14. Berkley
Love This Blush
From the outside, the Airbnb looked like a log cabin. It wasn’t particularly fancy or large, its small driveway barely big enough for Brent’s truck. Surrounded on three sides by trees, it faced a quiet street, with only a single neighbor that I’d seen some way up the road.
Brent stepped to the door adorned with an evergreen wreath and said, “Cover your eyes.”
I did as I was told, straining my ears as Brent pressed the code into the keypad. When it beeped, he ushered us inside.
“You can uncover them now.”
The cabin’s interior was warm and cozy, exactly the kind of place I’d expect to find in the woods of Michigan. The dark, exposed log walls were brightened by a whitewashed fireplace, a large, cream-colored sectional sofa, and a wooden ladder stacked with white fleece blankets. The living area flowed seamlessly into the kitchen, where a giant granite-topped island defined the boundary of the space, and candlelight sparkled off the stainless steel appliances and white cabinets. Off the living area was another door I assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. A sliding door off the kitchen opened onto a small covered patio where the hot tub was located.
A fire was already burning in the hearth, and a bottle of wine sat waiting for us on the kitchen island.
“Brent…”
“Do you like it?” The nervousness in his tone was apparent, and he turned away from me to open the bottle of wine, pouring two glasses.
Crossing the room, I slid my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his back. “It’s beautiful,” I said into his shirt. “But you didn’t have to do all of this for me!”
“I know,” he said, turning to smile down at me as he handed me a glass of wine. “But we rarely get the chance to be completely alone. I didn’t want to have to share you with anyone tonight. This way, we can relax. Just you and me.”
“Thank you,” I whispered and kissed him. In an instant, our tongues tangled, and his hands slid beneath the hem of my sweater. Only a loud growl from my stomach forced us apart.
We took our wine into the living area, and Brent created a cozy nest of blankets on the floor, where we curled up, backs to the couch, with our wine and a tray of meats, cheeses, fruits, and veggies.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Of course.”
“I feel guilty being here. I feel like I should be studying or something.”
Brent squeezed my hand. “If anyone deserves a night off, it’s you.”
“Thank you for this,” I said again.
I tilted my head in invitation, and he kissed me again, a sweet slide of his lips against mine. I sighed happily when we parted.
“Did you ever finish your degree?” I asked, nestling closer into his side and popping a grape into my mouth.
“I did. I graduated in absentia with my class in 2015, actually,” he said.
“What’d you major in?”
“Business…and finance.”
I sat up and turned to look at him. “You double majored?”
Brent shrugged. “My dad always told me I needed something to fall back on if hockey didn’t work out. I knew even if I never made it to the show, I wanted to be involved in hockey somehow, so I double majored in business and finance. Seemed like both of those things would set me up nicely in the future. And now, when hockey’s done, I could start my own business or own a team or something. I’m just glad I had an extra year of eligibility. It gave me another year to play, and it made my course load a lot lighter.”
I straightened fully and crawled onto his lap. “You mean to tell me that you’re this hot, you’re an insanely talented athlete, and you’re stupid smart? My God, Brent. Leave some for the rest of us.”
His grin was sheepish. “You’re no slouch in the looks or intelligence department either, my dear.”
His mouth was on mine again, and every nerve ending in my body lit up. Lord, I could get addicted to his kisses. In fact, I was pretty sure I already was.
We didn’t talk for a while after that, content to relax in each other’s arms. Brent asked me about my childhood, about my life at Michigan State, and even pried the full story of Lee and our epic breakup out of me.
“He gaslit the shit out of me,” I told him. “I’d heard from a friend that he was cheating on me, and when I confronted him, he turned it all back on me. Said he couldn’t believe I didn’t trust him, and that he couldn’t be with someone he couldn’t trust. He broke up with me through text. And then, the next time I was home, I went to his place to get some stuff I’d left there, and the girl he told me not to worry about had already moved in with him. It was…fucked up, and it nearly killed me.”
“I’ll never hurt you like that,” Brent promised. “Never.”
“I believe you,” I said, offering my mouth for another kiss. “And what about you? What about your last relationship?”
“Ashley,” he said with a grimace. “We broke up the day I signed with the Warriors. She wanted more from me than I was willing to give her. The money, the fame…basically everything you could care less about.”
“I feel like there’s more to it than that.”
“She wanted a ring,” Brent said, raking a hand through his hair. “The day I signed with the Warriors, she showed up at my place, bag all packed, ready to follow me wherever. But it wasn’t me she was following, you know? It was my name, my status. For a long time, I’d been ignoring it, but that moment was like stepping into the sun after spending years in the dark. I saw everything so clearly. And I realized that relationship wasn’t really a relationship at all. When she looked at me, she didn’t see someone she loved. All she saw was dollar signs.”
“I guess it’s a good thing you found me, then” I said cheekily, though Brent’s eyes softened.
“It’s the best thing that I found you,” he whispered against my mouth. And then, “What do you say we put on some music and get in the hot tub?”
“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in a while, Beej.”
“Perfect,” he said, kissing me again. “You put the music on while I change, then you can do what you need to do.”
I took a second to connect my phone to the cabin’s sound system via Bluetooth. When I opened my music app, “Hood Go Crazy” by Tech N9ne blasted into the night. I turned the volume down, but couldn’t help dancing around a little when I searched for something more appropriate. When the song ended, I turned on my OneRepublic station.
I jumped when Brent snaked his hands around my waist. “Nice moves you’ve got there, Blondie,” he whispered in my ear.
I turned to face him, cheeks heating with embarrassment. “How long were you watching?”
“I came out of the bathroom around the start of the second verse.” He darted away as I attempted to smack him. “Don’t worry, I enjoyed the show,” he added with a smirk.
I stuck my tongue out at him and quickly ran into the bedroom. He caught me easily and tackled me onto the bed, landing softly on top of me.
“You do that again and I’m going to cut it off,” he said.
“You wouldn’t.”
I tried to move, but he had every part of me pinned down. We’d barely touched since arriving and still, the hard length of his cock pressed into my thigh, nudging dangerously close to my center.
“Try me,” he dared. “I’m a hockey player, baby. I have a mean streak.”
“You don’t have a mean bone in your body,” I said, sticking my tongue out again.
“I’m warning you!”
“And I repeat…you wouldn’t dare.” I giggled as he playfully bit my nose. “If you cut my tongue off, kissing me wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”
Lifting my head, I pressed my lips to his. When he deepened the kiss, I bit and pulled on his bottom lip, nudging them apart, slowly licking my way inside. Before I knew what happened, he’d rolled us so I was on top, my knees resting on either side of his torso. The change in angle had his cock straining against his shorts, as if it were desperate to reach me. I shifted a little atop him, and his head brushed against the seam of my pants, right against my clit, which throbbed in response. My little wriggle had Brent choking on a breath, and he gripped the back of my head, tugging me closer. Our tongues danced together. Brent fisted a hand in my hair, pulling my head back to nip at my exposed neck.
“I knew you were trying to take advantage of me,” he said against my skin, grinning wolfishly when I pulled away and sat back on his thighs.
“I definitely was,” I admitted.
“Well then, let me give you a couple pointers.”
“Oh?”
“First of all,” he said, his hands diving under my sweater, fingers tickling the skin of my stomach. “You’re wearing too much clothing.”
“I feel like that’s a problem you can fix.”
With a wicked grin, he gripped the hem of my sweater and pulled it off, tossing it across the room. He ran one of his long, thick pointer fingers over the lacy edge of my bra cup, raising goosebumps on my skin.
“Do you just have an endless supply of sexy lingerie?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the slopes of my breasts and the pale pink lace that covered them.
“I like pretty underwear,” I said, driving my fingers into his hair and tugging until he met my eyes. “I have it on good authority that the panties match. Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
I unhooked my bra and shed it, then I threw myself backward. Brent wasted no time reaching for the fly of my jeans, working down the zipper and pulling them free. I spread my legs, loving the way his gaze darkened as he took in the scrap of lace covering my pussy.
I knew with certainty that I hadn’t had as many sexual partners as him, but knowing that—and knowing what we were about to do—somehow didn’t freak me out as much as I expected. Being with Brent came naturally to me. Not for one second had I ever felt the need to force anything or pretend to be someone I wasn’t to keep him interested. The older I got, the more I realized I needed a man who took me at face value and appreciated me, ugly parts and all.
Brent was proving to be that man.
His hand blazed a path up my left leg and, without waiting for my permission, without giving me any warning at all, he fisted his hand in the lace and ripped my underwear from my body. The sting at my hips was a distant sensation compared to the way he looked at me now, at how my pussy clenched, completely bared to him.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered.
“Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?”
“Oh, this is gonna be a good fuck,” Brent said, a devilish grin splitting his face.
“Brent!” I scolded, a blush creeping to my cheeks. “Be serious.”
His gaze softened. “Berk, you’re beautiful.”
Then he moved so he hovered over me, near enough to kiss, and I couldn’t resist running my hands over the expanse of his smooth, solid skin. His abs lightly jumped under my touch, and I relished the knowledge that I had unfettered access to this absolute perfect example of the male form.
He was mine.
The muscles of his back bunched as I lightly scraped my nails up the curve of his spine, and he gripped my earlobe with his teeth in response.
Digging my hands into his hair, I arched into him, grabbing fistfuls as I pulled his mouth to mine. The moment our lips touched, Brent dropped his weight and ground into me. Twin gasps escaped us at the sensation.
I needed him so much closer.
“Shorts. Off. Now.”
Brent moved away and stood, hooking his fingers in the waistband and dropping his trunks to the floor.
“Holy fuck,” I said, echoing his earlier words. “How are you even real?”
Brent laughed, standing unselfconsciously in front of me, every perfectly sculpted inch of his body on full display. The same dark hair that dusted his pecs picked up again below his belly button, a happy trail drawing my eyes over the deep vee of his tapered abdomen and waist, leading straight to his cock, which stood at attention, impossibly large and ready for me.
“You forget I’m a professional athlete,” he said. “I get paid to look like this.”
I shook my head, dragging my eyes back up to his. “Technically, you get paid to score goals and shit. You have no right to be this hot.”
He shrugged and leaned back over me, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to my chest, teasing my nipples with the tip of his tongue. “And you have no right to have skin this soft,” he said against me. “My god, Berkley. You’re fucking stunning.”
My cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that because you’re about to get lucky.”
He moved away, setting his hands on either side of my head and nestling his hips between my thighs. “Absolutely not. I want you so bad right now I feel as though I might come apart at the seams. But if you told me you weren’t ready, I’d back off, and I would still think the world of you.”
My blush deepened, and he pressed a kiss to the apple of my cheek.
“Love this blush,” he said. “Love it even more when it spreads across your chest when you come.”
Fuck. This man. I’d never get enough of his mouth.
His biceps shook with the effort of holding himself back, and I was honestly about ready to burst myself. Still, there was one thing I wanted to clear up first.
“I think we need to discuss something.”
Brent’s brows creased. “Okay, anything.” Despite declaring moments before that he’d back off if I asked, he dropped onto his forearms. Then he dipped his head and lazily swirled his tongue around my nipple. I groaned in response, gripping fistfuls of his hair.
“I just…birth control,” I said, all words save the essentials leaving me with his mouth on my body.
“I have condoms.”
“I have an IUD,” I told him. “I get annual exams, and my results from the most recent one came back clear. I—we…not if you don’t want.”
“You’re telling me…” he said, shifting slightly so his palm could graze the length of my body, the heel of it settling on the mound right over my clit, “that you’re going to let me fuck you bare?”
I could only nod.
“I haven’t been with anyone in an embarrassingly long time,” I admitted quietly.
“Fuck, Berk,” he said. “I haven’t been with anyone since well before I met you, and we get tested before the start of the season. Mine all came back clear, too.”
“Then we’re good.”
“Do you need—” His words cut off when his fingers dipped inside my pussy, finding me drenched and ready. “Guess not.”
“Please,” I breathed. “I need you inside me. Now.”
Brent groaned, shifting slightly so the head of his cock nudged my entrance. He grabbed both of my hands and held them above my head, leaning down to kiss me. He shifted to get his knees under him, bringing my thighs up with him. His tongue swept into my mouth at the same time he pushed into me.
My back arched off the bed, straining to meet him, to take him further. I loved the way I stretched to accommodate him, the sensation just this side of pain.
The good side.
“Holy fuck,” Brent said, dropping his head to my shoulder as he moved in and out, pace increasing with each stroke. He let go of my hands to grip my hips, burying himself deep and stilling. It was almost too much, having him fully inside me, the sting of the stretch easing to pleasure that arced through my entire body, turning my limbs liquid. “Berk. I’m really not going to last long this first time.”
I reached down to grab his ass, sinking my fingers into his glutes, urging him impossibly closer. A rumble emanated from deep in his throat, a low sound that set my skin on fire.
I was the one undoing him like this, and the knowledge made me feel fucking powerful, like a goddess. “Then don’t.” Swirling my tongue along the column of his throat and gently nipping at his shoulder, I said, “Come for me, Brent.”
No further encouragement needed, Brent pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into me, over and over, setting a punishing rhythm as he neared his release.
I was merely along for the ride, knowing full well it would take more than this to push me over the edge, but loving the feel of him inside me nonetheless.
Watching him come undone so quickly was a high all its own, and it had that pressure increasing deep in my core.
And leave it to Brent to keep proving me wrong about my own body, because, impossibly, when he came suddenly with a groan, my orgasm ripped free, and I followed him off the cliff. Taken entirely by surprise, I could do nothing but hold onto him as I cried out his name.