21. Berkley
Not God, Just Brent
“Berk?” Brent yelled.
“In here!” I shouted from the kitchen, then moved into the doorway so he could see me. Instinctively, with one look at him, I knew what he needed from me in this moment.
He needed to forget for a while, and I’d be all too happy to distract him—to distract us both.
Brent covered the distance between us in three long strides and swept me into his arms, his mouth on mine in an instant. The kiss was bruising, designed to brand himself on my body, to fuse us together so everything outside of our connection ceased to exist. He moved through his apartment on autopilot, his lips never breaking from mine as he navigated us through the living room and down the hall.
The look in his eyes when he dropped me on his bed—wild, pupils blown wide with desire. He looked half-crazed, and I knew this wouldn’t be the slow, sweet love making of the last month.
This would be frantic fucking, and I’d let him use my body however he needed. To chase that darkness in his eyes away, I’d happily be his plaything.
“Strip,” he commanded, one hand reaching between his shoulder blades and tugging his shirt off in one smooth movement, his muscles rippling deliciously with each jerky, barely controlled movement. When his hands moved to his belt, I tore my eyes away and rose to my knees. Momentarily, my sweater joined his shirt on the floor, my bra following shortly after. Then I reclined and got my leggings as far as my hips before Brent, already naked, lost patience and took matters into his own hands.
His cock jutted between us, sleek and hard, moisture already beaded at the tip. I clenched my thighs in anticipation, surprised by how wet I already was, my arousal conjured simply from watching my man’s control ripped to shreds.
Brent watched me with stormy eyes. “You like this, don’t you? You like seeing me wild.”
I nodded, biting my lip as I opened my legs. His hands blazed paths up my thighs, spreading my pussy open, his fingers instantly coated with my desire.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Look how wet you are. I’m not even going to have to warm you up, am I? You’re going to take this cock in one thrust aren’t you?”
My heart rate kicked up with his filthy words, my chest heaving, and he smirked.
“Let’s see, shall we?”
I nodded emphatically, and Brent chuckled darkly.
“My dirty girl.”
Then he slid home, and I took him all at once, exactly like he’d predicted.
“Look how fucking perfectly you take me, Blondie,” he said, his hips slowly shifting back and forth. “I can’t think when I’m not with you. I want you all the time.” Hooking both hands behind my knees, he pushed them back and wider The way he watched where we joined should’ve made me blush, but I’d be damned if I didn’t feel myself growing wetter around him.
“You’ve got me, baby.”
“Hold these,” he said, gesturing for me to replace his hands with my own. “Open wide, Berk.”
I did as I was told, and he dropped his own hands onto the mattress on either side of my head.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” he told me.
“I don’t want you gentle,” I said, driving my fingers into his hair and gripping the strands, yanking his head back so I could lick a path up his throat. “I want you just like this. My feral, wild boy.”
With a wicked grin, his hips slammed against me with reckless abandon, every single muscle in his body rippling in time with his thrusts. Sweat beaded on his temples and along his collarbones, and I lifted my head to catch a stray droplet with my tongue.
My release built quickly as Brent branded that impossibly deep spot inside of me, hitting it each and every time he thrust in. My hands were everywhere; I needed his skin against my palms, and he shifted enough to straighten my legs and hook my knees over his shoulders.
“Brent…” I moaned. He was so much deeper like this, folding my body in half with every single pulse of his hips. I could only hold onto his forearms, corded with muscle and shaking from his efforts.
It was almost too much. Too much pain perfectly balanced with pleasure slowly radiating in waves from deep inside me. Too unrestrained, too reckless. Too fucking perfect for words. All I could offer was my body and whispered pleas to keep going and don’t stop and right there, baby.
He gave me all of it, his hurried strokes the kind of pace only an athlete could manage without collapsing. Only his single-minded focus and intimate knowledge of my body could get me there so quickly, could have me unraveling beneath him. And when I was right on the edge, moments away from going over, Brent dropped his hand between us and rubbed my clit in time with his thrusts. Fast, jerky movements that drove me higher and higher and higher.
“Come,” he growled.
So I did.
My entire body went taut, Brent’s name caught in my throat, before everything released in a rush. My scream echoed around the room as he tore me apart, his own roar of release distant compared to the pleasure wracking my body. Every inch of me from head to toe spasmed, my eyes rolling far enough back in my head that I swear I saw stars. And Brent continued to pump us through it, slow, lazy strokes from both his cock and his fingers, designed to wring my orgasm for all it was worth.
When I finally stopped shaking, when he stilled and pulled free, I opened my eyes.
“My God,” I said, offering him a dazed smile.
“Not God,” he said proudly as he turned onto his side and drew me into the circle of his arms. “Just Brent.”
“Well, Just Brent, you are amazing,” I said, nipping and kissing his jaw. “Feel better?”
His responding chuckle shook both of our bodies. “Much.”
“If you want to talk about it, we can.”
Brent shook his head, his stubble rasping against my cheek. Then he ran his hand down my leg and hooked my thigh over his, reaching between us and lining his cock up with my entrance. I couldn’t fathom how he was already hard again, or how I was ready and willing to take him once more, but when he shifted for a better angle and pushed in on a long, slow stroke, I moaned in response.
“I don’t want to talk.”
We did end up talking, though conversation was stilted, constantly interrupted by Brent’s insatiable need to be buried inside me. I knew he was chasing demons away, but they’d come knocking eventually, and I wasn’t the type of woman to let him bury his head in the sand forever.
Especially not when my own happiness was tied up in these rumors just as much as his was.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” I said finally, gasping out the words as my chest heaved from our most recent joining. “But…we can’t fuck forever and forget the world exists.”
“Why not?” Brent asked, trailing lazy patterns over the skin of my stomach. “I like being in this bubble with you.”
“I love this bubble,” I told him honestly, “but we’ve both got responsibilities.”
“It’s weird to think I might not be here next week.”
Weird didn’t even begin to cover it. To me, the prospect of him being traded was downright devastating. As a professional athlete—even though he’d spent his entire career in Detroit—on some level, Brent has been emotionally prepared for this kind of thing to happen. He’d given Detroit seven amazing years, leaving his entire body, heart, and soul on the ice every time he played. But player moves and contracts were business decisions. There was nothing personal about it, despite the concrete block that had settled on my chest.
It sure felt personal.
“Have you talked to anyone about it?” I asked.
Brent shook his head. “I was with Mitch when you called, but we didn’t exactly chat after. I just left and came home to you.”
Where we’d spent the better part of the last ten hours alternately sleeping and fucking.
“I just don’t understand,” I said quietly, burying my face in his chest. His arms tightened around me, and I settled against him, trying to fight off the anxiety clawing at me.
“It’s not fair,” he agreed. “But…nothing is set in stone yet.”
“But if you do get—”
“Don’t say it,” he said, pressing a finger against my lips, then replacing it with his mouth. The lingering kiss stole my breath. I could feel his pain, his worry, and his fear. “It’s a bridge we’ll cross if and when we come to it. Not a moment before. Otherwise, the what ifs will kill us.”
I rolled away from him and sat up, grabbing a pillow and clutching it to my chest. “I’ve never been here before,” I reminded him.
“Well, neither have I.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve spent your entire career mentally preparing for this possibility. You knew this could happen to you one day. I…”
How did I explain this to him in a way that didn’t make me seem needy and clingy? I’d always prided myself on being a strong, independent woman. Somehow, over the course of the five months I’d been with Brent, some of my stubbornness had ebbed away, making room for him, allowing him to bear some of my burdens. Loving him meant softening, compromising. Things I’d never been good at, but things I’d been trying—and, I think, succeeding at—for him.
Brent shifted to sitting and tucked a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. When he’d arrived home all those hours ago, his eyes had been so dark they were nearly black. Now, even in the dim, predawn light, I could see they’d cleared, returning to their normal bright blue. Eyes that, as long as they held mine, made me forget everything around me.
But the world continued to spin without us, and eventually, we’d have to face reality.
As much as he didn’t want to talk about this, I thought we needed to.
“What is it, baby?” He cupped my cheek, brushing a calloused thumb reassuringly over my soft skin. “Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind.”
Emotion clogged my throat, but I pushed past it. “I just got you,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to lose you now.”
“Berk…” Brent’s gaze softened, his tone full of affection. He pried the pillow from my hands and dragged me onto his lap, his hands coming to my hair, anchoring my head in place as he spoke his next words. “Listen to me very carefully, my love: you will not lose me. No matter what happens over the course of these next days, I will always be yours.” Gripping my hand in his, he placed my palm flat against his chest, and I felt his heart thump steadily beneath my touch. “This heart is yours forever.”
“But what if you do get traded? What do we do then?”
I’d done it. I’d spoken the taboo word into the space between us, and there was no taking it back.
I braced myself for his reaction, and when he spoke, it wasn’t at all what I’d expected.
“Would you come with me?” he blurted.
Stunned into silence, I didn’t respond for a long while.
Suddenly, I was reminded of the conversation I had with my brother on Christmas Eve. I’d promised Logan I wouldn’t go making decisions about my future with Brent in mind. But that was before. Now…now, everything was different, and my life without Brent, my life would’ve been darker.
“Yes,” I said. I waited for panic to overtake me, but I felt nothing but peace. The decision was as easy as breathing. “If you get traded, of course I’m coming with you. We’d have to do long distance while I finish my JD, but as soon as I graduate, I’m hopping on the first flight to wherever you are.”
Relocating would be difficult, and I didn’t even want to think about leaving my family or I’d start crying. But…I could survive anything as long as we were together.
Brent inhaled deeply when I finished speaking, and when he exhaled, I could tell he was much more relaxed.
“I can survive anything as long as you’re with me, Berk.”
I smiled and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I was just thinking the same thing.”