Overtime Play by Kasey Moone

to do.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I quit.”
    Finally realizing she was serious, he straightened, anger whipping across his face. A low growl rumbled from his chest. “What for?”
    She shoved the cell phone in his hands, wanting to make an exit as soon as possible. If she didn’t leave, she’d do something stupid.
    “You know what the hell I’m talking about,” she snapped, her gaze bouncing off onlookers.
    He grabbed her arm. “What happened?”
    She wrestled out of his embrace then walked to the elevator, knowing he was following close behind. A group of bystanders eyed them thoughtfully. Though she took a step toward the open elevator doors, Jeremy hustled her into the stairwell, where he pushed her up against a wall and crowded her space.
    His hazel eyes bore into her. “What happened?”
    “It doesn’t matter,” she said, suddenly feeling incredibly sad. Why couldn’t he just let her go? She meant nothing to him.
    He continued to glare at her. “Now you want to be silent,” he snapped. “You usually yak my ears off, parroting me. Tell me what’s the matter.”
    She opened her mouth but closed it quickly. She would not give him the satisfaction of arguing with him. Her heart was already breaking. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
    He placed a sweet kiss on her lips. “Talk to me.” Then another on her collarbone. “Talk to me.”
    Her nipples hardened. Silently, she cursed her body for betraying her.
    “I’ll make it better.” He kissed her again. “What do you need?” His voice was a drug, lulling her into his arms. “I’ll give you what you need.”
    She suddenly felt light on her feet; she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. Why couldn’t she be with him one last time? Why couldn’t she choose to forget what she’d heard, if only for a moment? She tore at his shirt, running her hands up and down his chest, blinded by her need for him, even if it was all a lie. He yanked her slacks and panties down, and picked her up, so that she straddled his waist. The feel of the cold wall against her back did not cool her desire. Only made her impatient for his touch. She clung to his shoulders as he continued to rain kisses on the side of her neck.
    His teeth snapped by her ear. “Sweetheart.”
    She closed her eyes at the word, her heart in turmoil. Keeping her back pressed against the wall, he unzipped his pants, sheathed himself with a condom, and lifted her up on his long, thick cock. She screamed at the pressure filling her core. He was so large and beautiful. So much the man she’d always longed for.
    Slowly he thrust inside of her, up and down, finding a perfect rhythm. She leaned her head on his warm neck, never wanting this to end. He rode her with urgency. Hot flesh on hot flesh. Higher up the wall. Harder. His massive flesh tearing her in two, grinding her toward the orgasm she yearned for.
    She could feel her climax building inside her. Could feel herself plunging over the edge. She groaned and tightened her legs, pulling him deeper, wanting to lose herself completely in the moment.
    Like a bolt of lightning, she hit her peak. The breath whooshed from her as she screamed her orgasm. Her pussy walls contracted wildly as she clung to his neck and whimpered his name.
    He thrust harder, the sound of his curses echoing in the stairwell as he found his own release.
    When it was over, she floated back down to the solid floor, where realty slammed into her. Stunned, she looked at Jeremy, her heart full of pain. Did she have no shame? She’d behaved exactly as he saw her—like a straight-up ho. In the stairwell nonetheless.
    “Now let’s talk about what’s bothering you,” he said, grinning ear to ear as he brushed her braids back.
    Mira scoffed. Did he think fucking her would make her an agreeable twit? Make her coo and caw like a nitwit? She straightened her clothes and glared at him as he arranged his slacks. She had to protect her heart by making sure he got the message. She had to be