Chapter 28 Bennett
Bennett
Ihad never been more excited to get off a fucking plane in my life.
Usually, flying didn’t bother me. I liked the routine of it. The hum of the engines, the way the world shrank to a few dozen people hurtling through the sky, the quiet hours to think or watch films or just stare out at the clouds.
Diaz had a fear of flying. Dani got motion sick. The poor thing spent every flight or bus ride popping Dramamine like Skittles. But me? I’d always found it peaceful.
Not tonight, though.
Tonight’s flight had felt like four weeks of foreplay stretched into three hours of torture.
It had started somewhere over Nashville. I had turned my phone off for takeoff, but the second we’d hit cruising altitude and the Wi-Fi had kicked in, the messages from Bella had started rolling in.
Bella
Have a safe flight. Counting down the hours until you’re home.
The next one had come in a few minutes later, this time with an attached picture.
Bella
I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed your jersey.
She had taken it in her kitchen. Her hair was up in a messy bun to show off the eighteen-carat gold studs I had bought for her during her last day in Scottsdale. Bees, of course.
Sure enough, she’d also been wearing my jersey.
First my hoodie, now my jersey. I’d smiled to myself, already accepting that dating Bella meant that I would be making a lot more trips to the team store.
The messages had kept coming, each one more of a tease than the last. By the time the plane jerked to a stop at our gate, I was shifting in my seat, adjusting to hide the semi tenting my joggers.
Pink was only a few rows back, droning on and on about the proper order to put on socks and shoes—sock, sock, shoe, shoe. Obviously. He didn’t need to know that I was already hard, counting down the minutes until I got to fuck his sister again.
Even if she was the love of my life.
I stayed seated, pretending to scroll through my phone as the rest of the guys filed past, grabbing their gear from the overheads.
“Need a ride?” Pink asked, duffel slung over his shoulder.
“I’ve got my truck,” I said, forcing casual coolness. “But I’m right behind you.”
He nodded and kept moving, disappearing down the aisle. Thank fuck. My pulse was thudding too hard for a guy who’d just sat on a plane for three hours.
Notifications began flooding in the second I stepped on the jet bridge—one from my brother, a couple from my mom, a coupon code from my favorite sandwich place.
And one from Bella. Sent seventeen minutes ago, right as we’d been descending.
The thumbnail alone nearly made me drop my phone.
I waited to open it until I was in the privacy of the jet bridge. My heart slammed against my ribs when I did.
There she was, on her knees, facing away from the camera, wearing my jersey and only my jersey. Scratch that. She was wearing a pair of sky-high heels, too. Black patent leather.
How the hell had I never seen those shoes before?
The jersey rode up just enough to show the full curve of her bare ass. No panties, just Bella. Looking back over her shoulder with that small, wicked smile that always undid me.
I needed to get home. I needed to get to her.
The drive back to Rose City felt longer than the flight. Every red light was agony.
When I finally pulled into the shared driveway, Pink was waiting out front. Great. I skipped past him, making a beeline—pun intended—toward his sister’s townhouse.
“So,” he said, smirking. “That’s how it is, huh?”
I didn’t even try to deny it. “Yup, that’s how it is.”
He laughed, loud and easy. “As much as I don’t want to picture you defiling my baby sister, I can’t say I’m not thrilled to have the townhouse to myself tonight. Nessa’s got something special planned for us, and spoiler alert, it’s going to be loud and messy.”
“Don’t break anything.”
“No promises,” he dismissed before practically skipping inside.
My pulse was pounding in my ears. I walked the short distance to Bella’s door and knocked.
She opened it almost immediately and my brain short-circuited.
There she was, standing just beyond the threshold, wearing my jersey and that pair of black stilettos that made her legs look endless. The jersey was unbuttoned just enough to show the lace of her bra, the hem skimming the tops of her thighs.
“Welcome home, King,” she said softly.
I kicked the door shut behind me, dropped my bag like it weighed nothing, and took her mouth like I’d been starving for it.
“Fuck, Bella,” I rasped, breaking the kiss to trail my mouth down her neck. “What were you thinking sending me a photo like that when I was still on the plane?”
She moaned, nails scraping my neck. “I thought you might like it.”
“Like it?” I growled against her skin, sucking a mark just below her ear. “I nearly came in my pants . . . in front of your brother.” Her laugh nearly undid me. “Oh, you think that’s funny? Maybe somebody needs a spanking.”
She shivered, hips rocking against me. “Later. First, I want to show you something.”
Before I could protest, her hands were on my chest, pushing me back with surprising force until my knees hit the couch.
“Sit.”
I dropped down, legs spread.
“Bossy,” I teased, a grin already tugging at my lips.
“You love it.”
“I love you.”
She turned toward the chrome pole in the center of the room, heels clicking with every step. With a tap of her phone, music started playing from the speaker on the side table. Slow, sultry beats thrummed through the room, vibrating under my skin.
“I’ve been pretty busy the last four weeks,” she said, voice breathy but confident.
“Uh-huh.”
My pulse kicked up when she wrapped a hand around the pole and swayed her hips.
“I turned the spare room upstairs into a dedicated workspace,” she said, voice light, like we were just catching up over coffee. “I set up social media accounts and a website for Comb Sweet Comb. Oh, Nessa and I are putting together a honey and romance book club event at the distillery next month.”
I blinked, trying to focus. “That’s, um . . . cool.”
She nodded. At least, I thought she did. I was far too focused on that swerving thing her hips were doing.
“Mm-hmm. We’ve already sold out of tickets.”
I nodded again, forcing my eyes to stay on her face. “Sounds like a good time.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “You’re not listening.”
“I am,” I lied.
She laughed softly, pushing off the pole. “No, you’re not. Your eyes keep drifting south.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Can you blame me?”
“I thought you’d like hearing about my boss bitch business moves.”
“I do,” I said honestly. “You know I’m proud of you. It’s just a little hard to focus when you’re moving like that, looking like that.”
She smiled wickedly. “Then maybe I should give you something else to focus on.”
With that, she turned away from me, circling the pole with languid steps.
One hand trailed along the metal as her body moved like liquid.
The jersey shifted with every sway, hinting at the bare skin beneath.
She dipped low, her ass popping out in a teasing arch.
Then she rose smoothly, spinning once around the pole with effortless grace.
I leaned forward, completely rapt.
God, she was beautiful—every curve, every movement.
The way her hips rolled, the soft bounce of her breasts under the jersey, the long lines of her legs in those heels.
But it was her strength that stole my breath.
Her control. The power in her core as she held each pose, thighs gripping the pole, arms steady and sure.
This wasn’t just dance; it was raw fucking athleticism.
And then she jumped.
“Holy shit.”
Bella gripped the pole high and pulled herself up in a fluid climb. She inverted halfway up, body arching back in a perfect crescent, the jersey falling open to reveal the swell of her breasts spilling out of that bra.
And there, framed by her spread thighs, was her bare pussy. Flushed, pink lips and the faintest dusting of curls framing it like an invitation.
My cock jerked hard in my sweats.
She extended her arms in a graceful line. Damn, the strength that took, holding her entire body weight—upside down, no less—was unreal. I could see it in the flex of her quads, the tension in her stomach, the way her biceps popped as she supported herself.
She was fucking powerful.
And so goddamn sexy, I could barely breathe.
She spun slowly, once, twice, giving me the full view. Thick thighs made for crushing heads—well, only mine—her ass round and perfect, pussy glistening in the low light as she rotated. I groaned, palming myself through my pants without thinking.
“Christ, Bella,” I rasped. “Look at you.”
She smiled down at me, upside down, cheeks flushed from the effort, and then lowered herself inch by inch until her heels touched the floor again.
Yeah, I was going to fuck her in those heels.
“Show’s not over yet,” she whispered, sauntering toward me.
She shocked the hell out of me when she straddled my lap without hesitation, placing her back to my front.
Her ass settled against my erection, warm and soft through the thin fabric of my sweats.
She leaned back against my chest and started to gyrate.
Slow, lazy rolls at first, letting me feel every curve.
“Mmm,” she purred. “I missed this.”
Her hands reached back, threading into my hair, dragging my mouth to her neck. I kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin there, groaning as she rocked harder.
“Good girl,” I muttered. My hands slid up her thighs, gripping her hips to guide her movements. “You feel so fucking good.”
She hummed, arching her breasts forward as she rolled her hips in a slow figure eight. The friction was maddening. Her heat against my length, the way she teased without giving me what I really wanted . . . I was about to lose it.
I slid one hand up under the jersey, finding the soft swell of her breast. My palm cupped her fully through the lace, thumb brushing over her nipple until it pebbled tightly under my touch. The other hand slid between her spread thighs, fingers gliding through her slick folds.
“You know,” I mumbled against her neck. “I’ve been pretty busy myself the last four weeks.”
“Uh-huh,” she breathed, chasing the fingers playing with her pussy.
“I hit three homeruns, visited the Grand Canyon. Want me to tell you about it?”
“Sure. After you make me come.”
“Hm, I feel like you’re not focusing on what I’m saying, Arabella,” I teased, echoing her earlier words from the pole. “Your mind’s someplace else.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe a little.”
I stood, pulling her up with me. “Then maybe I should give you something else to focus on.”
Before she could respond, I scooped her into my arms, bridal style.
“Bennett!” She yelped.
“Hang on tight, baby. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”