My entire body was sore.
It wasn’t the kind of sore after an intense hot yoga flow, either. It was bone deep, the kind I could only imagine a person might feel after running their first marathon. In my case, it had been a sex marathon — one I did not train properly for. But I didn’t regret it. That soreness was delicious, the kind that reminded me in little flashes of everything that had happened.
My hands ached from gripping onto Vince the night before, my toes from how they’d curled, my thighs from how they’d quivered, my neck from how it’d held my head up while I watched him fuck me. My core burned from the cardio, my pussy from being filled, and — a new sensation — my ass from being taken for the first time.
And while I wanted to stretch out all my sore muscles, I couldn’t, because I was covered by thick thighs and hair-dusted arms, Vince’s warmth surrounding me and holding me to him.
I tried to wriggle free, laughing when I didn’t so much as make the behemoth of a man budge. But he did stir at my attempt, and he wrapped me up tighter, kissing the back of my neck.
“Trying to escape already?”
His words rumbled through me, and I bit back a smile, snuggling into his arms. It had been so long since I’d been held like that.
Of course, that reminder made my eyes bulge open wide.
Because the last man who had held me like that had also broken me completely.
I swallowed down my panic, drawing circles on Vince’s arm. “I need to stretch.”
“Mm, I can help with that,” he said, his voice low and seductive as he pressed his hard-on against my ass. I’d no sooner let out a laugh before I was pinned in the sheets, his hips between my thighs, my wrists overhead and held against the pillows.
“No, I mean seriously, I am sore as hell,” I said against his lips. “I need to stretch.”
“I’ll stretch you out,” he promised. “After breakfast.”
And then he was kissing down my body, his scruff tickling the entire way.
I wiggled away from the touch, breaking out of his grasp just in time to catch his face in my hands before he could land between my legs.
“I don’t think I could come right now even if you stayed there all morning,” I said.
He kissed the inside of my thigh. “Not with that attitude.”
“You already got me three times last night.”
“We call that a hat trick. But I still think we can do better. Let’s go for four.”
I laughed when he tried to descend again. “Sir, am I going to have to kick you out of this bed?”
“I’d like to see you try,” he said, but he conceded, balancing back on his knees as he took in the sight of me spread out in the sheets below him. The morning light was coming in through the sheer curtains covering my windows. “Alright. What’s sore, how can I help?”
“Everything,” I said.
He frowned, gently kneading my thighs with his massive hands. I groaned at the sensation. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” I said on another laugh. “It was the best night fucking of my life.”
“Do you mean it was the best fucking night of your life?”
“That, too.”
He chuckled, hands moving to massage the insides of my thighs as I winced. “How are you… internally?”
I peeked an eye open, smirking at him as he continued his massage. “Is that your way of asking if my asshole is okay?”
He grinned.
“I’m fine,” I said, resting in the pillows again. I pointed to my calf to tell him where to touch me next.
“Still think it was hot?”
My neck burned. “Yes.”
“Want to do it again?”
“Right now? Absolutely not.” I opened my eyes to meet his. “But, yes.”
His chest swelled with his next breath, like he was restraining himself, like he owned me and just remembered how proud he was of that fact. I felt like a trophy, like a million-dollar car in his garage that he couldn’t wait to drive down Bayshore Boulevard.
For a while, Vince worked my sore muscles as we listened to the morning sounds of the city waking up outside the windows. Eventually he rolled me onto my stomach, massaging my legs and ass and moving up to my lower back.
The more the silence stretched between us, the more my brain raced.
Last night had been hot. It had been… life-altering. That was the kind of sex a woman dreamed about, knowing deep down it would likely never actually happen. Maybe in the movies. Maybe in books. But never, ever in real life.
Still, I could close my eyes and see the girl grinding on Vince’s lap, the ones that sandwiched him between them in the bar after that first home win I’d witnessed. He was drowning in pussy. Right now, mine had his attention, but I knew this thing between us was a fleeting one, a snapshot in time.
Part of me wanted to run.
It was the loudest part of me, if I was being honest — the one that knew I’d end up hurt at the end of all of this. Vince lived a different life than I did. He was surrounded by riches — literally — and the attention of the entire world. Everyone wanted a piece of him.
I was just the one who had his focus at the moment.
My heart picked up its pace at another thought — my job. I’d just landed this extension, proving to Reya and Camilla that I was serious about elevating our brand to the next level. I wanted my own segment. I wanted to showcase community heroes, to use our followers and my reputation in Tampa for good when this was all over.
I didn’t want anyone, least of all my bosses, to think I was losing control of the situation.
Control.
The word struck me like a lightning bolt.
That was what I needed in this moment.
I knew it all would end, eventually. We would crash and burn, just like every passionate romance does.
But maybe I could avoid being hurt if I was the one driving the car.
“So,” I said when he moved to my upper back.
“So?”
“Should we talk about this?”
“About me massaging you and trying not to have a boner?”
I chuckled. “No, I mean… this. Us.” I swallowed, rolling until Vince climbed off of me. I sat up in bed, folding my legs beneath me as he crooked a sleepy smile.
“What about us?”
“Well,” I said, reaching up to fidget with the silk wrap around my hair. “Obviously, we have chemistry. We enjoy each other’s company.”
He cocked a brow.
“I think… we should keep seeing each other.” I swallowed, lifting my eyes to his. “Friends, with perks.”
I tried to read his expression then, because it changed — just slightly. He still wore a little smile, but it didn’t feel quite as genuine.
“I just mean, we have fun, we… we can keep it that way. No expectations, no promises for more. Just… sex.”
“Just sex,” he echoed.
Again, I couldn’t read him.
But he almost looked… relieved.
It made sense. Maybe he was already thinking this, listening to me fumble for words while in his head he’s like, “Well, yeah, duh.”
“I still want what we talked about last night, though,” I clarified. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t want you to have sex with anyone else. And I won’t either.”
“Damn fucking straight, you won’t.”
I arched a brow a little at his tone. “I just want us to be safe.”
Vince scratched the back of his neck, opening his mouth like he was going to say something, but I kept talking.
“I also think this is the best for both of us, professionally. I’m finally making a name for myself, Vince. I… I really enjoy what I do. And I don’t want to spoil this opportunity. I don’t want to be the punchline of a joke everyone in Tampa loves to tell.”
His brows folded together at that. “And you think being seen with me would make you the butt of a joke?”
I laughed. “I mean, honestly? Yes.” I reached for him when I said the word. “You should see the comments that are already rolling in after that photo you posted of us. Everyone knows you could never actually be serious about someone like me. They’re calling me names, saying I only got this job because you wanted in my pants, telling me to let them know when you’re done with me so they can have their turn.” I shook my head. “When this is all over, I’ll go back to work, back to my life that never crossed paths with yours. And you’ll go back to being Vince Cool, with your whole career ahead of you, and the whole world at your fingertips.”
I ignored the way my stomach somersaulted as I tried to play off the nonchalance of that assessment. Because I knew that also meant he’d move on to fucking someone else into oblivion, and to waking up next to them with bed hair and a sleepy smile I wished was only for me.
Vince watched me for a long moment before he blinked and pulled his hand away from mine. He stood, giving me a beautiful morning view of his backside before he ran a hand roughly through his hair.
For a small, microscopic moment, I let myself envision an alternate universe. I imagined him turning around and shaking his head, his jaw tight as he said, “Fuck no.” I imagined him wanting me for more than just sex, wondered what it would be like to be claimed by him, to be on his arm after every game, to watch him from the box where all the wives and girlfriends sat. The WAGs. Could I be one of them? Would he ever want me to be?
But I only let myself daydream for a moment before I exhaled the thought away.
I’d literally let the guy fuck my ass last night. That was the kind of sexual power he had.
I would be a fool to think he’d ever spend it only on me.
After what felt like forever, Vince turned to look at me, hanging his hands on his hips. He watched me for a long time, his eyes flicking between mine under furrowed brows.
“If that’s what you want,” he finally said.
My heart cracked.
I didn’t know what I expected. I was in control of the situation, just like I’d wanted to be. I was setting the ground rules, the terms.
But he didn’t even fight me on it, and I felt so silly for thinking that he might.
“It is,” I lied.
He nodded. “I can be your dirty little secret, Maven.”
I thought I saw a bit of sadness with those words, but a wicked smile spread on his face before I could fully catalog it. And there he was, right back to playful Vince, knowing he could have his fun with me and was completely off the hook for anything past that.
It was what every guy wanted, especially a world-renowned professional athlete like him.
The theme park without the roller coaster.
I tried to channel my best friend’s words, her idea that this could be fun. I wanted Vince, even if this was the only way I could have him. Because I knew if we didn’t draw lines in the sand now, I’d read too much into every look, every touch, every sweet word he whispered against my skin.
Vince Tanev was far too easy to fall in love with.
And I knew I wouldn’t survive it if I did.
Now, I had him wrangled back into a box. It wasn’t the same one I’d shoved him into after that first night we met, but it was a box nonetheless, one with solid walls and a lid I could shut and tape up when the time came.
But my heart squeezed painfully in my chest, because even being in control, I had a feeling I was already too far gone to come out of this unscathed.
“Now,” he said, climbing back into bed with me. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and looked at the screen before tossing it back face-down. “I have forty-five minutes before I have to be at practice.”
He kissed me, long and slow, his lips massaging mine as he settled between my legs. My core fired up at the feeling of him pressed against me, at his tongue dancing with mine.
“How about you sit this pretty pussy on my face,” he mused, reaching down to slip a hand between my legs. “And show off that lack of gag reflex you teased me with last night.”
“Is this your proposal to sixty-nine, Vince Tanev?”
He slid a fingertip inside me, and I bit my lip, rolling into the touch.
“Oh wait,” he said, withdrawing. “I forgot. You’re too sore. Maybe we should—”
Before he could finish that sentence, I kissed him silent, rolling until I was on top of him and crawling up to straddle that sexy scruff around his smile.
