I didn’t know what to do or say around Owen.

After I got home from his apartment, what had happened really began to sink in. I had done what I hadn’t wanted to do, given in where I’d wanted to stay strong. I had known what I was doing, and I’d wanted it, but it was such a big risk.

He would be fine if we got caught, but I was expendable. Really, they were giving me a huge opportunity here, and I repaid them by sleeping with their up-and-coming star.

That was just bad form.

I was stressed all the next day at work. I went through our usual routine, but I kept it professional even when he wanted it to be more.

But every time I touched his body, I felt something. It was a stinging spark rolling through my spine, a deep and dark feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew what it meant, but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to give in to myself, no matter how badly I wanted it.

Monday passed and Tuesday passed, and I managed to bite my tongue around him. I managed to not say what I wanted to say, even though I wanted to say it badly.

I wanted to tell him that the feeling of his fingers deep inside me was something I’d never experienced before. I wanted him to know that I was dripping wet every time I touched him, that all I thought about was him fucking me rough, his strong hands gripping my hips as his cock slammed into me.

I wanted him to know that I was a soaking, dirty girl for him.

Tuesday night, I was alone in my apartment. As I sat there watching crappy reality TV, feeling tired and trying not to think about Owen, my phone rang.

I answered it without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Were you just thinking about me?”

Of course it was him.

“No,” I lied.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“I thought I told you I wanted to keep this professional.”

“I’m at the training facility right now. I was thinking about getting some extra work in tonight.”

“I remember what that meant last time.”

There was a pause. I could picture the big grin on his face.

“It means the same thing this time.”

I bit my lip. I liked how forward he was. I liked how he didn’t pretend like he didn’t want me. He told me what he wanted and wasn’t afraid of that.

“Send a car,” I heard myself saying, surprised by the words.

“See you soon.”

I sat back on the couch and crossed my legs for a second. I knew what I was doing, but I did it anyway. I knew, even when I pretended not to.

I got up and put on my work clothes. I knew that was stupid and that I wasn’t fooling anyone, but I did it anyway. The car was waiting for me outside by the time I was dressed and ready.

I sat in the back, nervous as hell as the car drove me over. Idly, I wondered who the driver was, and if he suspected anything. But the drivers were probably paid well and didn’t dime out the athletes.

I got out of the car and walked into the facility. The place was empty, and I headed down to the training room. The lights were on when I walked inside.

“Owen?” I called out.

“In here.”

I headed toward the back. As I got closer, I heard the jets of the hot tub. I walked into the back room and saw Owen sitting in the hot tub, grinning up at me.

“Get in,” he said.

I stood at the edge and had to make a decision.

I could pretend like this was just another professional business call. I could pretend like I was there to help rehab his knee. I could do what my rational brain was telling me to do.

Or I could do what I wanted to do. I could do the thing that I knew I really needed.

As I stared at Owen’s smirking face, his muscular body wet and covered in tattoos, I knew what choice I was going to make.

I slowly pulled my shirt off, all the while staring at his smirking face. He didn’t look away or even act surprised when I took my bra off, then my shorts, and finally my panties. I stood there, completely naked in front of him.

“Get in,” he said again.

This time, I obeyed. I slowly lowered myself into the hot water.

I had made my choice. I knew what I wanted. I wasn’t pretending anymore.

He pulled me into his lap and kissed me hard.