Chapter 21
Watching Elliot win leaves me feeling conflicted. I'm relieved from seeing him perform like the goalie everyone knows he can be. But I'm frustrated by the fact that he is now holding me second-hand accountable for maintaining his success. Sure, I agreed to hang out with him one more time, but I’m not going to be the person to make the first move.
My team and I finally wrap up the postgame interviews. I’m finally free to head back to my hotel when my phone buzzes. Elliot’s phone number lights up the screen. Just opening the text makes my heart race.
: 7012 E Jackrabbit Rd.,
Scottsdale, AZ 85253.
I’m leaving the rink now. Meet me
in an hour.
: Unless you
want to make it even
easier and just ride
with me?
Ziggy: Wow, straight to the
point. No hello?
: Hello! You want a
ride? I’m waiting.
Ziggy: Very funny. I’m not
riding to your house
with you. Why would
I give you any extra
opportunity to kill
me and get rid of
my body?
: Jesus, Ziggy.
That is dark.
Ziggy: What’s your plan
for tonight?
: Do I really need
to spell it out? You coming
or not?
Ziggy: No, I’m not a
booty call.
Ziggy: You’re impossible.
: What, I’m just
going to wham,
bam, thank you
ma’am you.
Ziggy: I hate you
so much.
: And you’re stalling.
Ziggy: Fine. I’ll be there
in an hour
: Don’t be late.
Ziggy: You better make
it worth my time.
: Oh, I will.
Elliot’s audacity makes my blood boil. Am I just a convenience for him? A damned call girl? I’m fuming as I toss my phone into my bag, trying to focus on getting back to my hotel room. This is insane. I shouldn’t be doing this, but the idea of it also sends a thrill through my veins. I try to ignore the growing curiosity, but my thoughts keep drifting back to our messages. Each passing minute only heightens my anticipation despite the irritation simmering deep inside. Damn him and his audacity. The clock is ticking, and I have less than an hour to decide what to wear.
Elliot’s performance tonight was spectacular. He exuded this ferocious intensity on the ice. It’s that same intensity that draws me in, even when I know it’s a terrible idea. My mind keeps replaying our first time together, the undeniable chemistry. Maybe that’s what makes me cave. Maybe it’s the thought of his strong hands on me again, or the way he felt inside of me that leaves me breathless.
By 9:45 PM, I’m pacing my hotel room, unable to decide what to do. My rational mind tells me to stay put, to ignore his blatant summons. But my body aches for him, for the release my traitorous self only seems to want from him. If I’m going to do this, I might as well fully commit. I change into the most extreme lingerie that I packed with me, and my best boots. With a frustrated groan, I grab my long coat and slip out of my room, heading toward the elevator.
The ride to Elliot’s house is a blur. My heart pounds in my chest. I can feel my palms growing sweaty. I hate myself a little for giving in so easily, but there is no denying the magnetic pull Elliot has on me.
I reach his house, get out of my Uber and hesitate. Stuck between wanting more and running away. I force myself up to his door, my hand hovering over it. Taking a deep breath, I knock. The door swings open almost immediately. There he stands, looking like he was waiting by the door the entire time.
He doesn’t say a word; he just steps aside to let me in. The air between us is charged, sparking with unspoken tension that seems to ignite the moment I cross the threshold. As soon as the door clicks shut behind me, Elliot turns, his eyes raking over me with a predatory hunger.
“You’re late,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.
“I had a hard time deciding if this was worth my time,” I clap back, my voice laced with defiance. His eyes darken at my challenge, and he steps closer, the space between us shrinking to nothing.
“You came, didn’t you?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “So, you must think it is.”
Before I can retort, his mouth is on mine, a bruising kiss that leaves me gasping. His hands are everywhere, pulling the ties of my coat loose. “Are you not wearing any clothes for me?” Elliot whispers.
“You wanted a call girl, so you’re going to get one,” I tell him with a smirk.
Elliot presses me closer, lifting me off my feet and wrapping my legs around his waist. Keeping his lips caressing my neck, he carries me through the house, straight to his bedroom. He tosses me down onto the bed, and he gingerly slips my boots off before he has me pinned beneath him, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my chest.
“Do you know how hard it is to concentrate with you in my head?” he growls against my skin. “You drive me fucking insane, Anatife.”
“Good,” I pant, arching against him as his hands roam over my curves. “Maybe now you know how I feel.”
His answer is a low, guttural sound that sends shivers down my spine. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes blazing with a heady combination of anger and desire.
“You’re mine tonight,” he says, his voice rough with need. “Every inch of you.”
Elliot’s mouth crashes to mine, needy and aggressive, claiming my tongue with his. He grips my chin with his hand tightly, moving my face to the side, pressing kisses down my cheek, to my ear, and down my neck. His movements aren't sensual. They are passionate to a degree, but for each ounce of passion, there is an aggressive fire to him.
His mouth explores every contour of my body, leaving no part untouched. Each touch sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through me, causing my body to respond in ways I’ve never experienced before. I don’t know what he will do next, but every movement elicits an intense reaction. His caress makes me arch toward him, craving more. His kisses, so passionate, make me tremble with desire.
He slides lower and lower down my body before dropping to his knees on the floor. His face is eye level with where I lie. His warm breath tickles where I want him the most, but I’m not going to give in that easily. As he spreads kisses up and down my thigh, I press my foot to his chest. Pushing him further back so he can’t reach me.
“I want to hear you beg for it,” I say, giving him a sly smile.
“Beg?” Elliot looks up at me, confused. “Beg for what?”
“You better beg to get a taste of me. I’m not giving it to you without a little effort.” I answer him with a devilish grin.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he says, trying to push past my leg. Tongue ready to lap at my pussy.
I press back with my foot harder. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I say, “What did I tell you? Beg.”
With a resounding sigh, Elliot’s entire body heaves back as he silently curses me. Only making me enjoy this more.
“S’il vous pla?t, je vous en supplie. Laisse-moi go?ter ta douce chatte. J’en ai désespérément besoin,” he says, pressing his palms into the back of my things with a hulking force.
“In English, jackass. I have to be able to enjoy understanding you beg.” I quip back.
“Ugh, fine,” Elliot says in exasperation. “Please, please let me taste this sweet pussy of yours.” His hands grip tight, spreading my thighs further apart as he talks. “I am desperate for a taste. Please let me taste you on my tongue.”
Satisfied with his plea, I wrap my heels around his neck, pulling his mouth closer to my center. Taking the not so subtle hint, Elliot dives in and devours my aching pussy.
Whispering into my arousal, “Tu as si bon go?t, je pourrais mourir dans ta chatte et être un homme heureux.” I have no idea what he is saying, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t focus on anything other than the feeling of an orgasm building. He works my pussy with his tongue, rubbing his nose along my clit. That ugly mustache of his feels surprisingly good between my thighs. I, under no circumstances, can ever tell him that, though.
My inner walls clench as an orgasm rips through me. Elliot's tongue guides my way through. With a cocky smile, he pushes me up a little higher on the bed, climbing on top of me, laying his body weight on my leg. He moves my other leg to rest on top of his shoulder as he leans on his elbow, inches away from where he left me dripping.
He moves his fingers through my arousal, spreading it up to my clit. Taking the sensitive nub between his lips, he tugs on it, causing me to buck underneath him. His hand pressing firmly on my hip, he slides it down and presses two fingers deep inside me, pumping them in and out as he plays with my clit between his lips. I start to scream out in a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation. He adds a third finger, stretching me. My body reacts to his movements as he brings me to the brink of climax again.
Without even giving me time to come down from a mind-blowing orgasm, Elliot adjusts himself above me, grabbing a condom from the bedside table, rolling it down his thick shaft.
Suddenly feeling very nervous, I joke, “If I didn’t already know better, I might get scared that you might break me in two.”
Elliot looks down at me, like his own version of a mustached devil. “You have nothing to worry about. Your body was made to fit mine.”
He thrusts into me, fully seating himself flush with my hips. He gives me a moment to adjust before he starts a punishing pace, thrusting in and out of me. He plays with my nipples, pulling them with his teeth, pinching them. His mouth connects with mine, pulling my bottom lip into his before releasing it and moving his attention back down my neck. The intensity of it all leaves me breathless, my mind spinning as he lays claim to my body in a way that is both possessive and intoxicating.
His dominance over my body draws one final orgasm from me before he growls out, reaching his own release. Every touch, every kiss, is laced with wild, desperate hunger. He moves with a precision and control that speaks of years of training, his body a finely tuned instrument of pleasure and pain. And I am his willing participant, caught up in our mutual desire.
We lose ourselves in each other, the world outside his bedroom ceasing to exist. The way he touches me, the way he moves inside me, it’s like he's trying to exorcize his demons through our connection. And maybe he is. Maybe we both are.
When neither of us can go anymore, we lie tangled together, our breathing ragged and our bodies spent.
“That was the last time,” I say into the darkness.
Elliot laughs in response, “Whatever you say.”
I watch him, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling steadily. In the stillness, the reality of what we’re doing settles over me like a heavy blanket. This is more than just physical. It is a desperate need to connect, to find distraction in each other, even if only for a night.
Elliot is still the enemy, the man who makes my life a living hell. But he is also the man who gives me the most intense pleasure I’ve ever known. I want to see where this twisted, complicated path leads us. Can I hate him and still let myself feel every maddening, intoxicating emotion he stirs within me? Because as much as I want to deny it, I know I need him just as much as he needs me. And that realization is both terrifying and exhilarating.
Waking up next to Elliot the next morning is more awkward than anticipated but not as unbearable as I feared. The early morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his sleeping face. For a brief moment, there is a strange sense of calm, but it doesn’t last long. As soon as he opens his eyes, the bickering begins.
“You’re hogging all the blankets,” he mutters, still half-asleep.
I roll my eyes, pulling the sheets tighter around me. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bed hog, I wouldn’t have to.” He gives me a look that is both annoyed and amused, and just like that, the familiar tension is back.
I sit up in the bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “So, I’m going to go.”
I get out of bed, pulling on my clothes from the night before. I really should have thought about the walk of shame when wearing nothing but lingerie and a coat over here. The room sits with an awkward silence as Elliot watches me. I grab my bag and head toward the door without looking back.
“I’ll see you around,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
The morning sun greets me as I step outside, a reminder that the world keeps turning despite the chaos in my life. As I make my way back to my hotel, this feeling of unease builds. The unease turns to anticipation. This arrangement is risky, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Time to start my day and see where this wild ride will take me next.