Page 54 of The No Try Zone
Sam
MY BODY IS a little sore this morning, but it makes me smile. I know we shouldn’t have done it – it was dangerous and reckless – but I can’t make myself regret it.
And I might regret that loss of regret, but…not yet.
I didn’t go up to his office for that to happen. But when he pulled me to him and I felt him hard against me, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I’d spent too much time wondering. Too much time wanting and literally dreaming about him. So I didn’t stop it.
And the look on his face when I said the very thing I knew he was already thinking?
Priceless.
After a shower to wash the sleep away and a protein smoothie, I put on my usual uniform of leggings and scrub shirt, grab the smoothies, and make my way over to Ollie’s apartment.
You ready, little brother?
…
I watch the dots with a touch of amusement. When no answer comes, I type again.
Whose car is in your visitor spot?
None of your business.
Mmm, interesting. Male or female?
Also none of your business.
I grin.
So am I calling a rideshare and giving the driver this extra smoothie?
Ollie responds with a thumbs up, so I open the rideshare app.
The extra smoothie is still good by the time I get to the office, thanks to the cup I used. And since I’m feeling generous – two incredible orgasms will do that to a girl – I take the stairs up to Colin’s office instead of heading down to the workout facility.
I wave to Neesha when she glances up from her desk as I pass by. “Nice hair,” I tell her, pointing to the braids she’s rocking.
“Wig,” she says with a wink. “Much easier that way.”
I laugh. “I believe it.” I continue down the hall to the office at the end, already able to see his shadow from where he must be looking down at the pitch.
He startles at my knock, his face unreadable. “Sam?”
I raise the cup in my hand. “Smoothie?”
His forehead relaxes. “Oh. Um.”
I keep going. “I usually make an extra smoothie for Ollie but he was, ah, busy this morning and I took a rideshare in, and I didn’t know what to do with the extra so I thought you might want it. But never –”
“Thank you,” he interrupts. “That was thoughtful.”
I stare at him, then lower my voice. “Your face was between my thighs yesterday. Why are you being weird?”
He coughs, red splotches appearing above his beard as he pounds his chest.
I grin. “You okay there, Coach?”
He tries to glare at me, but all it does is make me smile wider. Finally, he calms down and exhales. “What’s in it?”
