The Summer Games: Out of Bounds (34 page)

Chapter Forty-One

Brie

As I stepped
closer, I glanced down his body, taking him in, not as my coach—not anymore—but as the man I was wholeheartedly in love with. His features were always sharp, severe—except his lips. They evened out his intensity, and they were currently unraveled in an expressive smirk. I glanced up to meet his eye, having been caught checking him out. He knew I was already under his spell and wasted no time in reaching out for me and wrapping his hand around my bicep to steady me.

“Have you had a few drinks?”

I swallowed, nervous.

“Yes, me and every Olympian currently on the planet.” I shrugged, feeling as though the world were tipping just a little to the left.

“Are you drunk?” he asked with a gentle tone.

I stared at his chest and swallowed. “No, but this would probably be easier if I was.” I laughed.

“What happened to your knee?” he asked, glancing down.

I’d forgotten about the injury, but when I glanced down and followed his gaze to the cut on my knee, the pain recaptured my attention.

“I tripped and skinned it,” I said, gently lifting up the hemline of my dress to get a better look.

He frowned and turned toward the security guard behind us. “I bet they have first aid kits around here.”

I shook my head; that’s not what I wanted.

“Take me back to your condo and I can clean it up there.”

His hand tightened on my bicep. “Brie…”

I squeezed my eyes closed and inhaled the sound of my name on his lips.
Brie
. I’d never get tired of the sound. I swayed with the weight of it and when I finally forced myself to meet his eyes again, they were narrowed and focused on me. My knees nearly buckled.

“Please,” I asked, feeling the word skim across my lips. “It hurts.”

He knew I wasn’t talking about the cut, and he didn’t wait for me to ask again. He kept hold of my bicep and led me out of the stadium, out toward one of the waiting cabs. In a few hours, the place would empty out all at once and the streets would turn into a giant party. For the time being, the sidewalks were quiet and the cabs were lined up, ready and waiting for the madness.

Erik guided me into the back seat of a cab and pulled me close to his side as we made the short drive back to his condo. I knew he’d been staying near me, but as they pulled up to a complex just three blocks down from ours, I sighed. He’d been so close the entire time. I could have walked to him any time I wanted.

There were things we needed to say to one another, but every time I opened my mouth to start, the words evaporated from my tongue. Erik could sense my unease, and even as he led me to the fourth floor and pushed open the door to the studio where he’d stayed for the last few weeks, he didn’t let go of me.

He pulled me into the bathroom and propped me up on the counter. I watched him move around the small space, so smooth and confident. There was a small first aid kit stuffed below the sink; he unzipped it and laid out the contents on the counter beside me.

He looked back to me and I blushed, realizing I’d been following his every move for the last few minutes.
For the last few weeks, really.

“Let me see your knee,” he said, coming to stand in front of me.

The closing ceremonies dress, while modest, had ridden up once I took a seat on the counter. The pleated skirt fanned out around my hips, exposing most of my thighs, and Erik took full advantage as he stepped closer to inspect my knee. He cupped the back of my leg, propping it higher so he wouldn’t have to bend so far to see the cut. The act pushed my skirt a little higher and I moved to brush it back down, to cover the bottom of my panties, but Erik reached out and caught my hand before I could.

I blushed from head to toe, but he made no mention of what he’d done as he leaned out to wet a washcloth and dabbed away the dried blood on my knee. The cut was large but shallow, like the little scrapes you get as a child. Erik patted away the blood gently and then opened a small tube of Neosporin.

“Let me help,” I whispered, trying to take it from him.

I didn’t want him to fuss over my knee; I wanted him to press his lips to mine, to grip my neck in his hands, to whisper against the shell of my ear. It’d been too long since I’d come undone beneath him and my knee could wait. The pain was nothing compared to the heavy lust building inside me.

Erik’s hand tightened on the back of my thigh, holding my knee steady. My stomach quivered with the realization that he was only a few inches away from the center of my thighs. I could have leaned back and hiked both of my feet up onto the counter. My panties would do nothing to keep him from me.

“You’re not thinking of your knee are you?” he asked, glancing between my eyes and my lips.

They parted on another inhale and he narrowed his eyes, as if convincing himself of something.

Instead of answering, I let a fleeting moment of boldness take hold of me. I gripped the edge of my skirt and brushed it higher until it was bunched at my waist. I slid my thighs apart on the bathroom counter, knocking the contents of the first aid kit to the ground in the process. They clattered against the tile as I reached down to hook my fingers around my panties so I could drag them down my legs.

Erik pressed forward before I could get them down more than an inch. He gripped my wrists in his hands and yanked them away from my thighs so he could pin them above my head. With one hand, he pressed them against the cold glass of the bathroom mirror as his mouth crashed against mine. I leaned into him hungrily, letting him devour me as our tongues reunited. My moans were lost in his mouth as he tilted his head and took the kiss deeper, his smooth lips brushing against mine.

With his free hand, he widened my legs and pulled my hips to the edge of the counter so he could bring himself flush against me. His mouth was still on mine, kissing me with building intensity as his hardness brushed me. A million tiny fireworks fizzed through my body as he continued rolling his hips. In a matter of seconds, he’d unraveled me at the seams.

I needed our clothes gone so I could feel him, but he didn’t give in to my demands. He tortured me like that, keeping us apart as desire grew heavy inside me.

My fingers dug into the back of his hand as he held me against the glass; with his mouth on mine, it was the only way I could fight him, convince him to let me have what I needed. His hand on my thigh dug in deeper, nearly breaking my skin. I fought against him, rolling my hips to meet his, trying to overwhelm him into giving in, for both our sakes.

He groaned, though it sounded nearly like a growl, and tore away from me, taking his mouth and hips away until I had nothing left to anchor myself to the sink. I was falling forward, like a flower bending toward the sun, but he was so quick, bending low to his knees and holding me in place with his hands on my thighs.

His gaze locked with mine as he slowly pressed my legs apart until I was spread open on the counter for him. His mouth met the inside of my thigh. It was a featherlike kiss, more ticklish than anything else. I closed my eyes and moaned encouragingly, assuming he’d move his mouth higher and lick me until I came. Instead, his teeth sank into my thigh.
Hard
.

Asshole!

My body reacted as though I were being attacked. My eyes jerked open as I pushed him away, trying to get him off me. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Jesus!”

I glanced down to see the angry red teeth mark on my thigh. He’d bitten me
—hard
.

If I was looking for remorse from him, there wasn’t any. He yanked me off the counter, holding me around the waist as he walked me into his bedroom and tossed me onto his bed.

“Erik!” I shouted as my body bounced on the mattress. He was undressing, yanking the black shirt over his head and unzipping his jeans.

“You really are an asshole,” I said, smoothing a hand over the bite mark. It still hurt.

His jeans hit the floor and he kicked them aside.

“You’d better stay away from me,” I insisted halfheartedly.

He smirked. “No. I don’t think I will.”

“But I’m drunk, and you’re about to take advantage of me.”

He laughed. “You aren’t drunk, Brie.”

I moved up against the headboard and crossed my arms over my chest, more than annoyed with him. “Fine, then we need to talk about all of it then. You know, settle everything that’s happened between us.”

My attempts to pause his approach fell on deaf ears. He stalked toward me and for a brief moment, I let my gaze fall to his boxer briefs, to the erection straining beneath them. I lingered just long enough for him to notice and his smirk widened.

“Here, I’ll sum it up for us: you’re in love with me. You have been for a while.” I narrowed my eyes as he continued. “For the last few days, you’ve been playing a game, too scared to give in to your feelings.” I blushed at how accurate his assessment was. “Am I getting close?”

I shook my head forcefully. “No.”

He was over me then, caging my legs between his. His mouth hovered over my neck, brushing soft kisses down my skin as he worked at the buttons on my dress. Each one he undid exposed another patch of my bare skin. “Tell me then, what did I get wrong?”

“You left out the part about you being an unpredictable and selfish jerk.”

“Oh?”

His hand glided up my thigh, brushing across my panties and feeling the wetness I was now completely ashamed of. I didn’t want him feeling how turned on I was by his stupid antics.

“I don’t want to be thought of as selfish,” he said as he pulled my panties down my thighs, up over my knees before tossing them off the side of the bed. Any strength to get up and leave disappeared along with them. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“No, you aren’t.”

He smirked. “You’re right.”

He tried to move my arms so he could pull my dress up over my head, but I wouldn’t give in. Something in me wanted to fight him. He groaned, his patience for me nearly gone, and instead of trying to take off my dress, he took hold of my thighs and yanked me down so I lay flat on the bed. My arms were still crossed over my chest as he hiked my dress up over my stomach. I tried to move away, but he was faster, his weight pinning me so I couldn’t get away.

“Erik! What—”

The rest of my sentence was lost as his mouth fell between my thighs. There was no gentle lead-in, no soft approach. His tongue dragged across the very center of me, the part of me I desperately wanted to conceal from him. He licked from top to bottom, lapping me up like I was a dripping ice cream cone. I held in the moan trying to erupt from my chest as he moved lower and repeated the same movement, sucking and licking me as I fisted the sheets in my hands. He pinned my thighs down against the bed so that even if I’d wanted to move, to temper the sensations, I wouldn’t be able to—he was forcing me to feel it all. The silky texture of his tongue over my clit made my back arch off the bed.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

No. No. NO.

I wanted to encourage him to continue, to let him know he was hitting the exact right spot, but I wasn’t finished fighting him, and I knew he liked my resistance. It was more fun that way; the tug of war between us was the biggest turn-on of my life and I wouldn’t give that up just to stroke his ego. The man knew what he was doing; I didn’t need to confirm it for him.

I was getting so close to coming as small waves of pleasure spiraled through my body, making my thighs shake with the impending fall, but before I could get there, he pulled his mouth away. I grew angry in a matter of milliseconds. I was hot and impatient and I opened my mouth to growl at him, but then I caught sight of him tugging his cock out of his boxer briefs. He stroked himself up and down twice before settling above me.

Before, he’d always warmed me up with a finger or two, giving me time to accommodate his size. This time, he pressed his cock against me, running it up and down across my wetness until it was slick and ready. I wet my lips, trying to ease the desire burning through me.

He pressed the head inside me, just enough to make me cry out for more. Slowly, slowly he plunged in deeper, stretching me as my nails bit into his back.

“You’re the tightest thing I’ve ever felt.” He groaned against my ear as he buried himself to the hilt. I squeezed my eyes shut. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms wrapped around his neck, and my heels dug into his backside, forcing him to stay inside until my head stopped spinning. It was as if he were pricking every one of my nerve endings. Sensations came from every direction and when I tried to breathe, it was impossible. My lungs couldn’t inflate. He was too large, too much.

Just when I thought I’d cry from the intensity of it, he rolled his hips, hitting the top of my clit. My thighs released their hold on him and he started to move gently. He pulled out all the way and then pushed back inside painstakingly slowly. He repeated the torturous act over and over again and my orgasm ripped through me so fast I couldn’t form a coherent thought. I knew he could feel me come as I wrapped tight around him. I threw my head back and gripped the headboard behind me. My eyes squeezed shut and bright colors danced behind my lids. It was the longest orgasm of my life, dragging through me until I was weak from it, exhausted and prepared to die a happy woman, but Erik wasn’t done.