Page 121 of The Defender

The way her breath hitched when I played with her clit. The way she bucked against me when I alternated between long, smooth strokes and shorter, harder thrusts. And the way her cunt clenched and convulsed when I held her down, fucking her mercilessly in the middle of the pitch until she was begging me to let her come.

“Please. Vincent, please,” she sobbed when I slowed my thrusts again. “I need to—let me—I need…”

“What do you need, sweetheart? Use your words.” I leaned over her, one hand on her hip and the other braced on the ground next to her. Heat poured off her body, and I wanted to bury myself in her neck, breathing in her scent and feeling the wild flutter of her pulse against my skin.

I got off on competition, but I got off on pleasuring her more. Seeing her smile, hearing her moan—it was better than the world’s strongest aphrodisiac.

“I need to come.” Brooklyn whimpered. “Please. Let me come.”

I kissed her tenderly on the shoulder. “All you had to do was ask.”

I thrust into her again. At the same time, I reached around and pressed my thumb against her swollen, needy clit.

Just like that, she came apart, her scream tearing through the night right as the timer went off. It didn’t take me long to join her, and when the throes of our orgasms finally receded, we collapsed next to each other in an exhausted heap.

“Let’s call that a tie,” she said drowsily. “One-one.”

I chuckled. “I’ll put it on our scoreboard.” I pulled down her dress and adjusted the rest of her clothes, covering her up with her coat before I got dressed.

Now that we were cooling off, I felt the bite of the wind again. We should head inside soon, but I wanted to stay just a moment longer so I could soak her in—her happy smile and sparkling eyes, the rosy blush on her cheeks as she stretched her arms over her head.

“I take back what I said earlier.Thiswas the best gift ever,” she said. “Having sex on a football pitch? Inspired.”

“I aim to please.” I gave her a soft kiss. “Now let’s get out of here before we get sick, or someone figures out we’ve defiled the pitch.”

“I can finally check that off my bucket list. I never thought it would happen.” Brooklyn’s smile softened as she wrapped her arms around my neck. She brushed her lips against mine. “Happy Christmas, DuBois.”

Warmth surged through my chest. My throat tightened, but I pulled her closer and murmured, “Merry Christmas, buttercup.”

And as we walked back to my car, her hand in mine, I realized that the most dangerous person in my world wasn’t the intruder or my birth mom or any rival footballer.

It was Brooklyn, because she was the only person alive with the power to unravel me.

CHAPTER 32

BROOKLYN

The rest of the holidays passed in a blur. Before I knew it, it was the last day of my internship.

Human Resources had organized a goodbye party for the interns in the kitchen. The “party” consisted of half a dozen balloons and a gluten-free cake, but it was the thought that counted.

We’d said goodbye to the players earlier, in case we didn’t see them after training. They’d all signed individual cards for Henry and me, and the petty side of me was gratified to see I got personalized messages while his contained only their signatures.

“I guess I’ll see you around. Or not.” Henry popped a piece of cake into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and said, “I’m serious about that job though. If you want to join the Hydralade family, I can get you through the door. You might have to work your way up though, since you don’t have any experience in product development.Butthere are plenty of great admin and support roles.”

“Henry.” I deliberately set the cake knife down. “I would rather go to the manufacturing plant, flood it with your shittysports drink, and walk into the middle of the flood wrapped in live electric wires.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I would rather electrocute and drown myself at the same time than work for your family’s company, Henry.” I emphasized his name a second time.

He blinked. “Well, that’s a little dramatic, but point taken. Your loss.” He shrugged and nabbed another slice of cake before sauntering out.

I blew out a breath. Interacting with him wiped away any sadness I had about leaving. Thank God I wouldn’t have to work with him again.

Most of the staff had already trickled out. Jones and Lizzie were the only two left in the kitchen. They were deep in conversation, but then Lizzie excused herself, and it was just Jones and me.

He came up beside me as I threw away the empty paper plates. “Have you heard back from ISNA?”