Chapter 32
DRED
Hemi
Watering Hole in an hour?
Rix
I can make it!
Hammer
Obviously you know I can make it.
Apicture of the two of them standing in the office together follows.
Shilpa
Please enjoy each other while I enjoy my sleeping nugget.
A photo of a tired but happy Shilpa snuggling her passed out baby follows.
Tally
I have dance practice. Miss you. Sending my love!
Lexi
I’m in.
Dred
I wish I could, but proposals are calling my name. Eat some potato skins in my honor!
A new message pops up from Lexi in our private chat.
Lexi
You’ve been working on proposals for days. No pressure either way, but are you sure you can’t take a little break?
Dred
I’m almost finished. Maybe later this week, though?
Lexi
Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.
Dred
Thank you. I appreciate you.
I toss my phone on the desk in the library at Grace Manor and flop back in the chair, removing my glasses so I can rub my tired eyes.
Even if I hand over everything in my bank account, almost every program I have will have to be cut after this loss of funding.
I’ve been scrambling since we got the news, and it’s been a full-time job creating proposals for all of them.
There’s no guarantee the committee will see the value in them.
I haven’t said anything to Connor. If he pushes, I’ll tell him everything, and then his already tumultuous relationship with his family will be even more strained. I worry about the ripple effect on Meems, and his sisters.
Last night when he came home, we spent time with Meems, and then I dragged him straight to bed. I needed the escape and the connection. It seemed like he needed it just as much. And sex is a great way to keep our mouths and bodies busy and away from difficult topics.
My head is a mess, and my heart is already way too involved.
Two hours and another finished proposal later, Connor appears in the library.
“I thought I’d find you in here.” He’s fresh from practice, dark hair styled and wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved Henley, sleeves pushed up his forearms revealing a sliver of the story on his skin.
He looks like he stepped out of an advertisement. He’s also carrying takeout.
I close my laptop. “Just taking care of some work things.”
“Still playing catch-up?”
“Yeah.” I smile, but it feels stiff.
“You seem stressed.” He sets the takeout on the desk, eyes moving over me.
“Work can be that way this time of year.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
I reach for him, and he comes to me.
His palms curve around the armrests, and he leans down until our lips touch. “Besides distract you with kisses.” He backs up, brows pulling together. “Or maybe it’s you distracting me.”
The problem with letting him in is that eventually he’ll be able to read me in ways that will make it hard to hide things from him. I run my nails along his scalp, something I know he loves. “Did you bring me my favorites?”
“I did. Although they’re my favorites, too.”
“What about Meems?”
“She went to a friend’s to play bridge, which means I get time with my wife.” He kisses me again. “Are you hungry?”
“For food or you?”
“Food first. You can have me later.”
“Such a meanie.”
“So awful that I want to make sure you’re nourished before I take you to bed and make you come until you’re delirious.”
I nod solemnly. “The absolute worst.”
He smiles and I laugh, relieved that the time apart hasn’t changed things and glad for the break from the incessant worry.
We unpack the takeout containers and settle in to eat.
My appetite has been off since the day his father stopped by the library, but Connor went to the trouble to get all my favorites, and he’s right—I won’t be able to focus on anything if I don’t eat.
“How was practice?” I pour dressing on my mango salad.
“It was good. This season feels different.” Connor spoons tamarind curry over his rice.
“Different how?” I ask.
He taps his chopsticks on the edge of his plate. “Like I’m part of the team.”
My heart squeezes. “And you haven’t felt that way with the Terror before?”
“I haven’t felt that way anywhere before,” he admits.
“Not even when you were playing for New York?”
He shakes his head. “Having Kodiak on my side made it easier, especially since he was the team’s golden boy, but I was still a problem. And then I was traded to Toronto and became even more of a problem.”
“Because of Flip.”
“Partly. But I have a reputation for pushing people’s buttons, on and off the ice. I’m a good distraction.”
“What’s changed?” I ask, keeping my voice casual. He’s opening up, letting me in.
He drops his head, eyes on his plate. “I want to be more than that.” Connor clears his throat. “My entire life I’ve played this part. I’ve always been the outsider. It’s all I’ve ever known, on and off the ice.”
“But not anymore?” My stomach flips and twists. These feelings I have for Connor keep growing.
“My parents believe I chose this career to spite them, and I’ve fed into the belief that all I can be is the bad guy. But I want to leave more than a legacy of problematic behavior. I want to deserve my place on my team, and it’s not just me who’s affected anymore.”
“You mean Meems?”
“I mean you. If you have to be married to me, at least you can be married to a player whose team doesn’t hate him.”
I set my plate aside and take his from him, moving it to my desk. I shift from my chair and settle in his lap, linking my fingers behind his neck. “My sweet villain.”
“Not sweet at all. I want these things for entirely selfish reasons.”
“And what reasons are those?”
“It makes you soft for me.” He threads his fingers through my hair and kisses the edge of my jaw.
“Putty in your evil, plotting hands,” I agree.
He pulls my mouth to his and licks inside.
I’m suddenly ravenous for him. Needy and desperate. Also, I’m terrified that if this conversation continues, I’ll tell him my own truth, and that could change everything.
I slip out of his lap to kneel between his parted legs. His eyes darken as I run my hands up his thick thighs and reach for his belt.
“What are you doing, little menace?”
“What does it look like?” I unbuckle his belt, pop the button, and pull the zipper down.
“Like you have plans for me.”
I slip my hand into his boxer briefs, my fingers closing around his length.
He’s already hard. I free him from the fabric and stroke him.
His eyes heat, and he watches me with rapt fascination as I leave open-mouthed kisses on the shaft, working my way up to the head.
I meet his hot gaze as I take him between my lips, licking him, sucking him.
“You’re so beautiful.” He skims my bottom lip with his thumb as I fuck him with my mouth, reveling in the way it feels when he looks at me like this—like I’m his world, like I’m the only thing he wants.
He frames my face with his hands, eyes flaring as he holds me immobile, his cock halfway down my throat.
“Connor, I didn’t realize you were home. I was coming to see if Dred needed anything before I retired for the night,” Ethel says from what sounds like the other side of the room.
I freeze, but I’m hidden behind the massive desk. Ethel has no idea I’m on my knees sucking off my husband.
He strokes my cheek with his thumb, the other hand leaving my face.
“We’re fine,” he grinds out. “Thank you, though. She just stepped out for a minute.”
“Ah. I see. Well, tell her I said good night.”
I apply suction.
His fingers press firmly against the hinge of my jaw. “I’ll do that. Have a good night, Ethel,” he says through gritted teeth.
“You too, sir.”
Several seconds pass before his hands are on my face again, and he slides out of my mouth, tipping my chin up to kiss me roughly.
“Did you want Ethel to know you were trying to swallow my cock, darling?” He rises, pulling me with him, and strips me out of my shirt.
His lips ghost mine, fingers curved around my jaw.
“Should I bend you over your desk and fuck you right here, with the door wide open, where anyone can walk by?”
I moan against his mouth.
He grins darkly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He spins me around, pulls my leggings and panties down, and moves me into position.
A thrill shoots through me as he gently runs his hand down my spine.
My chest and stomach meet the polished wood surface, and I turn my head, cheek pressing against discarded papers.
Our half-finished dinner plates are a few inches away, takeout containers next to them.
He slips his fingers between my already trembling thighs. “Such a pretty, wet cunt.” He pushes two fingers into me and folds over me to kiss my cheek. “I think I’ll eat you later, when we’re in bed and I can take my time. How does that sound, wife?”
“Yes, please.”
“Such a sweet little menace.” His fingers withdraw, and he quickly rolls a condom down his length and sheaths himself inside me in one smooth stroke.
His body covers mine, his mouth at my ear.
“You feel so fucking good, Mildred. So wet and hot and perfect.” He slips a hand between my legs to rub my clit.
I come, spasming around him, groaning his name.
“Louder, darling, they can’t hear you in the kitchen.”
The heat of his chest leaves my back, and his fingers dig into my hips as he fucks into me, hard and fast. My pussy makes wet sucking sounds with every thrust, and it’s all I can do to hold on and enjoy the ride as I careen into bliss, moaning his name through another orgasm.
And then he’s close again, lips at my ear, whispering dirty praise as he comes.
We don’t make it to the bedroom before the next round.
Instead, I end up on my back on the desk with Connor on his knees, my legs thrown over his shoulders as he buries his face between my thighs and makes good on his promise.