First Kisses Are Never Forgotten

Chapter 21

AARON

I lean against her door frame with my hand over my head. Waiting for her to finish her reports.

I don't know if she could feel my bubbling anger or not, but I hope she does. I hope she feels it and just gives me one look, so I could tell her why. Tell her it's her fault I am this angry.

She is wearing my jersey.

Mine!

I couldn't focus, I couldn't do anything except look at her during the whole match. I don't even know how we won, it was a damn miracle.

I almost tripped twice while going for my spike serve, and I almost botched a couple of sets, which needed to be perfect for them to score.

I could think about anything except for her. Addison wearing my shirt had me acting like a moron on court today. A horny moron.

I don't know why it is affecting me so much seeing my name on her like this. It is so...territorial. I felt like she was mine during that game, and I didn't want to end that feeling.

She is still wearing it now, in her office. I would do anything to rip that shirt off and bend her over her desk and fuck her from behind. Hearing all the screams she'll let out. Making everyone here know that she's mine, and I'm here. God, I really would do anything to do that.

I know she likes to be called dirty names and bossed around in bed, but apparently she controls me like a dog with a leash by wearing just a freaking jersey.

She closes her reports and gets her bag. She moves to the door and finds me not moving. Her eyes leave a heated trail all over my body when she stares at me leaning on her door. She likes how this feels, I can see it in her flushed cheeks.

I move and start walking to the elevator. We get in and we stand side by side in silence. My anger grows more each second.

I can't take it anymore. I pull the red button and stop the elevator.

"What the hell are yo-"

I push her toward the elevator wall and hold her throat in my hand, tightly. She gasped from my fast movement, but I cut it off.

"Why?" She looks at me with innocence. She likes playing the innocent, respectful doctor a lot, but she is anything but that.

"Why did you wear this?" I growl when her scent hits me. God, I missed that smell. Her addictive scent rushed straight to my cock.

"Dios Mío, podría drograme solo con eso." I mumble to myself. "Why are you killing me?" I say through gritted teeth.

"Do you know how many sets I almost botched?" I squeeze the jersey from her waist. "Because of this."

I look down at the jersey and to her eyes again. "My name on your back. My number on your chest." I slip my hand under her shirts and feel her shiver under my touch. Her small gasp makes my cock push itself more against my zipper.

Her skin is so hot and she's starting to sweat and breathe harder, faster.

"Wasn't it enough that I can't forget every moan you made, the way you sounded when you came or the way you tasted. You had to wear my name on you too? You had to show me how fucking fitting it is for you, how perfect it is on you."

"Diaz." She breathes the word sweetly, and I can't stop my hand from sliding up her body and cupping perfect, perky breasts. They are the perfect size for my hand; big, perky breasts with hard nipples ready for my mouth and tongue.