Page 10 of Huge Pucking Play (Chicago Blades)

Chapter 10

Garrett

I can't stop staring at her. Cyn's green eyes catch mine across the aisle, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. She looks away and starts typing on her phone.

My phone buzzes.

Cyn: "Miss me already, Coach?"

I smirk, typing back: "Just admiring the view."

She bites her lip, suppressing a giggle. God, she's beautiful.

The flight attendant passes between us, breaking our gaze. I clear my throat, pretending to be engrossed in a magazine.

Cyn: "Thinking about our adjoining rooms?"

My pulse quickens. Images of the past two days flash through my mind—mad passionate kisses, her hot as fuck body, late nights and muffled moans.

Me: "You're playing with fire, Lockhart."

Cyn: "Maybe I like getting burned."

I shift in my seat, adjusting the growing hardness in my pants. This woman will be the death of me.

Me: "Careful. I might have to punish you for that smart mouth."

Cyn: "Promises, promises."

A chuckle escapes me. I glance up, catching her eye again. The heat in her gaze makes my breath catch.

Me: "You're trouble."

Cyn: "Who? Me?"

I haven’t felt this alive, this exhilarated, in a long time. It's dangerous, unprofessional, and fucking intoxicating.

Me: "What am I going to do with you?"

Cyn: "I have a few ideas..."

I groan inwardly, gripping the armrest. My mind wanders to when I’ll be able to taste her again.

A few minutes later Cyn stands, stretching. My eyes surreptitiously follow the curve of her body as she moves towards the back of the plane. I wait for a couple of minutes, and then also make my way to the back of the plane.

I glance around to see if anyone is paying attention to us. Most of the guys are sleeping and the one that aren’t are glued to their phones.

My heart pounds as I approach the bathroom. I tap lightly on the door.

"Occupied," Cyn's voice calls softly.

I lean in close to the door and whisper, "It's me."

A pause. The lock clicks and she opens the door just enough for me to slip in, which I do sideways to fit my oversized shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she mouths.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m here to punish you. Just like I promised.”

Her eyes grow wide as I push her gently against the door. Our lips crash together, hungry and desperate.

"We really shouldn't," she whispers, even as her hands roam my chest. She rubs lightly on both my nipples and my dick jumps in my pants.

"Probably not. But I’m not really a rule follower," I murmur, lifting her onto the sink.

I reach for her shirt, fumbling with the buttons. My fingers move with urgency. I manage to undo just enough to expose her lacy bra. Gently, I ease her breasts free, marveling at their perfect shape.

I take one nipple into my mouth, savoring its hardness against my tongue. My other hand caresses her neglected breast, feeling it respond instantly to my touch. Cyn's breath is ragged.

"Oh God," she whispers, arching into me.

But I can see discomfort flicker across her face. The sink edge can’t be comfortable. We're cramped, limbs awkward in the tiny space.

How the hell do people do this? I wonder. The logistics seem impossible.

An idea strikes me. I guide Cyn off the sink, turning us around. Lowering the toilet lid, I sit, pulling her onto my lap. She straddles me, knees on either side of my hips.

"Better?" I murmur against her collarbone.

She nods, grinding against me. The new position allows her to take control. Her hands tangle in my hair as she kisses me deeply.

Cyn's sweater dress bunches around her waist as she straddles me. Her lacy panties brush against my straining zipper. I groan, hands gripping her hips.

"Shh," she whispers, pressing a finger to my lips. I grab that finger and place it in my mouth, sucking lightly while looking into her eyes.

Her fingers make quick work of my belt and zipper. I lift my hips, allowing her to push my pants and briefs down just enough.

Cyn's hand softly encircles my cock, moving with a gentle rhythm. I suppress a moan and press my face against her neck, inhaling her floral and feminine scent. "Are you ready?" she whispers.

"God, yes," I manage.

She pushes her panties aside and sinks down onto me in one fluid motion. We both gasp at the sensation. She's so tight, so wet.

Cyn starts to move, rocking against me. Her breasts bounce tantalizingly close to my face. I capture a nipple in my mouth, sucking gently.

"Oh fuck," she whimpers.

Her pace quickens, desperate and needy. I match her rhythm, thrusting up to meet her.

I can feel myself getting close already. The thrill of potentially getting caught, the way Cyn feels around me—it's all too much.

"I'm close," I pant, my fingers digging into her hips.

Cyn nods, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Me too."

She grinds down harder, her movements becoming erratic. I thrust up to meet her, feeling the tension build low in my belly.

Her dress bunches higher, exposing more of her creamy thighs. I slide one hand beneath the fabric, caressing the soft skin of her lower back. My other hand snakes between us, finding her clit. I put pressure on it just how I know she likes it.

Cyn's head falls back, her mouth open in a silent cry. Her inner walls clench around me, pulsing with her release. The sight of her coming undone pushes me over the edge. I bury my face against her chest to muffle my groan as I explode inside her.

We stay like that for a moment, panting and trembling. Cyn peppers my face with light kisses, her fingers stroking through my hair. I hold her close, savoring the warm weight of her in my arms.

Reality slowly seeps back in. We're on a plane. In a tiny bathroom. With a whole team just outside the door.

"We should..." I start.

"Yeah," Cyn agrees, reluctantly lifting herself off me.

We clean up quickly trying not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation. We have gone from being “friends” to fucking with the whole team twenty feet away.

"You go first," I whisper, kissing her once more.

She slips out the door, trying desperately to look nonchalant. I count to sixty, my heart still racing. When I finally emerge, I scan the aisle nervously. No one looks up. No raised eyebrows. No knowing smirks.

I exhale slowly, relief washing over me. We actually pulled it off.

As I make my way back to my seat, I catch Cyn's eye. She winks, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. Oh my God, this woman.

I settle into my chair, feeling pretty damn pleased with myself. Assistant coach joins the mile-high club at thirty-eight. Not bad, Hughes. Not bad at all.

The rest of the flight passes in a haze. I pretend to watch the in-flight movie, but my mind keeps drifting back to Cyn. The way she looked when she came undone…I can’t get it out of my mind.

When we land, I hang back, letting the team file off ahead of me. As Cyn passes, she brushes her hand against mine. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the brief contact.

"Enjoy the flight, Coach?" she asks, just loud enough for me to hear.

I smirk, watching her saunter down the aisle. Her hips sway enticingly, and I have to force myself to look away before anyone notices me staring.

The following weekend I find myself at Evan's bachelor party, surrounded by nearly the entire roster of Blades players. The atmosphere buzzes with camaraderie and anticipation, the air alive with laughter and the clinking of bottles.

The bachelor party is in full swing. Evan's laughter booms across the bar as I approach, two beers in hand.

"Having fun, Ice Man?" I ask, handing him a bottle.

"Best night ever," Evan grins, clinking his beer against mine. "Thanks for coming, Coach."

I settle beside him, curiosity gnawing at me. "So, you and Sophie...how'd that start?"

Evan's eyebrows shoot up. "She was a Blades intern. Caught my eye the first day I saw her, but she was so young. Off limits, you know?"

I shrug, aiming for casual. "Sure, I get it. But you decided to go for it anyway, huh?"

"Eventually," Evan nods, his expression softening. "Apparently she had a crush on me. But, I was…well I’m sure you’ve heard."

"Mr. Grumpy Goalie," I chuckle.

"Exactly. But Sophie...she saw through that. Made me laugh. It wasn't easy at first, though."

I lean in. "No? How so?"

"Age difference, for one. I'm ten years older. I worried about what people would think."

My heart skips. Ten years feels like nothing. I’m thirteen years older than Cyn.

"How'd you get past it?" I ask, perhaps too eagerly.

Evan eyes me curiously. "Realized it didn't matter. Sophie's mature, knows what she wants. Why are you so interested, Coach? "

I cough, nearly choking on my beer. "No reason really. Just taking an interest in my players."

Before Evan can press further, Barnesy stumbles over, clearly drunk. He slaps my back, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

"Hey, Coach! You see Cyn Lockhart at work today?" Barnesy slurs, his eyes glazed.

My jaw clenches. "What about her?"

"Man, she's so hot," Barnesy grins lecherously. "Those legs, that ass...I'd love to?—"

"Tone it down," I growl, cutting him off. My fists ball at my sides.

Barnesy blinks, confused. "What? Just saying she's smokin'. Bet she's wild in bed."

Something snaps inside me. I stand, towering over him. "You need to shut your mouth and show some respect."

"Whoa, chill," Barnesy holds up his hands. "What's the problem, man?"

I lean in close, my voice low and dangerous. "My problem is how you talk about women. Cyn's a professional, not some conquest. She deserves better than your bullshit."

Evan watches, eyebrows raised. I realize I might've revealed too much, but I can't back down now.

"All women do," I continue. "Maybe if you treated them like people instead of objects, you wouldn't be striking out so often."

Barnesy's face reddens. "Hey, I get plenty? — "

"Yeah, and how many stick around?" I challenge. "Grow up, Barnesy. Learn some class."

He stumbles back, muttering curses. As he retreats, I sink back into my seat, heart pounding.

Evan leans in, his voice low. "So...Cyn, huh?"

I close my eyes, sighing. I’m so busted.