“You have to go back to school. The internship program is for college seniors. You’ll get the same pay scale as anyone else with your equivalent background. I’m not doing you favors here. I need a real employee. There are a few departments that could use an extra hand, so you can decide which one seems most appealing.”
“Oh,” I said. Could I do this? Could I really work for him in this way?
It would mean I didn’t have to leave Matt behind…
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“That’s all I ask.”
We continued down the long halls, and I looked at the rooms behind the glass with new eyes. Landon was right—I had thought he’d built some glorified gym. But this… this was state of the art science.
“How did you build all this so quickly?” I asked, as we turned into a wing we hadn’t walked down before. “The cost of the center must be astronomical. And the athletes you attract…”
“I befriended a couple of rich pre-med students. They had trust funds they were desperate to throw at something. We partnered with a well-known division 1 quarterback for the first center and we collaborated with a more established doctor. It was a pilot center, and it didn’t run nearly as smoothly as later ones have. But it got me my start and I grew it from there with hard work and determination.”
He paused before a door, tapping his card up against the reader.
“And how did the quarterback end up doing?”
I followed him through the double set of doors, into a smaller, more quiet hall.
“He won the Heisman his senior year. And was sure to credit Prestige Sports Medicine for helping him get there. He was later drafted by the Cardinals and convinced us to launch our second center in Arizona. Half the team comes to us.”
“So you got a little lucky,” I said, as we stopped beside a gleaming mahogany door with frosted glass.
He stopped beside me, a hand on the doorknob. His eyes narrowed. “Luck is when you win on a slot machine or a scratch ticket. Nothing I’ve built is based on luck.”
He pushed the door open, and I stepped inside, instantly recognizing it as his office. The vaulted ceilings showcased big steel beams, and the tall windows—colored with leaded glass—let in bright light.
A giant oak desk sat in the middle, anchored by a thick wool rug. One wall was taken up by leather-bound books, while the other had matted, frame sports photos. Seahawks players, Sounders players, and beyond.
“That would be the Heisman winner,” he said gesturing to one portrait. “He’s one of my partners now.”
I rounded his desk, pulling myself up on top of it as I study the portraits.
“That’s an impressive group,” I said.
He stepped closer, turning in front of me. “They impress you?”
The words he didn’t say were clear: he wanted me to be impressed by him. By the things he’d accomplished, not on the playing field, but here. In an office, behind his enormous desk.
I stared into his eyes, matching the intensity. Matching his want. But I didn’t answer his question. We simply faced one another, staring. Waiting for one of us to make the move, to cross the line.
He stepped a few inches closer, then leaned toward me, tangling his hands in my hair and tipping my face up so he could kiss me.
There was nothing slow or tender about it, it was only raw hunger and need. One hand slipped down my back, pulling me up against him. I slid forward, letting my knees spread, allowing him to step between my legs.
It was as if he needed to me to feel how hard he was, already. As if he wanted to prove he’d been thinking of this in every moment we’d been together.
He teased my tongue with his own, deepening the kiss. He stepped up against the desk, forcing me to lay backward. He pulled my knees upward, closer to his waist, so that he could press into me, so I could feel the hard length of him.
He yanked my shirt up over my head and I fell back, his desk hard and cold against my back. My hair spread out around me, like a fan, and he reached over, shoving a wire basket, filled with paperwork, off the desk. It crashed to the floor, jarring me.
I started to sit up—worried that someone may have heard it, and he pushed me roughly back down. “I locked it,” he said, leaning down, devouring my mouth with his. And then I forget what it was I’d been thinking, consumed by his kiss.
One of his hands slid down my side, and up around my back, unclasping my bra with one smooth movement. The air was cold across my skin, contrasting with the heat where our bodies touched. I arched into him as his lips encircled my now-bare nipple.
His tongue swirled around it, and I rolled my hips against him, causing him to suck in a breath between his teeth.
I thought of this constantly since we were last together, and now I wanted it, wanted him to quit the teasing and take me, right here on his desk, in the middle of his massive office.