The Night the MVP Walked In On Me

Afternoon sunlight bled through my heavy blackout curtains, turning the steam in my Bellevue apartment a hazy gold. I tightened the belt of my champagne silk robe. The fabric slipped against my bare skin, doing nothing to hide the heavy curve of my breasts or the dip of my waist. Twenty-three years old, and everyone still treated me like a kid with a baby face.

Everyone except the man on my television.

I stared at the screen. Seattle's home game replay. Number 7 drove into the paint, sweat making the sharp lines of his jaw and massive biceps gleam under the arena lights. Ethan Cole. Twenty-five, league MVP favorite, six-foot-seven, and the boy who grew up next door. My so-called older brother.

"Fuck," I whispered, my throat going dry.

My fingers curled into the collar of my robe. Watching his absolute, aggressive control on the court made my core throb. I shouldn't be doing this.

I pulled my laptop onto the bed and clicked the hidden folder. The video loaded instantly. The guy on screen had Ethan's exact build—massive shoulders, a narrow waist, and thick, corded veins popping on his forearms as he slammed into the woman beneath him.

My knees gave out. I sank against the headboard.

The silk robe parted. I reached for the pink silicone vibrator on my nightstand. It was already warm from my hands. I flicked the button, the low hum buzzing loudly in the quiet room.

"Just pretend it's him," I muttered to myself.

I pressed the vibrating tip against my clit, then slowly pushed it inside my wet pussy. I bit my lower lip hard. On screen, the guy pinned the woman down. I imagined Ethan's giant hands pinning my wrists, his heavy body crushing me into the mattress, fucking me with that same ruthless athletic power.

"Ah..." A soft moan slipped out.

My hips bucked upward on their own. The robe fell completely open, exposing my flushed skin. I squeezed my thighs together, then spread them wide, chasing the intense friction.

The front door lock clicked.

The sound stabbed through the apartment. A spare key. Only one person had it.

Panic spiked, but the orgasm was already rolling through my nerves, making my muscles sluggish. I scrambled to slam the laptop shut and yank the toy out.

Ethan Cole walked straight into my bedroom.

He wore a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants. A small paper bag dangled from his massive hand—my expensive essential oils, misdelivered to his penthouse next door.

He stopped dead in the doorway.

His dark eyes locked onto the laptop screen. The porn audio blasted, loud wet slaps and the woman's screaming moans filling the space. Then, his gaze dropped.

My robe was completely open. My legs were spread wide. The pink silicone toy hummed inside my dripping pussy.

All the air left the room.

"Ethan, wait—" I lunged for the computer.

My bare foot caught the edge of the rug. I slipped, tumbling backward into the small armchair near the bed. The narrow armrests trapped me.

Ethan didn't say a word. He crossed the room in two massive strides.

He forced his knee between my thighs, pinning my legs far apart. His six-foot-seven frame cast a dark, towering shadow over me. The angle forced the vibrator deeper, the buzzing vibrating right against my sensitive nerves.

My chest heaved. I stared up at him, paralyzed.

His rough thumb brushed against my swollen lower lip. He pressed down, forcing my mouth open.

"You get off watching this shit?" His voice was a harsh, gravelly scrape.

I tried to shake my head, but no sound came out.

"Answer me, Lily."

"I was just... watching the game."

"The game." Ethan let out a dark, mocking laugh. He nodded toward the laptop. "Looks like a real competitive sport. You like watching him fuck her like that?"

"Shut up," I whispered, my face burning.

His eyes dropped to my crotch. The muscle in his jaw ticked. He reached down and wrapped his huge hand around the base of the pink toy.

"If this fucking piece of silicone isn't getting the job done," Ethan growled, shoving the toy an inch deeper. "Want to try with me?"

My spine arched instantly. I tried to squeeze my legs shut. His knee felt like a steel beam, locking me open.

"Ethan, stop," I whimpered.

"You don't want me to stop."

He pulled the toy halfway out, then slammed it back in. His thumb found the power button and cranked it to the highest setting.

"Fuck!" I screamed, my fingers digging into the chair's upholstery until my knuckles turned white.

"Are you fighting me right now?" he demanded, leaning closer.

I couldn't form words. Tears stung my eyes. My body betrayed me, trembling and pushing up into his hand with every brutal thrust of the toy.

"Tell me to leave, and I will," Ethan challenged. "Say the word, Lily. Tell me to get the fuck out of your apartment."

I just sobbed, a broken, messy sound. My breasts heaved, my hard nipples entirely exposed to his burning stare.

"Can't say it, can you?" he taunted, his voice dropping an octave.

He braced his free hand on the back of the chair, trapping me completely. The scent of my rose body wash mixed with the heavy, slick smell of my own arousal. I saw a muscle twitch under his eye.

He pumped the vibrator faster, grinding the vibrating base right into my clit.

"You're fucking soaking wet for a guy who looks like me," Ethan muttered, his eyes dark and wild. "Admit it. You want me to fuck you just like that guy on the screen."

"I want you," I sobbed out, the shame burning my throat. "Ethan, please."

"Please what? Use your words."

"Make me come. Fuck, please."

"You want my fingers inside you instead of this plastic garbage?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Say my name again."

"Ethan. Ethan, please."

My toes curled. My thighs shook violently. The orgasm built, a massive wave ready to crash and drown me. I was seconds away from completely shattering around the toy.

A sharp, obnoxious ringtone blasted through the room.

Ethan froze.

The phone in his sweatpants pocket kept ringing. He glared at it, then pulled it out. The screen flashed: *Manager - EMERGENCY. Away game moved up. Assemble NOW.*

His chest rose and fell in a massive, jagged breath. He stared at my flushed face, then down at my soaking wet pussy and the toy still buried inside.

He swallowed hard.

Ethan yanked the vibrator out of me in one smooth pull. He tossed the slick, buzzing silicone onto the rug. It landed with a soft thud.

He stepped back, taking his heat and his shadow with him.

"Clean yourself up." He gritted his teeth, his voice completely raw. "I'm leaving."

He turned on his heel and walked out. The front door slammed shut.

I sat collapsed in the armchair, my legs trembling uncontrollably. The deep, aching emptiness inside me throbbed. For twenty years, he was just the boy next door. Today, he had completely dominated me, and the most terrifying part?

When he came back from this road trip, I knew exactly what he was going to demand from me.