Chapter 9
Nadia
The cold nightair feels good on my overheated skin and I take a deep, unsteady breath and try to get my bearings.
Mental bearings, not physical.
After Reese dragged Axel down the back hall, I took off, slipping out the door that leads to a small outdoor seating area and then ducked into the alley between the bar and the pizza place next door. The scent of burnt, greasy crust fills the air. There’s a small table with a couple of chairs behind the pizza place, the table littered with empty beer bottles and a full ashtray. A place for workers to hang out during their shift. I drop into one of the seats and take a deep breath, trying to get the scent and taste of Axel Rakestraw out of my head.
Easier said than done.
My lips still burn from the way he claimed my mouth. It was spontaneous but controlled. Hard and soft, skilled in a way that made me cling to him, desperate for more. Axel has all the qualities that I find sexy. The athleticism. The commanding presence. The confidence and swagger that comes from being the best. No matter how hard I try to forget it, I know what it feels like to have him inside of me. To have his tongue bring me to orgasm, and that kiss brought it all rushing back.
I tug at the front of my sweater, fanning myself.
When he’d been abruptly pulled away, my first thought had been the absolute need to get his mouth back on mine. But then I thought maybe it was Brent, and that brought another flood of confusing emotions. Hope? Anger? Fear? When I saw it was actually Reese, eyes murderously set on Axel, the feelings were instantly replaced by something else: guilt.
Axel’s nickname for me is scarily on target. I just can’t stay out of trouble.
I’m supposed to stay away from epic fuck-ups and men on the hockey team, but everytime I get near that sexy, tattooed, goalie, I fall right back into bad habits.
My phone buzzes.
Twyler: You okay?
Nadia: Just outside getting some air.
A shadow blocks the neon pizza light.
“There you are.”
Axel.
Just seeing him sets my skin aflame and my nipples tighten when he grabs one of the plastic chairs and drags it across the asphalt with a loud scrape. He sets it across from me, and I shiver when our knees touch.
“You’re cold,” he says, oblivious that my reaction is due to his proximity, not the heat. He shrugs out of his hockey jacket and leans over, wrapping it around my shoulders. I’m instantly engulfed back in the scent I’d been trying to escape from inside.
“Thanks,” I say, reluctantly snuggling into the warmth.
“I explained everything,” he says, leaning back. “I told him I was just giving Brent the signal to back off.”
“Good.” I nod and stare at my knees.
“Did I cross a line?” he asks. “Because if I did, I apologize–”
“No.” I look at him. At his handsome, dangerous, face. “Brent needs to understand that I’m not getting back with him. In any way.”
“Is that what he wants? To be with you?”
“Brent Reynolds wants his cake and to eat it too. I’m not stupid enough to think that he actually wants to be with me. He just wants to use me, that’s all, and if he can’t he’ll be content to make me miserable.”
I haven’t forgotten his threat of blackballing me. If my communications class is any indication, the message is out.
“You’re not stupid,” he says, giving me a hard look. “He’s a massive dick, T. Just an absolute piece of shit. You’re better than him.”
“Am I?” I ask, without thinking. “Because the no fuck-ups plan feels lonely. Confusing. Embarrassing that I want to be wanted, even if it comes with a bunch of strings.” I tilt my head and look at him. “But that’s not the worst part.”
“What’s the worst part?”
“That if he’d talked to me tonight, and asked me to go back home with him, I’m afraid I would have said, yes.”
Axel shifts, turning to me. The neon sign behind his head filters through his hair, casting it in a pinkish glow. I fight the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. He touches my chin and forces me to look at him. “I get it. I’m lonely too. I don’t trust myself to take an inch or I’ll go a mile, and screw it all up again. Kissing you in there got me harder than steel.” His tongue darts out and those bottle green eyes drop to my mouth before popping up again. “It’s the only time I’ve felt right all week.”
We stare at one another, his thumb sweeping under my jaw, giving me time to make the decision on my own. My body reacts to the simple touch, a sign of how deprived I feel. This is when I should walk. Stick with the plan. Deny how he makes me feel, but instead my lips part for him; opening in invitation.
He reacts instantly, but this time when his mouth meets mine, it’s slow and sweet, without the fuel of doing it for someone else. It’s between us and I don’t fight him when he lifts me up, dragging me onto his lap.
Straddling him, his hands smooth down my skirt to keep my ass covered, but holding me tight, making sure our bodies are flush. Fuck, he isn’t kidding about being hard. It’s painful, but the good kind, and I grind down against him wanting to feel him through the thin cotton of my panties.
He groans, breath hot against my mouth.
“This is a bad idea,” I say, unconvincingly, resting my hand on his shoulder.
“Is it?” He pushes the hair off my neck, laying a wet kiss against my throat. “Because it feels pretty damn right to me.”
We writhe against one another, fully clothed, our hot breath clouding in the cold air. Axel’s hands push under my shirt, fingers searching, only stopping when they meet lace.
“Your tits are perfect, you know that?” He pulls the lace aside, the pad of his fingers circling my nipple.
“Yeah, well, so is your body.” I lift his shirt, getting a peek of his abs. “It’s ridiculous.”
He grins, tweaking my nipple, and I cry out, the jolt from my nipples to my pussy electrifying.
The weeks of celibacy build into something frantic, the need to be felt, to be touched, bigger than anything else. Axel kisses me again, taking my breath from me as I start to pant. The friction between my legs, his hands on my tits, his tongue–
“Oh fuck,” he growls, thrusting into me. The seam of his jeans rubs deliciously on my clit and when he presses down on my nipples, the world turns upside down and explodes.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, collapsing into him. His hands are still clenched around my hips, dragging me against him, until he groans so deep it rattles in his chest.
“Jesus,” he exhales. “I just came in my pants. I haven’t done that since I was fourteen.”
We breathe together for a long moment, my heart and pussy throbbing like hummingbird wings. The sound of voices snap me back to reality and I pull back. “Oh God, I’m–”
“Don’t you fucking dare apologize, you hear me?” His big hand slides behind my neck, pulling my forehead to his. “Don’t feel guilty, or slutty or anything else. That was you and me in a safe space, got it?”
I nod, but I can’t help thinking we may have just had our biggest fuck-up yet.
GoalieGod:I think I got denim burn on my dick.
My eyes roll everytime Axel’s screen name pops up on my phone, but this time my skin also gets hot.
GoalieGod: How’s your pussy? Need some aftercare?
My pussy is… fine, a little sore, but overall pleased with getting some much needed relief last night. Although the idea of Axel checking up on me, gives me tingles all over my–
“Order for Bertha!”
The barista shouts out Twyler’s name–well her cat’s name–some weird inside joke between her and Reese. I shove my phone into my pocket and ignore the texts. Two girls are in line behind my roommate–sorority girls according to the letters on their crewnecks. One flicks a stare at me for a long moment, before rolling her eyes and leaning into her friend to whisper.
I’d try not to be paranoid, but there’s no doubt these girls have heard the news: Nadia Beckwith is blacklisted.
GoalieGod: But seriously, Reid has an industrial sized container of aloe vera if you need some…
I smile down at the phone, the sorority girls pretty much forgotten.
“So…” Twyler says, grabbing the ice coffee and a straw off the counter. “I hear you kissed Axel.”
“What?” Startled, my hand squeezes my cup of coffee, popping the plastic lid off and sloshing the hot liquid down the side. “Shit.”
“Nadia!” She frantically grabs a wad of napkins from the dispenser. “Did it burn?”
“No,” I say, ignoring the throbbing in my finger. “It’s fine.”
“Let me look at it.” She gestures. We’re still in the campus cafe, and she nudges me toward a chair. We both drop our bags and sit. Before I get my coat off she grabs my wrist, checking my hand.
“I mostly just made a mess,” I tell her.
“It’s a little red but I’m not seeing any blistering.” She frowns. “Give me a sec.”
She hops up and runs over to the counter, returning a moment later with a spoon. Popping open the lid of her coffee, fishes out an ice cube with a spoon and wraps it in a napkin before handing it to me. “Use that.”
“It’s fine, Twy.” I take the napkin and press it against my finger. “Thank you, though. You’re good at your job.”
“My internships with the hockey and basketball teams have taught me to be prepared for just about anything.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she shoves her straw into the lid of her ice coffee and then leans in. “So Axel.”
Crap. Well, that distraction didn’t pay off. What do I say? He laid a toe-curling, tongue sweeping, set my lady-parts on fire kiss on me in the middle of the bar? Oh, and then I crawled in his lap in a dark alley and rode him like a stallion?
“I promise it was no big deal,” I tell her. “He just saw Brent come into the bar and wanted to give him the idea that I wasn’t available.”
“No better way to prove that than with another guy’s tongue down your throat.”
I eye her. “You’re taking this very well for someone who made it very clear I’m not allowed to mess around with anyone from the hockey team.”
She takes a sip of her drink and sighs happily at the caffeine hit. “Reese told me Axel was just looking out for you.”
Was he? Was he looking out for me or just looking to get off. Not that I’m judging him. What Axel and I have going on doesn’t have the lopsided situationships of the other athletes I’ve chased. First, I’m not chasing him. At all. Second, we’re using one another. I mean, he asked before he kissed me.
No other guy has done that before.
I watch her closely. “And you’re okay with that?”
“What I’m not okay with is Brent showing up and bothering you.” Worry lines crease her forehead. “Have you thought any more about reporting Brent and CJ?”
The expression on her face is hopeful, leaving me no doubt to what Twyler wants me to do. “I still don’t want to.”
“I know. But what they did to you,” her voice lowers even more, “secretly recording you while you were having sex and posting it online on a paid subscription site… it’s not okay.”
I know she means well, but every time she talks about it. Every time I remember it, it brings it all back and I hate it.
“They took the video down.” I press the red area where the coffee hit my finger, trying to feel something other than shame. “That’s all I wanted.”
“They’re also supposed to leave you alone.” She stirs the straw. “And last night makes twice he’s been at the same place as you.”
“The first was a post-game party. He had more of a right to be there than I did. And there’s no reason to think I’d be at the Badger Den.” I wink, trying to lighten the mood. “Hockey players aren’t my thing, you know that.”
I’m not sure why I add that on. I guess I just don’t want any more drama. Or maybe I want to pretend that Axel isn’t getting under my skin. But most of all, I think that I know that even if Twyler is okay with me kissing Axel, she sure as hell wouldn’t be okay with me dry humping him in the back alley.
“I do, which is why when Reese told me you two were kissing I was surprised. But then I figured you guys may have just been inspired by us.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Using a kiss to distract an ex? That’s straight out of the Reese Cain playbook.” She points across the room and gets a dreamy look on her face. “Happened right over there.”
“Oh,” I nod, playing along, “right. That’s probably exactly what it was.”
She checks her phone. “Shit, I need to get across campus.”
“Same. I’ve got a project meet up.”
We stand, gathering our bags and coffees.
“Listen,” she says as we approach the door, “if you need to use Axel as a buffer between you and Brent right now, I think you should.”
“Wait, what?” I look at my friend to see if she’s joking. Nope. She looks completely sincere. “You think Axel and I should hang out together?”
“He’s a good guy,” she shrugs, “and he’s dealing with a lot, being on probation and everything. You both probably need a friend right now.”
A safe space.
“Maybe.” I reach for my scarf and remember I never got it back after class. “Although, I’m not sure he’d be into you offering him up to be my protector like that.”
“Oh, he’s into it.” She zips up the front of her jacket and smiles. “It was actually his idea.”
Nadia:Just had an interesting conversation with Twyler?
GoalieGod: Was it about teaching you deep tissue massage? Because I volunteer if you want to practice.
Nadia: It was about you offering to ‘protect’ me from Brent.
GoalieGod: Safe space, darlin’.
Nadia: That was a one time thing.
GoalieGod: Not if I have anything to say about it.
The shiver that runs down my spine has nothing to do with the cold, November air, and it doesn’t fade when I step into the business building.
Eric and I finally agreed to meet up to discuss our project at one of the study rooms provided in the communications department. He’d been cool about meeting here, and I felt better about not going somewhere private. Boundaries. It’s something I’ve been working on… well, apparently other than when it involves Axel Rakestraw.
When I get to the room, Eric’s already there, sitting at the table with his laptop open. He looks up and smiles.
“Hey,” I say, stepping into the room. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late.” He pushes out the chair next to his. “I was early, so I figured I’d start some of the research.”
“Well, that’s different,” I say, peeling off the layers and taking my own things out of my bag.
“What do you mean?”
“The last time I did a group project in this class it was with Austin and Rocky and neither of them even opened their laptops once.”
“Oh yeah, I had to work with Darius, who don’t get me wrong, is a great guy but…”
“Dumb as a bag of hammers?”
“Let’s just say…” he taps his chin, “unmotivated for academic pursuits.”
“Oh you’re good.” I laugh. “Let me guess. Planning a career in sports related PR?”
He winks. “Nailed it.”
Whatever tension I felt eases a little with the easy banter between us. Eric’s a nice guy and to be fair, I never actually heard Eric say anything demeaning about me with the other guys.
“So how do you want to go about this?” I ask, ready to get started.
“I’ve been looking over the instructions…”
Ultimately, we split up the work–he’ll do most of the research and I’ll write up the paper. Then we’ll present it together.
“We can do most of this by email, don’t you think?” I say.
“Yeah, that should work,” he agrees. “Oh fuck.”
I glance over and see the annoyed look on his face. “What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”
“I forgot something,” he says. “Your scarf. I’ve had it this whole time and I keep forgetting to bring it to you.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I can get it later.”
“I’m the worst at that. Like, I set it right by the door to remind me to bring it with me and I still fucking forgot.” He gives me a small grin. “I promise I won’t be a flake on our project.”
“I’m not worried about it,” I say. “Who needs a warm neck anyway?”
He laughs. “You know, I could bring it by your place if you want. You live over in Shotgun, right?”
It’s common to know who lives in the community right off campus. There are a ton of parties over there, specifically at the Manor. But my skin prickles anyway.
“It’s okay. I’ll get it from you in class.”
“Or, if you’re not busy, we can go back to my place and grab it now.”
I force myself to look at him. Eric’s expression is innocent enough, with his wavy blond hair and innocent hazel eyes. But are they innocent? Does he want something more? That’s the problem, I can’t tell, but my body reacts, pulse ticking erratically, and a wave of nausea sloshes in my gut.
I slam my laptop shut and stand. “I need to go.”
“Wait, what’s happening?” he asks, watching me fumble for my things. “Are you mad about something?”
“What’s happening is that whatever those guys told you about me, isn’t true.” Not anymore. “So if you think you can get me alone and I’ll give you a blow job or you can come all over my tits, you’re wrong.”
“I, uh,” he stammers, ears turning red. “I didn’t think that. At all.”
“God, whatever,” I sling my backpack over my shoulder. My heartbeat bangs in my chest and ears. “I heard you talking to Austin and Rocky after class.”
Guilt flickers across his boyish face. “Shit. That was them. I promise–”
“Let’s just do this project, present it, and turn it in.”
“Nadia–” He looks like he wants to melt into the ground. Yeah, join the club, Eric. Whatever he was going to say, he swallows and adds, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s fine with me.”
His expression is sincere, and suddenly I feel like an idiot, and I do what idiot’s do–run like hell. My hands are full with my coat and backpack and I keep my face down, not wanting anyone to see my tears.
That’s why I slam straight into a brick wall.
A brick wall with hands that grip me by the arms and hold me upright.
“Woah, slow down, darlin’.”
Son-of-a–
“Seriously,” I hiss. “Are you stalking me?”
“I’m a communications minor. I had class.” He looks me over and I avert my gaze, not wanting him to see the tears. He lifts my chin and scowls. “Who the fuck made you cry?”
“No one.”
He smears a tear across my cheek with his thumb. “Bullshit. You running from someone?”
I shake my head, and realize his touch made my heartrate shift from fear to something else. Something that makes my body warm and flush with the memory of the night before. “What are you doing right now?”
“Other than kicking someone’s ass, nothing.” His jaw tics. “Why?”
I take a deep breath and confess, “I need a safe space.”