Halftime Husband

by McCarthy, Erin

  She dropped her gaze and tapped on her phone screen. She put the phone to her ear. My phone rang on my desk. I glanced over, wondering if she wanted me to actually answer it. She pursed her lips, glancing in the same direction as I did.

  “Hello, Brandon, this is Dakota Tanner. Call me at your earliest convenience.” She ended the call and eyed me. “Was that discreet enough for you?”

  I nodded. I shifted past her and locked my office door. “I’m really happy to see you,” I said. “Even happier that you wanted to see me again.” Then I closed the space between us and traced my thumb over her bottom lip. “This is a very bad idea but I’m going to kiss you anyway.”

  And I did.

  Brandon hadn’t given me a fake. I was still wrapping my head around that fact when he locked his office door. Hello. He was wearing a royal blue suit, looking as commanding and impressive as he had the night we’d met, when he’d peeled off his jacket to put it over my shoulders.

  When he bent down and kissed me, I didn’t even hesitate. I kissed him back, raising my palms to press against his muscular chest. It was everything I remembered and more. This came paired with the knowledge that he had wanted me. The truth was clear in both his words and his expression.

  In his position, he could date or hook up with anyone he wanted. He was young-ish, good-looking, surrounded by professional athletes who were surrounded by beautiful women. He could be dating a New York socialite. Instead, he was here in his office kissing me and I was feeling it in every inch of my body.

  He wasn’t my boss, not in the truest sense, but sort of. I really didn’t want to be that girl. The one who casually bangs her boss with no thought to her own future. I was in a precarious position, but Brandon did such amazing things to me with his tongue, that it was hard to remember any of that.

  “You make me so fucking hard,” he murmured in my ear. He took my hand and put it over his cock.

  He was not lying. That was one hard cock. Very hard.

  I was suddenly very glad I had thought to wear a skirt.

  “You’re right. This is a bad idea,” I said, even as I yanked down his zipper.

  “A terrible idea.” Brandon’s hand went up my skirt. He groaned. “Dakota, you’re not wearing panties.”

  He said it like I shouldn’t be aware of it. Like he was giving me new information. I almost laughed.

  His big hand cupped my sex.

  “It makes me feel more powerful to not wear panties.” It did. It was psychological.

  “Damn. You’re trying to kill me.” Brandon kissed the side of my mouth at the same time as he sank a finger inside me.

  I groaned. “Who is killing who?”

  He immediately removed his finger and actually his whole hand from under my skirt. “Why did you stop?” I asked, disappointed.

  “Back up,” he said urgently.

  “What?” I glanced behind me. Oh, the desk. He wanted me on the desk. There had definitely been worse ideas, but I wasn’t sure this was the smartest one either. Not that it would stop me. I didn’t exactly put up a protest other than another token, “This is very naughty.”

  Even as I backed up and peeled off my blazer. I tossed it on his boss chair. This was a boss office and he was a boss and I was about to take it from him on the desk and I was very ready.

  “It’s hot as hell, is what it is,” he said, as he put his hands on my hips. He lifted me up and set me on the edge of his desk. “Now there’s a fucking view,” he said.

  I glanced behind me at the football field. “It is a good view. You’re a very important man.”

  Then I realized he was looking at my inner thighs. My skirt had ridden up, giving him a glimpse of everything I had. I spread my legs, just a little. Might as well make it worth his while.

  He swore and ripped his jacket off, tossing it on the floor. He shifted between my legs. I reached for his cock with eager hands. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and retrieved a condom.

  After he rolled it on, he ran a finger down my cleavage. “This is an interesting shirt. It should look boring and professional because of the color and fabric but then it’s like it doesn’t close. It’s such a tease. Just open in the middle and makes me want to rip it open completely. Just yank it apart so I can see your tits.”

  “No one is stopping you,” I said, excited by the idea. I was already wet, but his words made me arch my back, in order to tempt him.

  Brandon’s eyes darkened and he reached out, running his fingers down the sides of my shirt, thumbs on my bare skin. Goosebumps rose on my flesh. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do but then he just tore my shirt in opposite directions, buttons flying, and fabric ripping.

  Wow. That was sexy. I sucked in a breath, totally turned on.

  “That’s so much better,” he said.

  He ran his knuckles over my nipples and I wished like hell I wasn’t wearing a bra. But I had been trying to be in control. Clearly not succeeding at that.

  Then without warning he lifted my leg and thrust his cock inside me.

  We both moaned and I grabbed his biceps for balance.

  Definitely not succeeding at being in control.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said, pausing for a second, his cock pulsing inside me. He reached up and loosened my ponytail holder, so he could run his fingers through my hair.

  It struck me as a ridiculous thing to say. He was lamenting the kiss when he’d ripped my shirt and his cock was deep inside me?

  “I’m definitely full of… regret right now.” I gave him a smile, enjoying the sensation of us joined, but wanting more. “How does the expression go? In for a penny…”

  “In for a pound.” Brandon started moving, setting a fast, hard rhythm.

  He took me literally.

  He pounded into me, one hand bracing himself on the desk, the other wrapped around my waist.

  “Oh, yes,” I said, holding on to him with a death grip as he took me so hard the entire desk was shifting on the floor.

  The noise actually turned me on even more.

  I came almost immediately around his thick cock, the sensation causing me to cry out without warning. Then I clamped my lips shut, aware of where we were, closing my eyes to feel the final waves of my orgasm roll over me. He pounded me harder and I clung to him, feeling a second orgasm building. It was mere seconds before my eyes were flying open and I was meeting his intense gaze.

  “I…” I said, with zero clue what I had actually been planning to say.

  “Did you just come?” he murmured.

  I nodded. He gave a final thrust and let himself explode. The desk moved again.

  We both blinked and stared at each other, breathing hard.

  “Holy shit,” Brandon said. He peeled himself off of me and shifted back, running his hand through his hair. “Best meeting I’ve ever had.”

  That made me giggle. “You’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”

  “Don’t call me that. Seriously.” He grinned. “I’ll feel like a bigger pervert than I already do. ‘Step into my office and close the door.’”

  “Oh, you look so full of remorse.” I tried to climb down off the desk. A sticky note was stuck to my ass. I turned and showed him. “I hope this note wasn’t important.”

  He laughed and pulled it off of me. “Just a notation from a phone call from my accountant. Not important.”

  “Your accountant’s been on my ass? That’s awkward.” I pulled my skirt down and attempted to smooth it. I felt a little wobbly.

  He removed the condom and I would have thought he would have tossed it into the wastebasket but he walked across the room and opened a door I had assumed was a closet. He disappeared into a bathroom.

  “You have a private bathroom?” I said, following him. “That’s amazing.”

  “I’ve worked my ass off to have a private bathroom,” he said. “I just never really pictured myself tossing a condom and washing my cock off in it.” He looked both amused and bewildered.
/>   My shirt was gaping open from where he had ripped it. I stood next to him as he washed his hands and pointed to my bra in the mirror. “You tore my shirt. I’m going to need safety pins to get out of here respectably. I just need a quick fix. The blazer will help.”

  He dried his hands and tucked and zipped. He adjusted his own shirt in his waistband. “I didn’t think that one through, did I? We have a merch room. Let me call my assistant and see if he can find you a T-shirt to wear.”

  “The woman who let me in here is going to notice I changed and she looks protective of you.”

  “I’ll send her to get me something, then we sneak you out. Easy.”

  “You’re very confident for a man who was moving furniture five minutes ago.” I undid my ponytail and smoothed my hair with my fingers. I put it back up, though it still looked messy. Hmm. I might have to switch to a bun.

  We left the bathroom and I retrieved my blazer and slipped into it while Brandon called his assistant.

  “It’s level urgent,” he said. “I need it in five or less.” As he ended the call, he shoved his desk back into position with his hip. “Can I unlock the door? You good?”

  “Sure.” I mean, I’d already had sex with him, what was worrying about it now going to do? “Why did you tell people I was meeting you today?”

  “I’m thanking you for arranging the cheerleaders’ outings to the children’s hospital.”

  I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh. “Oh, Brandon, that is just so… wrong.”

  “I know. But I do appreciate your volunteer efforts.”

  I held my hand out. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

  We were both laughing, slightly high on happy orgasm hormones. “I thought it was a good cover. I needed to ask you why you never texted me.” He put his hands on my waist and hauled me against him. “I’m damn glad I did.”

  He kissed me and I sighed against him. “You have my number now.”

  There was a knock on the door. He’d never gotten around to actually unlocking it. He went over and let in a guy who was around my age, short, thin, his expression curious.

  Brandon introduced us. Carson handed me a T-shirt.

  “I think it should fit. Based on your photo,” Carson said, his voice tinged with just a hint of amusement.

  That made me raise my eyebrows. So Carson was Brandon’s little co-conspirator for this meeting. He was probably the one who had figured out who I was and my role with the hospital drop-ins. He had left me the voicemail but I had just assumed he was in the dark about my true relationship with Brandon. Given his tone, he knew enough.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking the shirt from him and unfolding it in front of me. It was the team logo and was a female cut with cap sleeves. “It looks perfect.” I gave him a smile and met his gaze directly. “Don’t you just hate it when you lose a button?”

  He nodded. “It’s the worst.” His expression was impassive.

  I turned and went into the bathroom to change, feeling ridiculously pleased with the way my afternoon had turned out.

  Sure, I was still being evicted. Yes, I had no job or money. And Coach Teri had told me I was only cheering until the injured Tasha returned in two weeks.

  But… Brandon hadn’t ghosted me.

  It was a win.

  Chapter Eight

  I watched Dakota retreat into the bathroom like nothing about this was insane. She had delivered that bullshit line to Carson about losing a button without blinking.

  “Is this where you say ‘I fucked a cheerleader’ again?” Carson asked. “I’ve missed that.”

  “Shut up,” I said. “And make sure that trash in there gets thrown out.” I should have flushed the condom, in retrospect. I wasn’t used to having sex at work.

  He looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh. “Got it. Oh, and your daughters are here,” he added. “They’re downstairs.”

  “What?” I almost had a heart attack. I glanced toward my bathroom door where Dakota was changing her shirt. This was not good. “They’re supposed to be in the city with their nanny. How in the hell can they be here?”

  “The nanny brought them and she’s demanding to see you.”

  Jesus. “Tell her I’ll meet them downstairs. Do not let them come up here.”

  The door to my office burst open. Mary, the nanny, barged in with the force of a raging bull. Pam was behind her, flustered. “I told her you’re busy, sir, but she pushed past me.”

  Willow and Poppy wandered in behind them. Willow looked annoyed, Poppy nonchalant. “What is going on here?” I asked, glancing toward the bathroom door again. I made eye contact with Carson and tilted my head in that direction.

  He shrugged like he didn’t understand what he was supposed to do about it. I wanted him to meet Dakota the second she came out, so she didn’t throw open the door and announce something sexual. I also was panicked that the room might smell like sex but Mary didn’t break stride.

  She marched up to me and pointed a short finger in my face. “Your daughters are incorrigible.”

  That was nothing new. I decided to play offense. “Why are you here?” I asked. “You can’t just drop into my office like this. This is unacceptable.”

  “I am here to inform you I quit.”

  “This couldn’t have waited until I got home?” I asked, annoyed, and not at all shocked she was quitting. But I still have several hours of work to do. My meeting with Dakota had run longer than I had expected for obvious and sexy reasons. I couldn’t have the girls hanging around for two hours.

  “No, this could not wait. That should tell you something. I did not want to spend another minute in that apartment with them, so I drove all the way to New Jersey!”

  She said it like New Jersey was cross country instead of across a bridge. “Fine,” I said. “I’m assuming you got your things out of the apartment already? I’ll take the key.” I held my hand up, not willing to fight it. Mary was kind of a grump anyway. I hadn’t been totally comfortable with her in the house.

  But I was running out of nanny options.

  “Aren’t you going to ask what these sinners did?” she asked. She slapped a key in my hand.

  Sinners? That seemed extreme. They were still just kids. “What did they do?” I asked, dreading the response.

  “They’re dabbling in the dark arts.” She made the sign of the cross. “They are messing with a power that cannot be controlled.”

  I didn’t even know what the hell she was talking about. “Thanks, I’ll make sure you get your last paycheck.”

  The bathroom door opened and Dakota came out. She clearly had heard all the voices because she looked intrigued. “Hi. Sorry to interrupt.”

  Mary turned and stormed out of my office.

  “Who are you?” Poppy asked. “Dad, who is this?”

  Dakota was wearing the team T-shirt Carson had brought her, with the blazer over top of it, and it actually looked okay. Kind of franchise cool. She’d fixed her hair and didn’t look like ten minutes earlier she had been spread out on my desk.

  “This is Dakota. Dakota, these are my daughters, Willow and Poppy.” I pointed out which was which, clearing my throat, and trying not to look guilty.

  “Nice to meet you both,” she said. She gave them a smile.

  “Do you have a job here?” Poppy asked.

  I couldn’t tell what was going on in my daughter’s head. But then again, that’s how it was with Poppy the majority of the time. Was she suspicious? I had no idea. But she was eight. What would she be suspicious of?

  “Sort of. I’m a team cheerleader part-time.”

  “That’s so cool,” Willow said.

  “I also help with the cheerleaders’ charity events, but that’s a volunteer thing. I’m looking for another paying job but so far I can’t find one. I’m a dancer. An unemployed dancer.”

  The long-winded explanation made me realize Dakota was just as rattled by this unexpected encounter as I was, even though she looked outwardly co
mposed. She was overexplaining herself to children.

  “A ballet dancer?” Poppy asked.

  Dakota shook her head. “No. I’m too tall for ballet. And my boobs are too big.”

  I coughed. I could attest to that fact but I wasn’t sure I wanted it discussed in front of my kids.

  “I do hip hop, modern, jazz.”

  “Dakota has been in music videos,” I said, to get my thoughts off Dakota’s chest. And her everything else.

  “What?” Willow gasped. “That’s, like, so amazing. I wish I could dance.”

  “Do you take classes?” Dakota asked, looking more and more comfortable. She put her hands in the pockets of her blazer and stood with her legs slightly apart.

  It did nothing for my self-control and sanity.

  “No.” Willow shot me a dirty look.

  I laughed. “Why are you looking at me like that? When have you ever asked to take dance classes and when have I ever told you no for anything?” Which might explain why Mary, the nanny, thought my kids were the devil. “By the way, what did you two do to Mary? Dabbling in the black arts?”

  “I don’t even know what that is,” Willow said. “She’s mad because I got a deck of tarot cards. All the girls have them.”

  Tarot was the new denim jacket? Whatever. “That’s it?”

  “Oh, I’m making a bomb,” Poppy said. “But it’s a small bomb. More like a burp. It’s not like this.” She threw her arms up high and all around her. “Kaboom. It’s more like this.” She put her hands together and made a mouth. “Boop.”

  Jesus. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. No bomb making, Poppy. We’ve talked about this. You could get seriously hurt. And the FBI is going to storm our apartment if you don’t knock it off. Now go sit down over there.” I pointed to the chair in the corner. “I don’t even know how the hell I’m going to find another nanny if you insist on being the Minibomber.” The thought of all of it gave me heartburn.