Page 18 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

“Well, it all starts to run together after a while. I’ve got a few friends outside the org, but I’ve grown really close to David and Shane these last few years. We just… click, you know?”

She nods, shifting slightly on the bench when I mention their names. She doesn’t know I know about her and David, but honestly, that doesn’t matter right now.

“I get that,” she says softly. “I love my best friend. I couldn’t imagine life without her.” She glances to the side, tucking her hair behind her ear, and I catch the sparkle in her lobe.

“I have to say… your earrings bring out the light in your eyes. Sapphire studs?”

She tilts her head up, smiling. “Yeah, thank you. My mom gave them to me, actually. I don’t really take them off.”

“They’re gorgeous,” I say, holding her gaze. “So… tell me something. All this tattoo talk earlier has got me curious. Do you have any tattoos of your own?”

A soft laugh slips out, and she shifts in her seat, a little flustered. “I… I don’t really have strong feelings either way.”

I grin, loving the way her voice wavers just a bit. A shy one? My favorite kind of challenge.

“So, I’m guessing that means you don’t have any?”

I’ve asked questions like these more times than I can count. Usually, the girl either flirts right back or gets a little huffy and indignant. But with Leighton? Hard to tell. She’s not giving me much to go on .

“I don’t,” she admits.

“But if you wanted to get some ink, where would it be?”

She arches a brow. “And how is that relevant?” Her tone is clipped and cool. But her body? More relaxed and leaning in just a little closer.

“It’s not. Not really. But humor me. Where would it be? And what would it be of?” I’m pushing my luck, and we both know it.

She doesn’t back off, though. Her voice drops just a bit. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m the one asking the questions here.”

“I didn’t forget, darlin’. I just thought I’d get to know you as much as you want to get to know me.” I reach over and gently remove the iPad from her hands, setting it down on the bench. “I can think of a few places a tattoo would look good on you.”

She smirks, eyes lowering for a beat before she glances up at me through her lashes, playful and, if I’m reading her right, a little daring. “I don’t know…”

My cock twitches again.

“Something small,” she murmurs. “Like a crescent moon. With a few stars.” Her fingers drift up and trace lightly over her breastbone. “Over my heart.”

I move closer, eyes locked on those fingers.

I remember how soft they felt when we shook hands earlier, and I can only imagine how they’d feel roaming all over my body.

Her nails are freshly manicured. And I’d bet good money she has a matching pedicure.

I’m not into feet like David, but hey, I can still appreciate a pretty set of toes.

Just like I can appreciate a perfect set of tits, and a plump, round ass.

“Over your heart, huh?” I ask, voice dropping. I reach over, trailing my fingers right where hers just were, brushing over her chest. “You mean right here?”

“Yes,” she breathes, the word gusty.

I feel bolder now.

“I think it’d look good there,” I murmur, sliding my touch lower, tracing the center of her cleavage. “Or even here…” My fingers move to her belly button. “And here.”

She grabs my hand, halting it, her breath shaky. “I don’t think this is supposed to happen during an interview.”

“And I never do this,” I say honestly. “But this? The way you’ve been looking at me? Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

I pull back, but she grabs my hand again and brings it up to her breasts. I cup them instantly, stroking my thumb over one nipple and feeling it harden through her top.

“Yes…” she gasps, her head falling back.

I scoot even closer, kneading gently, voice low against her neck.

And there it is. I inhale deeply. The scent of brown sugar curls up from her skin like a memory I never wanted to end—dark, buttery, and just a little dangerous.

It’s sweet, yes, but with a rawness beneath it, like caramel left on the heat too long, just seconds from burning.

It tempts without trying. I can’t place it, but fuck, I need it.

I need her. “You sure about this?” I ask.

She lifts her head, eyes meeting mine as she licks her lips. “Mmhmm.”

That’s all I need.

She’s so damn sexy. I take her hand and guide it down to the rigid length pressing hard against my pants.

“Impressive,” she whispers with a shaky chuckle.

“You feel what you’re doing to me, darlin’? I don’t know what this is, and frankly, I don't care. Right now, I’m all in.”

Her eyes flutter half-closed, pupils wide. “Tell me something, Andy…”

“Anything for you.”

“Do those doors behind us lock?”

I grin, letting it spread slow and cocky. “They sure as hell do. Stay put.”

I shoot across the room like I’ve got rockets on my back and flip the lock. We never use it. People fly in and out of this locker room like it’s a damn airport, even with half of us walking around in towels. But it does exist. So, I’m using it.

I return to her in a flash, cupping her face in my hands.

Then one hand slides down to her throat, my fingers curling around it as I pull her to her feet—a little rough, but she melts into it, following my lead without hesitation.

Her skin is just as soft as I imagined, and I take a moment to memorize it beneath my thumbs, warm, delicate, perfect .

I shift my grip, sliding to the back of her neck, threading my fingers into her hair.

I twist a fistful and tug her head back, forcing her eyes up to mine.

Then I kiss her, finally tasting the minty heat of her breath, claiming her mouth with mine.

She fits in my hands like she was made for this. For me .

The hair on the back of my neck rise again, but this time, it feels like permission. And damn, it feels good.

I pull back from the kiss, giving her bottom lip a teasing nip on the way out. She’s breathless, her lips parted like she wasn’t ready for me to stop, chest rising fast, and for a second, I just take her in. There’s something in her eyes, gripping me harder than it should.

I reach for the buttons of her lightweight suit jacket, half-expecting a blouse or slip underneath.

Something that’ll make me work for it. But there’s nothing.

Just the jacket and a silky bra. Hot. Fucking.

Damn. She wore this for me . She had to.

A barely-there thing in deep violet with blue roses stretched across the cups.

No wonder her nipples perked the second I touched them earlier.

My mouth is already watering. I have to taste her.

I dip my tongue into the notch at her clavicle, then drag it up along the column of her throat, tasting skin that’s warm and faintly sweet, like perfume and heat.

When I reach her ear, I nip at the shell until she hisses, breath catching.

The sound goes straight to my cock. I loop my arms around her, pulling her flush against me. She feels so good. Too good.

Maybe it’s just been too long for me. Maybe I’ve been buried in work too long, forgotten what it’s like to have a woman pressed up against me, pliant and willing. I need to make more time for this. For play .

Her hand’s already stroking me through my pants again. If she thought I was hard before, she’s in for a surprise. My cock’s so thick and swollen now, the skin pulled tight and aching, every throb deep in my gut and balls.

All it takes is a tug at the waistband, elastic giving way under her fingers, and I feel the rush of cooler air hitting my shaft. She must’ve dragged the boxer briefs down with it, because I’m fully exposed now.

“Christ…” she breathes, staring down at my cock. “It’s so veiny.”

She runs a finger along one of them, like she’s tracing a road map.

“I take it you like a veiny cock?”

Her eyes lift, locking with mine as she tips her head back slowly. “There’s just something about it,” she murmurs, “makes it look… big… savage… masculine .”

That word does something to me. My hips jerk forward, automatically, instinctively, seeking more.

She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she wraps her hand around my length and starts stroking slow, smooth, with just enough pressure to test my control. But I don’t do slow. Never have.

“Faster,” I growl. “Harder. ”

She obeys. And fuck, do I feel it. She strokes me like she’s known this cock for years, working me until my balls are so tight it hurts. I’m right there, teetering, ready to lose it all over her perfect little hand.

But not yet.

I grope for the zipper on her skirt. Find it. Yank it down in one clean, metallic hiss. The skirt hits the floor, and I strip it from her legs, leaving her in nothing but those high, fuck-me heels. And those? Those are staying on.

What man doesn’t want to fuck a woman in heels?

Her thong matches her bra, a flimsy little thing that's begging to be owned. I peel it down slowly, savoring the reveal of every bare inch. Once they hit her ankles, I pocket them like the prize they are.

“These are mine now,” I murmur.

“That right?” she breathes, lips curling into a wicked little smirk, tits shuddering slightly with every breath.

I dive in, sucking one nipple into my mouth, rough and greedy.

She gasps, arching into me like she needs it.

I switch sides, switching tits, grabbing her ass in both hands and squeezing hard before releasing with a smack.

Then I drag my nose down, past her belly button, until I’m kneeling, buried in the heat between her thighs.

She smells like raw sex and burnt sugar kissed with salt, and I want to drown in every drip of it.

“Spread those legs, darlin’. ”

Propping one leg up on the bench, she gives me the perfect view. Her pussy’s mostly bare, just a thin little strip of pale blonde hair along her slit. She’s so fucking wet .

Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I smooth my hands along her inner thighs, feeling how tight her muscles are, picturing them wrapped around my head. I press my thumbs into just the right spots, coaxing her legs wider, then swipe my tongue up the length of her pussy in one long lick.

“Oh god,” she whimpers.

Making a woman cry out for heaven while she’s drenched for me ? That’s the real religion. Another lick, and I pause. Just long enough to tease her.

“What is it?” she pants, eyes dark and unfocused.

“Nothing,” I say, licking my lips, tasting her.

“Don’t just tease me like that,” she says, her voice trembling.

But I wait. I want the word. Need the word.

I shouldn’t be playing games like this, but fuck, she tastes so good I can’t help myself. I could lose myself in this woman. Haven’t even been inside her yet, and I’m already halfway gone.

She shifts and tries to put her weight onto my mouth by shifting her hips.

“Nuh-uh,” I say with a wag of my finger. “Naughty, naughty girl, trying to take before I offer.”

“Why? Why won’t you just— ”

I cut her off with a flick of my tongue over her clit. Just enough to make her gasp, but not enough to satisfy.

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” she gasps, gripping my hair like it’s her lifeline.

Every tug only makes me harder. Not that I need the help. My cock is already leaking precum.

“Andy, please…” she moans, and fuck, my name on her lips? Pure sin. She’s so close.

“Yes?” I whisper, circling her clit, teasing but still not giving her exactly what she wants. I need more.

“Please, Daddy…”

A groan rips from my chest. “That’s it. Show me how much you want me. Beg for it. Beg for a taste of me.”

“Fuck me, Daddy. I need you.”

I growl, dragging my tongue over her clit again, this time with intent. I suck that tight little nub into my mouth, flicking it mercilessly while her thighs clamp around my head.

She curls over me, clutching me to her body, panting like I’ve set her on fire. Then I slide one thick finger inside her, slow, careful, deep. She’s tight. I work her open gently, then add a second.

My cock throbs with anticipation, already slick with precum. But it’s not his turn yet.

I start pumping my fingers into her, watching her face contort with pleasure.

Sweat beads at her hairline, her lips parting, her cheeks flushed all the way down to her chest. I fucking love a woman who blushes.

Always have. But only one other woman has ever flushed all the way down to her tits like that.

Phoenix.

Nah. Not a chance in hell.

Before I can spiral further, I feel her body tense, clenching around my fingers as her arousal surges. She’s close, so close, and I want to watch it happen. I suck her clit hard, curling my fingers inside her just right.

She gasps loudly, and I pull back to watch the climax take over.

Then, she squirts, her legs buckling beneath her, but I catch her, steadying her with one arm.

Streams of her release coat my hand, my wrist, my chest…

even my face. She’s moaning, crying out, practically thrashing, and I ease my fingers out, only to flick her clit with sharp, relentless strokes, dragging it out until she’s sobbing with pleasure.

And I’m hard as a fucking barbell, it aches. I glance down. Yeah… it’s his turn.

Time to bring home the winning goal.