Page 5

She nods. “I am.”

“Well, I’m not sure whether to be scared of you or flattered.”

“Maybe a little of both.”

“Fair enough,” I say. “So, what has you stalking me?”

“I’m writing up a piece on the team,” she says. “I talked to some of your players today, and now I’d like to ask you a few questions. If you have the time.”

If I were smart, I’d tell her I don’t have time and need to go. But as I look into those bottomless blue eyes and feel the heat coursing through my body, I know I’m not very smart. I’m a weak man who’s letting my cock do all my thinking for me.

“Let me just go grab a cup of coffee,” I tell her.

“Of course,” she coos. “I’ll be here waiting.”

Something in her voice fans those flames inside me, the desire I feel blooming into a raging bonfire. Gritting my teeth, I walkover to the coffee shop and pick up our drinks then make my way back to the table and set them down.

“Thought you could use a refill,” I say as I take my seat.

“That’s sweet,” she says. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you sure I’m not keeping you from anything?”

Other than going home and jerking off in the shower to my fantasies about you, definitely not. The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but I manage to swallow them down.

“No, I’m good,” I tell her. “Always happy to get some publicity for my team.”

“Great,” she replies. “Thank you for giving me a few minutes.”

Morgan launches into her list of questions, and I answer as best I can. I’m distracted by her, so I’m having trouble keeping my thoughts focused on the interview. I’m paying attention to know that she’s very polished and very professional. Knowing her ultimate goal is to be an on-air sports reporter, I’d say she’s well on her way. Her questions aren’t gimmes. They’re not softballs. They’re provocative and probing. She’s insightful.

Unfortunately for her, I’m not a great interviewee on my best days. I’m a gym rat, more focused on the Xs and Os than I am on being a polished persona. It’s made even worse today by the fact that I can’t stop staring at her. She has the longest legs I’ve ever seen on somebody who’s five-two at most. They’re toned, golden brown, and shapely. My eyes trace them all the way up to where they disappear beneath her skirt, and I can’t stop wanting a look underneath it.

Her breasts are full and round and strain against the top of her sundress, revealing a delicious amount of cleavage. The tops of her breasts are enticingly creamy and white, in contrast to the golden brown of the rest of her body, and I catch myself fantasizing about getting her out of that sundress and taking a good, long look at her tan lines, imagining running the tips of my fingers over them first, quickly followed by my tongue.

“Are you all right, Coach?”

I raise my gaze to hers and offer her a small smile. Judging by the look on her face, I’m sure she knows what was going through my head. She bites her bottom lip as a shy expression crosses her features. She quickly turns away. But I get the sense Morgan isn’t displeased by the thoughts I’m having about her. If anything, she looks excited by them.

I shouldn’t let her encourage me. Shouldn’t let myself be tempted by her. She is, after all, forbidden fruit. If I ever gave in and Kelsey found out, it wouldn’t be good. My daughter is my world, and I can’t do anything to hurt her. Breaking her heart would absolutely shatter mine. It would be a pain I couldn’t bear.

I clear my throat. “So, did you have any more questions? Or are we done here?”

“Done with me so soon?” she asks with a flirtatious lilt in her voice.

“I just … I have some things I need to do tonight,” I lie.

She frowns, disappointed. I would much rather take her home with me and spend the night playing out every filthy fantasy I’ve ever had. But I force myself to think of Kelsey and how she would react. Honestly, it’s not wanting to see that look ofdisappointment on her face that keeps me from inviting Morgan back to the house. Instead, I get to my feet.

“I should get going,” I say.

“Well, thanks for your time, Mr. Hooper.”

I smile gently. “When are you going to call me Mack? Or if nothing else, then just call me Marcus. We’re all adults here now, Morgan.”

Her smile is radiant, her eyes sparkling. “It just feels strange. You’ve always been Mr. Hooper to me, you know?”