Chapter 18
HAWK
High off of adrenaline after the win, and my near-brawl with that damn Boar, spending time at Waves felt like a punishment. Not that I didn’t like my teammates and our loved ones celebrating us. Of course I did.
But my body hummed, and all I could think of was taking Becca into the bathrooms and fucking her then and there. I refrained. Not just because it would be horrible for both our reputations if we were caught, but she deserved better than a quickie in a sports bar bathroom.
Now, finally, after what seemed like years instead of hours, we were home.
I barely managed to kick the door closed before I pulled Becca's t-shirt off over her head. It mussed her hair. She looked even cuter. My lips locked on hers. She unbuttoned my shirt. I let it fall to the floor.
I tried to undo her jeans. After struggling for a minute or two, I had to break off our kiss to look at what I was doing.
"Three buttons?" I growled. "What sort of punishment is this?"
She laughed as I flicked them aside, one by one.
My mouth found hers again. Luckily I was more adept at pushing her jeans down her hips than I was at unbuttoning them.
I pressed her lightly against the door and kissed her cheeks, her neck. She tasted warm and spicy, like cinnamon. I wondered how she'd react if I suggested eating ice cream or cream off her belly. That was a conversation for another time.
She moaned softly in my ear. The sound made my cock rock hard, just when I thought I couldn't get any harder.
I waited for her to kick aside her jeans and shoes, then grabbed her ass and picked her up. She wound her legs around me, so the front of her panties pressed against the front of my jeans. Only thin fabric between her pussy and my cock.
"Where did you come from?" I whispered.
I knew the answer. She was here all along, I just had to open my eyes and see.
She laughed softly. "When a man and a woman love each other very much…"
I leaned back to look at her and laughed. "That's a bit more biological than I meant."
She smiled. She wasn't wearing any lipstick, and had little makeup on. The natural look suited her. She was sexy as hell.
"I believe you know my origin story," she said softly.
"Yeah," I agreed. "I can't wait for the sequel. I hear it's even better than the first installment." I intended to have a starring role in it.
"It's awaiting some finalisations in the casting." She bit her lip and looked anxiously at me.
"I think I can help with that." I lowered my mouth to hers again, fully intending to eat her all up.
Without taking my mouth from hers, I held her tight and carried her like a precious package to her bedroom. I lay her down gently on top of the covers and sat beside her.
With my fingertips, I traced circles around her body, just gently feeling, memorising every centimetre so I could remember everything later.
"Roll over on your stomach." My voice was half-choked with need. When she did as I asked, I unhooked her bra and pulled it aside, then slid her panties down her legs.
"Nice shade of red," I said before I threw them aside. I gave her ass a little slap to match her panties.
She writhed and giggled. When she didn't object, I slapped her other cheek.
I peeled off my jeans and started to kiss my way down from the back of her neck to her cute little ass. I tickled one cheek with my tongue, before nibbling and gently biting her luscious flesh.
I slipped a hand between her legs and up to the wet warmth of her pussy. She parted her thighs to let me press a finger inside her perfect heat.
"You have the best pussy," I told her. I slid in another finger and fucked her a few times, marvelling at the way she felt, her response to my touch. She seemed to melt a little more by the moment.
Before she could come, I rolled her onto her back and scooted down to bury my face between her legs.
I already knew she liked it when I licked and sucked her clit, but I loved it every bit as much.
The taste, the feel, the sound of her moaning.
That, in particular, was the most beautiful sound I ever heard.
The closer she came to coming, the higher her voice got.
The harder I got too, until I ached to busy myself inside her.
"Hawk!" It wasn't quite a scream, but as crescendos go, it was one hell of a sound. She rubbed her pussy against my mouth and stubble, grinding while I sucked her perfect clit. Her breathing got faster and faster, her moans higher still. She was so close to coming, my balls ached with her.
I licked firmly, insistently. I wanted her to come. I wanted to be the one to make her do it. I wanted to know when she cried out with a rush of pleasure, it was because my mouth gave that to her. My tongue.
She gasp-moaned a couple of times before she arched her back and cried out, her head thrown back. Her muscles convulsed. Her swollen clit seemed to throb against my lips. Her whole body went rigid as she screamed out my name.
I kept on working her, keeping her on that high for as long as I possibly could. Minutes, hours, days, if I could.
Eventually, she let out a longer gasp and flopped down to the mattress, panting and sweating.
I kissed the insides of her thighs before I rolled her over and pulled her to her hands and knees. I ran my hands up her belly. Over her breasts. I palmed her taut, responsive nipples before moving up to her neck and around to her back.
"You are so beautiful." I ran my hands down to her hips and gripped them gently before I positioned my cock and slid into her warm, welcoming pussy.
Holy fuck. She felt so good. Better than good. I wanted to scream her name so loud they heard me up and down the building.
"So are you." Apparently done with letting me take the lead, she rocked her hips back until she was almost sitting on my lap, then up again. Happy to let her be the boss, I closed my eyes and helped to guide her hips.
Just before I came inside her, she pulled away from me and turned around.
"I want to see your face," she said.
I grinned. "This old mug?"
She chuckled and pushed me onto my back.
"Yes, that old mug," she said before she lowered herself onto me, her pussy enveloping my cock again.
Holy yeeessss.
She pinned my chest with her hands and set the rhythm and depth of every deliberate movement.
I watched her face, the flush of her cheeks, her half closed eyes.
I couldn't for the life of me figure out how I got so lucky.
I don't mean this, right now, but her. In bed, out of bed, out on the town after the game, all of it.
Another cliche here, but she was the total package.
Brains, beauty and hot as hell. And for some reason, she dug me too.
I was ready to pinch myself, to see if I would wake up, but not until we were done making love.
Wait, did I just think the L word?
Yeah, I did.
I smiled up at her, then half-closed my eyes. I gripped her hips a little tighter and let my orgasm wash over me, wash us both away.
I grunted, and she cried out again.
For a handful of minutes in time we were both lost in the moment, lost in pure pleasure and the enjoyment of each other and our bodies.
The wave crashed, pinned me harder to the bed, then the tide slowly receded, leaving only us, a treasure more precious than Waves.
Before her, I would have called myself a piece of driftwood. Now, I was done drifting. I was home.
When I woke, the sun was peeking through a gap in the curtains.
I blinked a few times to wake myself up.
Becca's place. No wonder I felt so comfortable. Her apartment was small, but homey. My house was big and, apart from a couple of rooms, looked as sterile as a magazine spread.
Still, I wanted to ask her to come over for dinner tonight and show her around. I wanted her in my world as much as I wanted to be in hers.
I might even cook. Okay, try to cook.
I put my hand out for her, but the other side of the bed was empty. Cold.
I sat up, but couldn't see her. She wasn't in the shower. Shame, I would have joined her in there.
"Becca?" I got up, found my boxers and pulled them on. For all I know, she might have company in the apartment. I heard no voices, but just in case, I was ready.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open the rest of the way and peered out.
"Becca?"
"In here," she said from the direction of the kitchen.
I stepped out to see her, red reading glasses on her face, eyes on her laptop screen. She was seated at the table. By the look of her damp hair and half a cup of coffee, she'd been up for a while.
"Hey." I poured myself coffee from the pot and went to stand where I could see over her shoulder. "What are you working on?"
She closed the laptop with a start. Her face turned pink.
"It's… It's just a little something. I was going to show you when it's done."
I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. "You wrote an article about my prowess in bed?"
She went a bit redder, but shook her head. "Not exactly, no."
"Great, because I wouldn't endorse that. Unless it's really, really flattering." I was joking, of course. Personal stuff was personal, and this was between her and I, and no one else.
"Can I see?" I waved the coffee in the direction of the laptop.
"It's not finished," she said. "No one has seen it." For some reason, that seemed important to her.
"You haven't told anyone I have a tiny dick, have you?" I gave her a sly smile, but my curiosity was piqued. And, honestly, my suspicion.
"You don't." She eyed my groin.
"True," I said smugly. "I'd hate to have to sue for defamation. Or libel. Whichever one says you made it up." I shrugged one shoulder. I left that stuff to the team lawyers.
"I wouldn't say anything about you that wasn't true," she assured me. She peeled open the laptop and turned it toward me.
The article started with the standard few words of introduction.
Who I was—for anyone who didn't already know—the team I played for and how various people shaped me into the person I am today.
The words could just about be copied and pasted from one article to another, although her phrasing made me sound more interesting somehow.
That was a good start.
I smiled, but the smile faded as I read on. There, on the page, were the details of my mother's illness, her death and how hard it all hit me. Some of it was what I'd told her, but other bits must have come from Vera and Brody.
The blood drained out of my face. With shaking hands, I set the coffee down on the table. I shook my head, my brow creased in a deep frown and took a few steps back.
"Hawk? Are you okay?" She reached for me, but I waved her off, palms toward her.
"Stop," I hissed. "Don't." I stared at the screen as though the words might change.
"What the fuck, Becca?" The words were a whisper. "I thought you got it. I thought you got me." Shit, I got that wrong and then some. She didn't have a clue. Not the first one.
"I—" Her face was pale. She swallowed audibly. Her eyes were wide with concern and tears. For herself, no doubt. She obviously didn't give a shit about me.
Her voice wavered when she spoke. "I thought it would help if you talked about it. You could influence so many…"
"Influence?" I echoed. "What the fuck do I do when I step out on the field? What do I do when I let people like you interview me?" I spat the words at her.
She flinched when I said 'people like you'. Should I feel like crap for being harsh? Maybe, but I was furious. More than that, I felt…
I felt betrayed.
She had taken something incredibly personal and painful and made it for public consumption. She might as well have described our sex life. Hell, she might as well have sold tickets.
Shit, had she recorded us to put online later? I suspected not, that would embarrass her, not just me. Although, she'd make a name for herself. A reality TV show would likely follow. She might be the next Bachelorette.
I shook my head to try to clear it. "What happened with my mother is…
" I could barely string two words together.
"Is not something I'm ready to talk about.
Someday, I might be, but not now." I sucked in a breath.
"I would have come to you, told you everything.
" I let out the breath through pursed lips.
Becca stood. I hardly registered the figure hugging jeans and tank top she wore. She looked incredible in that shade of red. Right now all I really saw was a woman I thought knew. Clearly, I didn't have a clue either.
"Hawk, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "My boss told me if I didn't run the story, he'd give it to someone else. I thought if I did it, it might be—"
"It isn't." I didn't know what she was going to say, but whatever it was, was wrong. "You will not give him that story. Furthermore—" I hit the top of the table so hard it sent a jolt of pain up my arm.
Ouch, dumbass.
I ignored my inner critic.
"If he runs any stories about my mother, any agreement with the National Daily is done. I'll give you your exclusives, whatever, but this is off limits." I closed my eyes and let the edge of the fury melt away. "I thought we had something good."
"We did," she said. A tear trickled down her cheek. "We do, I just… I'll delete it."
"Please do," I said coldly. On some level, I realised I was being irrational. I should talk about my mother and I would, but that would happen on my terms.
Period.
"Hawk—"
I shook my head. "It's done, it's over. I can't trust you not to do something like this again."
"I swear, I never meant to upset you. Vera said…"
"Don't bring her into it," I said sourly. I'd be talking to my cousin about this too. I had no more words, nothing. I was numb inside.
I stomped toward the door, wrenched it open and stalked outside. I slammed the door shut behind me.
"Fuck," I said out loud.
I turned around and knocked on the door. "Becca… I left the rest of my clothes inside."