Grinder (Seattle Sharks 1)

It was that my dick wouldn’t listen to my head. It wanted Bailey and only Bailey, and it let me know that every single time she walked into the room.

“Hey, Gage,” she said as I hung my keys up in the mud room. “How was practice?” She had a laundry basket perched on her hip and a light sheen of sweat clung to her collarbone. Had she been running? Working out?

“Long,” I answered, dropping my bag.

“You ready for the game tomorrow?” She walked past me into the laundry room, her ponytail swishing. She hadn’t so much as looked me in the eye since my lick-the-chocolate-off-your-skin moment last week. Not that I blamed her. I was the king of mixed signals.

“Uh-huh,” I grunted, all of my blood draining from my head to my dick at the sight of her shapely ass in those running pants.

“Good,” she called from the room. “Lettie’s down for a nap. We took a little hike and she got tuckered out.”

“Okay,” I answered, thanking God there was a door between us, even if it was half-open.

“Do you need me to throw anything into the wash?”

“No, but thanks. You don’t have to take care of me,” I told her again, knowing she’d just do it anyway.

“I don’t—” Her voice was muffled as she started the dryer.

“What?” I asked, but her reply was lost in the tumble. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you,” I said as I opened the door to the laundry room.

“I said that it doesn’t bother me to take care of you,” she answered louder, facing the washing machine.

I should have left, but my feet were nailed to the floor and my jaw landed next to them as she peeled her running tank up over the smooth skin of her back and then over her head, leaving her in just a sports bra and those pants.

DamnIwannatastealltheskin.

Great. She’d broken my brain.

She tossed the shirt in the washer and shut the door, the sound bringing me out of the fantasy where I’d already stripped the rest of her clothes off.

Allthewaytonaked.

I shook my head. Fuck my life, even my thoughts were jumbled.

“Right, sorry,” I said. I could not spy on my nanny like a thirteen-year-old with a hard-on.

Because you’re twenty-seven with a hard-on.

Bailey jumped, startled and then laughed. “God, Gage. You scared the crap out of me.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

She turned, leaning against the washer. “You already said that.”

I had to peel my eyes off the bare skin of her stomach. She was toned, but still curved, soft in all the places I ached to get my hands on.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and I finally met her eyes, skipping over the tight press of her breasts against the hot pink sports bra.

“Nothing,” I answered. After all, it shouldn’t matter that she was in workout clothes, right? I saw women every day at the gym with less on than Bailey was wearing right now.

But none of them affect you like this.

“Gage?” she asked, her voice a little breathy. Did she realize what was going on in my head? Her breasts rose and fell a little faster, which told me she knew something was up.

Fuck, I wanted to kiss her, to run my hands up the sides of her stomach and see if her skin was as touchable as it looked. I wanted to taste her mouth, sink my hands into her hair, and bury myself so deep in her that I’d never find my way out.

“Gage?” she repeated, her eyes darkening.

“Tell me no,” I begged.

Her lips parted. “You’re the one who said this wasn’t a good idea.”

“I know what I fucking said, Bailey. I need you to tell me no.” It took every ounce of willpower to stand immobile when my body was raging.

The tension thickened as she glanced away, and then back to me. “I don’t want to tell you no,” she admitted softly.

“Bailey,” I warned.

“I want to know what it’s like to kiss you, even if it’s only this once.”

Only this once.

Once was brilliant. Once was just right, just to get her out of my system, to kill the mystery.

I crossed the small distance between us, took her face between my hands and slanted my mouth over hers.

Fuck, she was sweet. Her mouth opened for me, and I plunged inside, stroking her tongue with mine, exploring every single inch I could with quick sweeps and longer thrusts. She tasted like berries from the workout water she loved.

Once will never be enough.

She kissed me back and nearly brought me to my knees. Every moan pushed me higher, and when her fists tangled in my shirt, pulling me closer, I snapped.

My hands skimmed the soft skin of her sides. I was wrong before—her skin wasn’t just soft and touchable, it was silk, hot and vibrant under my fingers.

She whimpered when I grabbed her ass, fulfilling my fantasy, and arched up against me. That sound broke me like nothing else could. Fuck, she was everything I’d dreamed, and then some. I lifted her by her ass and she wrapped those perfect legs around my waist.

Her back hit the washer as I leaned against her, one hand coming back up to cradle her face. While my hands were tender, my dick wasn’t—grinding against the seam of her pants until she gasped my name.

I swallowed the sound and went back to her mouth, kissing her harder and deeper every time she rolled her hips back against me. She fit perfectly with me, moved just right, tasted like heaven, and drove me utterly mad.

I had to stop this before it got out of hand.

Or out of your pants.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, and she bit my lip gently when I pulled back. Then she yanked my head to hers and kissed me for everything she was worth. Her tiny flame of a tongue slid into my mouth, leaving me groaning, desperate to get inside this woman and fuck her until I couldn’t remember why I’d ever thought it was a bad idea.

Everything about this was right and hotter than hell.

My dick screamed at me, cursing the miniscule barriers between us, and I had to agree that it had a point. My fingers slid along her ass toward the seam between her thighs, the warmth of her pussy radiating through the thin material.

She moaned my name, rocked against my hand, and I thought of every unsexy thing I could to keep from coming in my pants.

“Bailey? Daddy?” Lettie’s voice was faint but clear, and as effective as a giant bucket of ice water.

“I’ll be right there, honey” I answered, leaning my head against Bailey’s forehead as we both struggled to calm our breathing.