CHAPTER 4 LINCOLN

"Yes, yes, yes!" she whispers.

She has to whisper. She's in my office, her legs in the air and her back on the little round table in the corner as I bang into her. I wish I'd had the foresight to take her out of her dress so I could watch her tits bounce, but we scrambled to get to this moment as it is.

"Fuck," I murmur as I come into her. It's a long, hard climax a couple weeks in the making, and I drop down to press my lips to hers as my body wrings itself out into her.

We've barely had time for each other, but there was a press conference earlier and she asked me for an exclusive afterward, so here we are.

She's definitely getting exclusive treatment.

I straighten to brush my fingertips along her clit after my body stops pulsing into hers, but I don't pull out quite yet.

And that sends her straight into the orgasm she needs, too.

God, it's fucking hot to watch her face as she comes.

Her eyelids are heavy as she moans my name, and she snags her bottom lip between her teeth as the climax plows into her. Her legs wrap around my midsection as I continue to fuck her slowly, and her back arches off the table as she comes.

She lets out a soft little sigh when it's all over, and eventually I have to pull out of her. I slide her panties back up her legs.

"Always happy to share an exclusive with you, Ms. Bailey," I say with a wink, and she giggles as she pulls her clothes back into place.

"I really should probably ask you a few questions. Are you ready for the rest of this week's OTAs?"

I grab a tissue to clean off my dick and head to my private bathroom while we talk. "I'm ready. I can't wait to get a feel for the energy and vibe this team will have going into our new season."

"What are you going to do with your four hours Thursday and Friday?" she asks.

"Well, I finally get to be out there with my players again, so we'll run some drills and start getting a feel for how each position works together." I emerge from the bathroom and perch on the edge of my desk.

She asks me a few more questions for good measure, things that weren't already covered in the press conference, and then she eyes me a little nervously.

"What?" I ask.

She clears her throat. "I need to tell you something."

I narrow my eyes at her. "What?" I repeat.

"I, um…I told Marcus about us."

My chest tightens for a beat. One more person knows. That's one more person capable to outing us. "You…what? I thought we agreed nobody except Sam."

"We did, but with the threats coming in from Rivera…I don't know." She shakes her head as her eyes fall toward the ground. "Marcus pulled me aside on Monday to ask me about the fight over the weekend. I came clean and told him about Rivera."

"Everything about Rivera?"

"No."

I sigh. "Okay. We can trust him?"

"We can trust him," she confirms.

"If you say so."

"Are you mad?" she asks. She glances up at me with a bit of fear, and I don't like that she feels nervous to hear my reaction.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm just surprised."

"He told me to be careful."

I nod. "We will." I move toward her and take her in my arms again. "It's our only choice."

And it's not hard to be careful when we barely get the chance to see one another. Over the next couple weeks, I really only see her at one OTA practice each week, and it's like a goddamn beam of sunshine bursting from a raincloud the moment I spot her.

This week was our voluntary minicamp. It's Friday night before the big charity ball that I'm honorary chair of—something that's taken up very little of my time, to be honest, but at least I know tomorrow I'll get to see her even though I'm attending with her best friend.

And she's been busy with her kid. Her lawyer informed her that in order to change the visitation rights with her ex, she has to file a motion with the court proving he's unfit to be with their son. So she's been fighting for her son while I've been working, and unfortunately we haven't had much time to connect.

I don't acknowledge her at practice. I can't. She's with the media, and I have my own work to do. We're installing new plays, practicing without contact, going through the motions. There's a lot to break down here, and I'm using every second I can on the field to make sure my team will be ready for camp next month. We're limited in what we can do thanks to the player's association—which is great to keep players safe, but it also puts in place restrictions on both time and the sorts of activities we can have players participate in.

Still, knowing she's there watching this gives me a different sort of perspective that I like more than I'm willing to admit. She gets it. She's not harping on why we never get to see each other. Instead, she has a life of her own, one that coincides with the things I'm doing, and as I think toward a future with her, I can't help but think that's one more thing that sets her apart from anyone else I've ever been with. She gets me. She gets my schedule. She grew up in this life, and she's a part of it now, too.

It"s refreshing. It's also scary as fuck since the chances of us actually achieving that future are slim.

OTAs are voluntary for players, but the majority of the team shows up because these are fucking football players. They're here because they love the game. Guys don't make it to this league if they aren't serious about it, and we're all putting in the work that comes with a new coach.

Some of our rookies are excelling, showing us what they're made of, and I'm excited to see more of it in training camp next month. It's the real start of the season for us even though we have these shorter sessions, and I'm ready for it to get underway. The anticipation is killing me already.

I should have plenty to do on a Friday night, but I'm beat to hell after minicamp this week. Three full days this week with players showing what they're made of, and with me being present for every fucking second.

It was both exhilarating and exhausting.

Jack invited me out for a few drinks to celebrate the week and recap, but I declined. We recapped a bit this morning at the office, and we can recap more Monday. It was a long week, and I need a night away before I gear up to take my girl's best friend to a charity ball tomorrow.

So imagine my surprise when a text comes through a little after six and I happen to be home.

Lorraine: Just dropped J off at my parents' for a double sleepover. Maybe we can have one too?

I chuckle as I read her text.

We haven't had a sleepover since the night she picked up Jonah from his dad's house and I snuck over to spend the night with her in my arms.

It's been far too long, that's for damn sure.

Me: I am ALL IN. Get that sweet little ass of yours over here NOW.

She sends me the red face panting emoji, and I chuckle at my phone.

And then I wait.