Page 42 of Tough Score

His lips suction around me while his tongue playfully flicks and licks my needy nub until I'm melting into him.

"I'm so close," I pant, begging him with my hips to increase the tempo. "Faster, Reeve, please don't stop."

Reeve doubles his efforts, thrusting his hips up to meet my strokes. But then I hear his grunts of pain. "Reeve, stop! Your knee," I beg, but he doesn't stop; he only increases his rhythm. The coil of pleasure in my belly snaps and I come careening back to earth, my walls fluttering and pulsating around Reeve's cock.

"That's it, Keely," Reeve praises, continuing to stroke me through my orgasm. "You're so perfect."

A few more hard thrusts and Reeve is coming too, spilling himself deep inside me with a guttural moan. I collapse against his chest, both of us gasping for breath.

"That was..." Reeve starts but can't find the words.

"Pain relieving?" I tease.

"The results were inconclusive. Looks like we'll have to try again."

"Too bad we already agreed to one time," I say, though I wish there was a chance for more.

I push up off his chest and move to the edge of the bed, reaching down to grab my shirt and pull it on.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To set up the couch for tonight."

"You said that you would stay with me until I fell asleep."

"That's true, I did.

He holds open his arms and I lay back down

Hours after we both fall asleep, I wake and realize that I'm getting too comfortable with Reeve. It's time for a little distance, even if it's the last thing I want.

Chapter Thirteen

Reeve

A text chimes on my phone and though I always want it to be Keely, I know it won't be since she's at the bar doing inventory with Oakley.

Seven: Gym?

A man of few words.

Reeve: Sure sounds good. When?

Seven: 15

I'm guessing he means in 15 minutes, but if he means 15 hours... I'll still be doing nothing and available to go.

Reeve: I'll be ready.

Getting out of this apartment and into the stadium is just what I need today. Sam and Coach Bex imposed a one-week hiatus for me to ensure that I would take it easy and heal up, but now I just want to get back to work.

It's been almost a week since Keely fell asleep in my arms after the night we had sex, but by the time I woke in the morning, she was up making breakfast, and I found a blanket and a pillow on the couch. While I was out cold, she moved like she said that she would. We didn't discuss it and I pretended not to notice.

Now, I'm sitting on the couch, my leg propped up on pillows, flipping through channels on the TV—Seven's text couldn't have come at a better time.

The apartment feels different now—in a good way. There's a routine emerging, one that revolves around Keely's visits.

Every morning, she comes over to make breakfast. At first, I tried to insist I could manage on my own, but there's something comforting about her presence in my kitchen, the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of her humming softly as she cooks.