Play Along(116)

“Remind me again what you didn’t like about these tits.” He tests the weight, his thumb circling my peaked nipple.

“They’re small.”

“Hmm.” Crouching for just a moment, he slides two fingers against my sensitive pussy, gathering my cum. “And why do you think that?”

Because I was constantly told so.

But I don’t dare say his name while kneeling in front of the man I’m married to, still riding the post-orgasm high.

“You’re not going to tell me?” he asks as he stands, using my cum to paint my chest. He admires it as if he just created the next artistic masterpiece. “That’s fine. I have no problem proving you wrong. Now push those pretty tits together.”

Once again, I do as he says and when he steps forward, he slips his cock under my breasts, and thrusts upward into the tight channel.

Holy shit.

A bead of precum tempts me to lick it, each and every time his tip slips through my hold.

“Fuck, this is going to be quick.”

I’ve never seen anything like him. So unhinged, so wildly desperate as he watches the way he slides between me.

“Do you want me to turn you around?” he asks through hard-earned breaths. “You’re missing the show.”

With my back to the pier, I look up and say, “This is the only show I want to watch right now.”

“God,” he exhales, palm sliding over my head. “The best girl.”

“Your only girl,” I correct him.

“Damn straight you are.”

Shoulders back and putting myself on full display, I let him fuck me.

It’s hot. It’s so fucking hot to the point where I don’t see how it’s possible for me to ever be insecure about my tits again. Anytime I question myself, I’ll remember the way his cock throbbed against them, the way he gritted his teeth just before he came. The way he moaned my name as hot white ropes decorated my neck and chin.

His jerky thrusts still, his cock twitching as he comes. And the sound he makes, God I’ll never forget that deep, guttural groan.

Arms crossed over the glass, Isaiah drops his head on his forearms, chest heaving as he towers over me.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he breathes against the window, eyes peering down at me.

Holding eye contact, I gather his cum from my neck and bring it down to circle my nipple, rubbing myself as he watches with hungry brown eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Kenny. I swear if I wasn’t already, I’d fucking marry you.”

I tuck my lip between my teeth in a smile. “That makes two of us.”





Chapter 33


Isaiah


“If it’s still hurting you tonight, I can rub it out later.”

My brows quirk with interest as I sit upright on the training table.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Rhodes.” Kennedy stands between my open legs, wrapping the plastic wrap diagonally across my torso to keep the ice pack secured. “If your shoulder is still bothering you when you get home, I can come over and work on it before bed.”

“And what about if my dick is still hurting when I get home?”

“You’ve got two hands.”

Mouth popping open, I wrap my hand around the back of her thigh and pull her closer.

“We get it,” Monty grumps. “You’re into each other. What happened to keeping it professional at work?”

“Clearly they’re not great at following that rule.” Reese walks into the training room, high heels and pencil skirt in full force today. “Emmett, I need to speak to you in your office, please.”

She walks right past him, into his office, blonde hair bouncing with each step. Monty stands there, arms crossed over his chest as if he has the option not to follow her. He takes a deep breath through his nose before remembering he wants to keep his job, and follows her into his office, closing the door behind him.

“What’s that about?” Kennedy asks.

“I’m not sure, but he’s been in a shit mood lately. Said that Reese has been constantly reminding him that he’s up for contract renewal next year.”

“They wouldn’t get rid of Monty. Your guys’ record since he became the field manager is good. Great even. And everyone loves him.”

“Everyone besides her, and starting next year, her opinion is the only one that’s going to matter.”

Kennedy puts the plastic wrap roller away, a small smile tilting on her lips as she does.

“You’re excited about that, huh?”

“Not about her not liking Monty, but I am looking forward to her taking over. If we’re looking at the positives here, I get to work for the first ever female team owner in the MLB.”

And she was supposed to be the first female team doctor.

There’s that contradicting feeling again. Yes, Kennedy is staying here. We get to keep doing what we’re doing, but the person I love lost an opportunity she’s waited for her entire adult life.

“Rhodes,” Sanderson, the other athletic trainer, calls out. “Someone is out in the hallway to see you.”

I look back to Kennedy in confusion.

“Who is it?” she asks for me.

“It’s uh . . .” Sanderson hesitates. “Dean Cartwright.”