Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)

by R.S. Grey

“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 th
e 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.

  He didn’t wait for me to recover before he continued his relentless thrusts. I whimpered, sensitive and over stimulated, but Erik’s thumb brushed across my clit, barely there at first. My hips reacted on their own, lifting to meet his touch as he circled his thumb around and around.

  He didn’t have to tell me to come again; he was forcing it out of me like my body was made for his touch. Our bodies slapped together, sweat making our skin slick and smooth. He was fucking me with full abandon.

  He brushed across my sensitive bundle of nerves as he slid in and out of me. My brain was nearly short-circuiting, trying to cling to every wave of pleasure while Erik fucked me. His sounds were dark and carnal, long moans ripping from his chest.

  My second orgasm came quicker and it was sharper, taking me to an even loftier high. I gripped the back of his neck and cried out, losing my last grip of humanity. I was wild beneath him, arching my back and biting down on his shoulder.

  He yanked out of me, pumping his cock in his hand so he could come on my stomach. I could have come for a third time watching him break apart over me. His brows scrunched together, his eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth fell open with moans. It was the sexiest, most powerful thing I’d ever experienced, bringing Erik to his knees over me. He looked wracked with desire. After he’d gathered himself with two heavy inhales, he flicked his eyes open and saw me smirking up at him like I’d won.

  “You’re not leaving this room,” he said as he pushed off the bed and moved to the bathroom.

  “Why would I?”

  “You’re good at running when you get scared,” he called from behind the closed door.

  I nibbled on my bottom lip, contemplating his statement. Maybe in the past I’d pushed him away, but I had no urge to do it again. Even if he does have an uncanny ability to piss me off.

  He brought a washcloth out and ran it over my stomach before reaching for my hand and pulling me into the bathroom. We showered together, lathering each other up and lazing under the faucet, letting the water pound down our backs. I stayed close to him, keeping our skin flush. His body warmed me more than the water and I was reluctant to let him go, even when he stepped out to hand me a towel.

  After I finished drying off, he led me to the sink and reached for the packet of Neosporin so he could pick up where he’d left off an hour earlier. I’d forgotten all about my knee, but if he wanted to take care of it, I wouldn’t argue. I adjusted my towel, giving him better access to my knee as he bent down in front of me. His damp hair dripped down his forehead, streaking water across his tan skin. I brushed a few strands away just as he reached forward to clutch my calf. His touch was deceptively gentle and when he glanced up and saw me watching him, I knew he could sense my suspicion.

  “I’m not always the monster you make me out to be,” he noted with a sly smile.

  I arched a brow in disbelief.

  “Just most of the time,” I quipped.

  He shook his head, amused, and stood to tug me back into the bedroom. My body was nearly asleep even before I fell onto the messy bed. I slipped under the covers and pulled them up to my chin.

  “You know, there are still things we should talk about,” I whispered, though they didn’t seem so important then, and even if I tried, I knew I wouldn’t be able to recall a single thing.

  “There’s plenty of time for that,” Erik assured me, drawing me in close to him. “But that discussion is for the light of day, with clear heads. When you need to clear your head, you bake, but this…this is what I do.”

  I wanted to argue, to tell him I was leaving first thing in the morning, but then his lips were on the back of my neck and his hands were on me, and we fell into each other once more.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Brie

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of Erik’s muted voice. I blinked my eyes open, trying to place him in the room, but when I rolled over, I realized he’d shut himself behind the door of the bathroom.

  “Yeah, Bryce, I need you to continue to maintain the gym for a few more weeks, until I get things settled in Texas.”

  What?

  I scooted closer to the edge of the bed so I could hear the next part of the conversation easier.

  “You’ve done a good job steering the ship while I’ve been away. I think you should start looking into hiring two new coaches to help take over my classes, but when I return to Seattle, we’ll figure out a more permanent solution.”

  Permanent.

  My stomach dropped and my brain focused on that word like it was a bomb. I pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes. It was still early—a quick glance at the clock on his bedside table proved it—but I only had a few hours before my flight. I needed to get a move on, head back to my condo to pack my things and say my goodbyes, but I sat frozen on his bed, trying to piece together what I’d just heard on the phone.

  Erik was putting his assistant coach in charge of Seattle Flyers.

  He wasn’t going back to Seattle.

  I shook my head. Just because he was coming to Texas, didn’t mean…

  The bathroom door whipped open and Erik stepped out, pausing in the doorframe when he saw me sitting on the edge of the bed. He’d showered and dressed for the day. His lips parted in a sweet smile and I focused there for a few seconds, trying to work up the nerve to meet his eyes.

  “Hi,” I croaked with a dry throat. I cleared it and tried again. “Morning.”

  He pushed off the doorframe and padded toward me. His body wash permeated the humid air and I inhaled deeply as he bent low to press his mouth to mine. It was a good-morning kiss, gentle and chaste, but his breath was minty fresh and his touch hinted that I could have more if I wanted it.

  “You’ve been awake for a while?” I asked, peering up at him from beneath my lashes and trying hard to resist the urge to touch my face or hair. All signs were pointing to level 10 bedhead, but he’d alrea
dy seen me, so there was no point in trying to convince him I ever woke up looking like a radiant goddess.

  “Two hours or so.” He shrugged. “Owning a business doesn’t stop just for the Olympics. There were a few things I needed to take care of and…” He dragged his hands through his hair, moving the damp strands so I had an unhindered view of his face. He was breathtaking. “I needed to go collect your things from your condo and finish packing myself.”

  My breath hitched. “You got my luggage? My stuff?”

  He nodded and dropped his phone on the bedside table. “We need to leave here in an hour and I didn’t want us to be late for our flight.”

  I pinched my eyes closed and shook my head. In my half-conscious state, his words weren’t making sense. Why was he talking as if he was coming with me?

  “You just said ‘our flight’ instead of ‘your flight’.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes. We’re on the same one.”

  “To Texas?”

  He grinned, excited. “To Texas.”

  I knew he was presenting a gift to me, a surprise. I could tell by the softness in his eyes and the gentle tug of his lips he assumed I would be excited by his announcement, but I couldn’t push past the panic mounting inside me. He spoke as if he was laying out plans for our breakfast, not cross-country moves.

  I shook my head and stood up, starting to pace the small bedroom. “You’re coming to Texas today? For, uh…”

  I turned back to him, hopeful. If he had plans there for business or something, then I could breathe again. It wouldn’t be all about me, us.

  He sighed and propped his hands on his waist, watching me take long strides across the room.

  “I’m going for a few reasons, you being the main one.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Brie, sit down.”

  My pace had picked up without me realizing it. I looked like the Tasmanian Devil flitting around the room at a hundred miles per hour. Erik is coming to Texas. Erik is coming to Texas with me.

  Since when?!