I swat her butt playfully and then place a kiss on her spine. Wrapping a hand around my dick, I give myself a quick jerk before lining up at her entrance.

Sydney glances over her shoulder and we lock eyes as I push inside of her. I don’t know if anything has ever felt better. Not hitting a game winning shot and not striking out a batter in the bottom of the ninth. For a guy who’s constantly chasing the high of winning, sex has sometimes felt like a letdown. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, because duh even bad sex is awesome, but nothing has ever come close to those adrenaline-fueled, bigger than life moments sports have given me.

Sydney does. She’s all the best parts of a teammate, a coach, and an opponent wrapped up in one sexy as hell package. But the best part about spending time with Sydney is that I see myself outside of the identities I’ve clung to. I’m stripped down to my core with her. I’m not a basketball player or a baseball player, I’m just a guy enjoying the moment.

With one hand on her back and the other at her hip, I pump into her at a hard and steady rhythm. Sydney’s head falls to the mattress and her back arches. My name slips from her mouth with a groan as the orgasm shatters her beneath me.

Her pussy squeezes me and tips me over the edge. Even after we’ve both come, she moves her hips in a small circle, milking me for every drop.

We both groan as I withdraw. She slumps onto the bed to her back. A sheen of sweat covers her body and glistens in the dark of the room.

I cover her body with mine and my dick twitches between us. Her lips pull up into a smile. “Tell the big guy, I said hey, but I need a minute.”

“Yeah?” I rub myself against her pussy. “Well, while you take a minute, he wants to say hey back.”

Her eyelids fall shut. “I like the way he says hello better than when you do.”

I chuckle. “I’ll remember that, babe.”

“It looks like a bomb went off in here,” I say as I survey the bedroom. Sheets and pillows are scattered around. I think we fucked in every square inch of this room. “I’m going to take Tara out for breakfast, and then when I come back, let’s take the boat out. I owe you a driving lesson.” There isn’t any of the excitement I expected on her face. “Do you not want to learn?”

“It isn’t that.”

I sit back on the edge of the bed. Sydney wears her emotions all over her face, but I can’t figure out what this one is—nerves? Fear?