Page 37 of Body Check

He clicks the cap of the massage oil, and then I hear the sound of skin-on-skin, and then his body is behind mine. The head of his cock brushes against my ass, and I tense.

But then he shifts, his hand maneuvering against my ass, and he guides his cock between my legs.

I squeeze my thighs together, giving him a tight channel to fuck into. His groan reverberates through him and into me, rattling my bones.

His hands land on my hips, his grip tight, and he blankets my body with his, the heat between us turning the room into an inferno. His mouth lands on my neck, licking and sucking at the skin.

With the remaining air in my lungs, I gasp out, “No marks.”

Scraping his teeth against the tendon in my neck, he growls but backs off. His hips buck against my ass while he fucks my thighs, the thick, sticky length of him so fucking close to my pussy.

But he doesn’t fuck me, doesn’t try to enter me.

His thrusts grow more erratic, his breathing harsh and ragged in my ear. I arch my back, pressing my ass against him, and his entire body tenses as he lets out a long, loud groan.

Between my legs, his cock pulses, his cum landing on my skin and on the exam table. His body shakes behind me, finally going still.

The only sound in the room the ragged breaths sawing out of our lungs. Both of us are struggling to breathe, and I don’t know about him, but my heart races like I just ran a fucking marathon.

Or a marathon fucking.

McKittrick clears his throat, and then steps back. I feel the loss of him immediately, and I’m suddenly hit with the awareness that his cum is between my thighs while I’m at work.

We did this in my office. At work. Where anyone could walk in and see us. Hear us.

Fuck.

He crosses the small room and grabs a few paper towels, wetting them at the sink, and then brings them to me to clean myself up. He does the same, and then pulls his shorts back on and runs his hand through his hair.

“Uh…”

I shake my head. “Just go.”

He clears his throat. “My, uh, knee…”

“Right.” With a sigh, I cross the room to the sink, washing my hands, and then wipe down the table. “Hop back up.”

A pleased smirk on his lips, McKittrick lays himself out on my table, and I focus on the task at hand, testing his mobility and then assigning him specific exercises as homework.

I can’t fool around with the hockey team captain. I can’t fuck around at work. He’s practically untouchable; they’d get rid of me in an instant.

It doesn’t matter that our brief interlude was the highlight of my year. It can’t happen again.