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Remy Lauder

L ike most Type A overachievers, I have a strict “no sex in the workplace” policy. A policy that Tyler Stone is currently breaking for the third time this month…

With me. On my desk. Again.

I should really stop letting this happen.

And I will.

Any minute now…

“We have to stop,” I whisper as Stone’s lips trail down the side of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that makes my toes curl. “I mean it. We can’t keep doing this.”

“That’s what you said last time,” he murmurs. “And the time before that.” His hands glide up my thighs, bunching my pencil skirt around my waist as he steps between my legs, pressing his body closer to mine.

Damn, his body…

If only he weren’t built like a Viking lumberjack with zero respect for personal space and a talent for making office furniture groan. With those broad shoulders, strong hands, chiseled abs, and that little smirk that says he knows I’m two seconds from giving in every time I try to push him away—he’s legitimately irresistible.

I’m a lifelong athlete, a coach’s daughter, a coach myself, for fuck’s sake!

I pride myself on discipline, strategy, and keeping my head in the game. But the second this man walks in smelling like fancy soap and bad decisions, my executive function goes right out the window.

Tyler Stone is my kryptonite, which is why we made rules about where and when it was okay to give in to our mutual lust-jones for each other.

It’s also why I keep breaking those rules…

“But this time we got caught, so we should definitely put this off until a later date.” I try to sound firm, but my fingers are already threading through his dirty blond hair.

“We didn’t get caught,” he scoffs, lifting his head from my neck to fix me with those impossibly blue eyes. “We helped two people who were locked in a bathroom get out of the bathroom. Two people I happen to be close friends with, who would never spread gossip about us, even if they suspected we’d been about to fuck when we were so rudely interrupted. But they don’t suspect a thing. So, we’re fine, Bossy. Just fine. I promise. Now, relax and let me get you naked. You’ll feel better when you’re naked.”

His smile is equal parts charm and mischief, the same grin that first got me into trouble eighteen months ago.

But back then, I didn’t know Stone was coming to play for the Badgers, for my team, which shortly thereafter became my father’s team. Sleeping with a player from my own franchise would have been problematic enough, but once my controlling, hyper-protective father became their head coach?

Forget about it.

I ditched Stone immediately, deleted his number, and made plans to pretend I’d never been taken up against a wall by the Portland Badger’s new star forward.

Then Stone showed up at my office door a few weeks after training camp started last year, looking like a wounded puppy. A really sexy wounded puppy who just wanted to make me come my brains out…

My capacity to make logical decisions has been on vacation ever since.

“I’m not getting naked with you,” I maintain.

“Fine, half naked.” He shifts even closer, until the thick ridge of his erection brushes against my thigh. “I can still do bad things to you half-naked. I’m gifted like that.”

I laugh, despite myself. “You’re insane, is what you are.”

“And you love it,” he replies, the humor in his voice giving way to something deeper, more intense.

My breath catches as his fingers tease up the soaked panel of my panties. “Stone, I’m serious this time… I really am…”

“Then tell me to stop like you mean it, and I’ll stop.” His voice drops to that low rumble that makes my pussy throb every bit as much as the thumb gently circling my clit. “I’ll walk out that door right now if you really want me to, Bossy. You know I’m a man of my word.”

That’s the problem. He is a man of his word. Stone is many things—irreverent, cocky, playful, even ridiculous at times—but he’s honest to a fault and has always respected my boundaries. The real ones, anyway.

Which makes it so much harder to say what I should say right now.

If I tell him to go, he will, but I really don’t like the thought of heading home without taking the edge off. Stone is trouble, but he’s also medicine. I wouldn’t be managing the stress of my jam-packed schedule half as well without his regularly and generously administered orgasms.

“Fine, the door,” I manage, breath coming faster as he increases his delicious pressure. “Just double check that it’s locked.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His slow smile is pure victory. He steps back, but not before pressing one more lingering kiss to my lips and giving my clit a pinch that makes me gasp.

“Asshole,” I hiss. “What if I pinched your dick?”

He checks the deadbolt, confirming it’s locked tight, before turning back to me with an arched brow. “Don’t make promises you’re not going to keep, darlin’. You know I like a little pain with my pleasure.”

“Bad.” I shake my head as he prowls across the room, the heat in his eyes making my entire body burn. “You’re a bad man.” He steps between my still spread thighs, his hands settling possessively on my hips.

“Am not. I’m practically a Boy Scout.” He drags my blouse free from my skirt. “I can see how much you need this. You’ve been wound tighter than a playoff game in triple overtime. When was the last time you took a real break? All work and no play makes Remy a stressed-out girl.”

I stiffen. Me realizing I’m pushing too hard is one thing. Stone seeing it is something else. Lauders don’t show weakness to outsiders. Hell, we usually don’t even admit it to ourselves. “I’m fine,” I say, in a cooler voice. “And I don’t need you to manage my stress levels, thank you very much.”

“No?” His hand slides beneath my blouse, tracing the underside of my bra. “How about managing your orgasms, then? I’m very qualified in that department. No one makes you come better than me, Bossy, and you know it.”

I should be annoyed by his cockiness, but damn it, he’s not wrong.

“So, tell me what’s weighing on you, woman,” he continues. “And I’ll decide how many times you need to get off to reach a state of maximum chill for the weekend.”

“I’m not worried about anything…But I did land a big coaching interview,” I admit, my hands smoothing over his pecs, relishing the feel of the solid muscle beneath his shirt. I’ve dated my share of well-built men, but Stone’s body really is next level. “But it’s not for a month, and you know I hate waiting for things.”

Like for him to get undressed…

I set to work on his buttons, slipping each one through its hole.

“For which team?” he asks.

“Seattle, the new expansion team they’re putting together for the pro women’s league.”

“What? The PWHL? Holy fuck, that’s incredible, Rem,” he says, his hands stilling beneath my breasts as a smile explodes across his face. “Woman, you’re on your way to the big leagues! That’s a huge deal! Congratulations.”

Warmth and discomfort war in my chest at his genuine enthusiasm. It’s one of the most disarming things about Stone—how eager he is to support me, brag on me, hype me up like I’m the pro athlete and he’s the member of the administrative support staff. After a lifetime of being held to my father’s unreachable standards—no matter how good I was on the ice growing up, it was never good enough—it’s an odd experience.

Nice, but weird, and I hurry to push past the touchy-feely stuff the way I always do.

“Thanks, but I don’t have the job yet,” I warn. “They’re casting a wide net, and I’m up against candidates with way more coaching experience. Including a couple of guys who have already done assistant coaching in the NHL, so…”

“Experience ex-schmear-ience. None of those punks has your knowledge of the game. Women in the game, in particular. You’re going to rock their world. No doubt in my mind.” His fingers squeeze my ribs in a way that makes me feel safe and fragile at the same time.

I’m a tall woman, a lifelong athlete with the muscle mass to prove it. But from the day Stone first put his giant hands on me, I’ve finally experienced what it’s like to feel dainty.

I’m a little ashamed to say I like it.

A lot.

“Why is your shirt still on?” I ask, arching a pointed brow as I slip the final button through the hole. “Or mine for that matter?”

Stone’s wicked grin returns. “Apologies. I got distracted being proud of you. I am taking you out to celebrate, by the way. Soon. We’ll go somewhere way out of town this time, where no one knows our names or why you can’t claim me as your sexy boyfriend.”

My heart stutters at the “b” word.

We don’t talk about the possibility of more than sex— ever —and we never go out together in public, not since our first real date last summer nearly ended in disaster. I had to crawl out of a bar twenty miles outside of town on my hands and knees, while Stone distracted the three Badger players who’d just walked in. That was all the proof I needed that we should stick to the original plan.

Sex. Release. A good time had by all.

And most importantly, no strings attached.

I should remind Stone, gently, that the status quo is best. I should, and…I would if he weren’t already kissing me again, fusing his lips to mine with an intensity that makes speech impossible. Stone kisses like he plays hockey, with total commitment, exquisite skill, and just the right amount of aggression. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, claiming his territory, and I surrender to the hunger he brings roaring to life inside me, grabbing the sides of his jeans and dragging him closer.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his voice husky.

“Everything,” I breathe, shoving his shirt off his broad shoulders. “I want all of you. Now.” He helps me dispense with his button-down, and I go for the tight white undershirt beneath, pulling it up and over his head, revealing his chest. My hands roam greedily over warm skin and hard muscle, savoring his sharp intake of breath when my nails drag across his nipples.

Stone growls—a literal, primal growl that sends fresh heat onto my already ruined panties—before capturing my mouth in another bruising kiss. His hands move to my blouse, and a beat later, I feel a sharp jerk, followed by the distinct sound of buttons scattering across the office floor.

“Not again. That was brand new,” I breathe against his lips.

“Bill me,” he murmurs, before bending to take one lace-covered nipple between his teeth.

I arch closer, a ragged cry escaping my throat as hunger pulses between my thighs, coiling, hot and low, in my core. Stone tugs my bra down, baring my breasts before sucking one sensitive peak deep while his fingers tease the other, the dual sensation making me dizzy with need.

“Damn, I love your mouth.” His tongue flicks over my nipple, then comes the sweet sting of his teeth, making me groan. “Don’t stop. Ever.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says, shoving my skirt up even higher. My panties hit the floor a beat later. “Been fantasizing about bending you over this desk since you breezed past me without a second look in the hall this morning.” His fingers find my clit, making me moan as he rubs me in circles. “Couldn’t wait to have your full and complete attention.”

The longing in his voice makes my pussy clench. “Then quit stalling,” I taunt, my breath coming faster as he sinks to his knees in front of me. “Or did you blow all your stamina at practice today?”

His laugh vibrates against my skin as he bites the inside of my thigh. “You’re about to find out how much stamina I’ve got.” His breath ghosts over my slick center, hot and mocking. “But first? I’m gonna make you come so hard you forget what Remy is short for.”

“Yeah, good luck with that, I—” My jab dissolves into a gasp as his mouth crashes against me, his tongue spearing deep. My hips jerk off the desk, arching closer, but he pins me down, holding me captive as he devours me. Every suck, every flick against my clit is precision warfare, the same ruthless focus he uses to break defenses on the rink.

And I’m breaking fast.

“Yes, Stone! God, yes.” I’m shameless now, grinding against his face, my legs shaking as he adds two fingers, crooking them to stroke the spot that makes my vision blur. “Yes! Right there, don’t stop . Please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t fucking dream of it,” he rumbles against my clit before sealing his lips around it and sucking hard. My orgasm slams into me like a check into the boards—violent, electrifying, stealing my breath away as I writhe. “That’s one,” he murmurs, as I slowly come down from the bliss spiral. “How many do you need before this sweet pussy is ready to take every inch?”

“Now,” I pant, still twitching from the aftershocks. “Fuck me now.”

“Don’t want to hurt you, Bossy,” he says, heat flaring in his gaze as his focus returns to where I’m insanely wet for him. “You’re a tiny thing, and you know I go deep from behind.”

“Less talk, more fucking me, princess,” I say, employing the nickname I use to tease him about his love for flower-arranging classes and facials and other activities traditionally reserved for gay men of a certain age.

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His eyes darken, that competitive fire igniting as he surges up to crush his mouth to mine. I taste myself on his tongue, salt and sin, as he tugs his belt open with his free hand. “But who am I to deny a woman who’s ready to get railed?”

Stone spins me around, his chest a furnace against my back as he bends me over my desk. My keyboard makes crunching noises under my ribs and my pencil holder falls to the floor, but all I care about is the thick head of Stone’s cock butting against where I’m desperate for him.

He sheathes himself in one brutal thrust, stretching me until I suck in a bracing breath. Even as wet as I am, he’s a lot. So long, so thick, so hard that I feel him everywhere, and he’s clearly ready to give me exactly what I asked for.

“ Christ , Remy. You’re so tight on my dick, baby. So fucking tight.” His fingers dig into my hips, yanking me back into him with each snap of his pelvis. The desk creaks, more pens rolling off the edge as he takes me hard and my body begins to spiral all over again. “Is this what you needed, Bossy? Every inch of my cock ruining this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, please, oh please,” I beg. I’m beyond pride, clawing at the desk as he hammers that spot deep inside that drives me wild. “Stone. Oh God, Stone.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Come for me.” His palm cracks against my ass, the sting ricocheting straight to my clit. “Come all over my cock. Now. ”

I cry out as my orgasm rips through me, drowning me in pleasure as Stone whispers filthy things against my neck. “Still think I’m all talk, baby?” He pins my wrists to the desk, his rhythm growing erratic.

“Come in me,” I beg shamelessly. “Come so deep inside, please.”

He slams home one final time, his groan of release muffled by my hair as his hips stutter. “Fuck baby. Fuck… Love coming in you. Love this pussy bare on my cock, Remy.” He sucks in a breath as he continues to twitch inside me. “Never going to get enough of you. Never.”

I swallow, catching my breath as he sags on top of me, knowing better than to take that last part seriously.

We all say things we don’t really mean when under the influence of extreme horniness. That’s how I ended up getting an IUD six months ago. I kept telling Stone to fuck me bare when I really shouldn’t have been.

Sex with him just…makes me crazy.

A thing proven by the fact that I keep fucking him in the same building where my father has an office one floor down. And yes, I always make sure Dad’s long gone before texting Stone to come “see me about some paperwork,” but still…

Crazy.

Finally, after a long moment, Stone presses a kiss between my shoulder blades before pulling out. I wince slightly at the loss, then again at the slickness trickling down my inner thigh.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” he says, hitching his jeans and boxers up before turning me in his arms. He reaches into his back pocket for a handkerchief and gently cleans between my thighs, careful of my sex-sensitized clit.

He really is a very thoughtful man, a thing I tease him about to make sure he knows I appreciate it. No, I don’t think more than sex is a good idea for us, but I’m a big fan of thoughtful people and think they should be praised for sucking far less than the average population.

“Thank you. Always the Boy Scout,” I murmur as we pull on the rest of our clothes. Thankfully, I have a silk tee in my spare clothing stash in the coat closet that won’t look too strange with my skirt, since my dress shirt is out of commission until I ask the dry cleaner to sew the buttons back on.

I pull the tee on and wander back to the desk, catching Stone’s concerned gaze.

“Nothing boy scout about what I just did to your pussy, Bossy.” He winces a little. “Everything all right down there? I went a little harder than I meant to.”

I exhale a happy sigh as I loop my wrists together behind his neck. “Stop. I’m fine. That was a most excellent railing. Five stars, would happily get wrecked by your dick again.”

“Aw, that’s great to hear.” He bats his lashes before adding in a breathy whisper, “You say the most romantic things.”

I laugh. “You’re in the wrong place for romance, buddy. I’m way too busy.” I sigh again, a wearier sound this time. “Which reminds me, I have to hit the grocery store on the way home. I have nothing to cook for dinner.”

“You could come over to my place,” he says. “I’ve got plenty of chicken titties and zucchini. I could grill and you could rest.”

I hesitate, hating how good that sounds.

Especially considering what I need to tell him before we go…

Stone must sense the tension rising inside me, because he quickly adds, “It’s just dinner, Rem. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“I know. It’s not that, I just…” I lean back against the edge of the desk, crossing my arms, steeling myself to make this kind, but firm.

And quick.

The only thing I hate more than disappointing someone is sticking around to marinate in the dejected afterglow.

“To be honest, with the Seattle interview coming up on top of my local coaching and work and the volunteer stuff on Sundays, I’m spread thin, Stone,” I say. “And training camp is just starting, and you need to be locked in on the new team dynamic and making the most of your last season in the NHL. So, I was thinking that maybe…”

His expression grows guarded. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe we should take a break for a while.” The words feel wrong on my tongue, but I push on, blaming the sex. I should have come clean before he softened me up with orgasms, not after. “Just until after the interview,” I hurry to add. “I need to focus, and this…” I gesture between us. “I mean, it’s great, but it’s also…distracting. You know?”

Something flickers in his eyes—disappointment? Hurt? I’m not sure, but it’s gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

“Sure,” he says with a shrug, shifting to lean against the desk beside me. “Whatever you need, Rem. You know I’m on your team.”

He is. That’s also part of the problem. He’s always so damn supportive, so understanding, making it nearly impossible to keep him in a neat box labeled “friends with benefits” where he belongs.

“Thanks,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “I appreciate that. I really do. And same to you.”

“Cool.” He straightens, and for a moment, I think he might say something else. Instead, he simply presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “Good luck with your busy month, Coach Lauder,” he says, his voice light. “I’ll be rooting for you. See you Monday.”

A few moments later, his gear bag is over his shoulder and he’s breezing out my office door, leaving me alone with the lingering scent of sex and his cologne in the air and a hollow feeling in my chest.

I remind myself that this was my call and it’s for the best, but the icky sensation remains.

It sticks to me like glue all the way out to my car and through a crowded Friday evening supermarket trip, lodging so deep in my craw, I can barely taste the orzo with roasted fall vegetables that I make for dinner.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was starting to have romantic feelings for this man.

But I do know better.

I know I have no interest in feelings other than friendly ones. And I know my father would kill us both if he found out we were fornicating, let alone anything more than fornicating.

So…this is for the best. It really is.

I repeat the mantra over and over again in my head as I get ready for bed, the better to be ready for my early start tomorrow. But as I drift off, I can’t help wishing Stone were sleeping over.

Which is a problem.

Maybe even a big one.