rituals: pancakes and cartoons, a matinee and homemade pizza for dinner. I needed a day to focus only on him. The road schedule was wearing me down.
Luke’s team had a rare Saturday night off, I knew from the long glance I’d taken at their schedule, which was posted on a magnet in our locker room. What was he doing? Probably going out – he was a single 28-year-old man, after all. I swallowed against the bitter taste that rose in my throat when I imagined him kissing another woman. As if it would stop there. When my thoughts wandered to him saying another woman’s name right before he came, I slammed the laundry basket down on the concrete floor.
I had to stop thinking about him. This was going to drive me crazy. He was gone. It’d been three days since he’d even texted me. And the message had been about how many goals he’d scored at practice – it hadn’t exactly gotten my pulse pounding.
With a spin of a knob on the washing machine, a steady stream of water started flowing. I was reaching for the powdered soap when a hand wrapped around my waist. Taking in a sharp breath, I was about to scream when another hand slid over my mouth.
“Shh,” a familiar voice said. “It’s me, baby.”
I craned my head to find Luke’s cool blue eyes looking down at me. The hand on my waist slid beneath my shirt and he caressed my midriff with his long fingers. He slid his other hand away from my mouth and turned me to face him.
The sweet, longing expression I remembered from our last time together was gone. His blazing eyes made me feel like a sheep being stalked by a wolf. So why did that create a flutter that started in my stomach and dropped down between my thighs?
He looked almost angry as he ran a thumb over my jawline, studying me. He moved his hand back into my hair and grabbed a handful, pulling it to tip my face up to his.
My lips parted slightly and he descended, devouring my mouth with his. He pushed my body against the washing machine with his, and the force of the hit only added to my arousal.
My muffled moan into his mouth seemed to incite him further. His tongue tangled with mine and I reached, not caring where my hands landed. I gripped the hard lines of his waist, finding it all resistance. There wasn’t anything extra there for my fingers to sink into.
One of his hands was still pulling my hair – damn, that felt good, and he made short work of pulling down my yoga pants and panties in one motion with the other hand.
Someone could’ve walked into the boiler room at any moment, but I didn’t care. This was all that mattered. He wasn’t moaning another woman’s name; he was here, with me. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t care, either.
He flipped me around roughly and my palms hit the top of the washing machine. I froze for the second he spent unzipping his own pants, not wanting anything to interrupt this state of bliss. I knew what was coming, and I was practically shaking with desire.
The rip of a foil wrapper made me widen my legs a little more.
“You want me?” he asked, his voice hot against my ear.
“Yes.” I barely got the word out, I was so overwhelmed by how much I wanted him.
Wrapping a powerful arm around my chest, he gripped my shoulder with one hand and shoved inside me with so much force I cried out. He fucked me with deep, hard thrusts, breathing hard and grunting into my hair.
The sensations were overwhelming. His strong body driving into mine with such force had me on the edge of an orgasm already. And knowing he wanted me – not a random from a bar, but me, made me dizzy with satisfaction.
I wrapped my fingers around the back of the washing machine, needing something to brace myself with as he fucked me hard and fast. I’d just taken hold when he spun me around again. His eyes had softened a little, and he lifted me by the waist and sat me on the washing machine.
My lips tingled with soreness from his rough kiss, and he leaned in and kissed me tenderly, easing the sting. He worked my pants the rest of the way down and I kicked off my shoes so he could get them off.
He pushed my thighs apart and pulled my ass toward him. When he pushed himself back into me, we moaned together at the sensation. He filled me completely, and I knew any other man would be a disappointment after him.
His thrusts were just as deep, but slower now. He kissed me again, soft and sweet, and then pulled back to watch my face. With a quick motion, he pulled the t-shirt over my head, his eyes flashing when he took in my black satin bra.