Chapter 18 #2
“Oh, God, oh my God…” She makes a low keening sound, and her body quakes with the orgasm.
Her pussy clenches around my cock, and she sobs as sensation rockets through her.
I hold her hips, pounding into her as she cries out, the orgasm relentless as it drags her under. I don’t pull out when I come this time.
She sags against me. We’re both covered in sweat. Her body convulses every few seconds, and she makes these little hiccupping whimpers when it happens.
I cup her cheek again, my hands shaking. My stomach feels like it’s bottoming out. I pull back so I can see her face. She looks beyond exhausted. Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes.
“Fuck, Bea.” I brush them away, panic taking hold. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop? I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Her tongue drags along her bottom lip. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“I made you cry again.” Every time it makes me want to stab myself in the eye.
Her hand brushes over her cheek and drops to her lap. “Not hurt tears. Orgasm-relief tears.”
“Oh.” I smooth them away, still not liking their presence. “Fuck. I thought I pushed you too far.”
She shakes her head. “I knew you wouldn’t.” Her fingers drift along the edge of my jaw. “I would like you to kiss me now, please.”
I slant my mouth over hers and wrap my arms around her. This kiss is penance, languid strokes of tongue. A soft apology. Eventually I pull back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely okay. But walking might be a challenge for the next couple of days, so I guess it’s good your first game is an away one.”
I laugh, relieved, and cover her mouth with mine again.
She hums and runs her fingers through my hair.
That she’s gentle with me after I was so rough makes me feel like an even bigger asshole. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I would have told you to stop if it had been too much, but it wasn’t. I’m glad I could be what you need.”
“I don’t deserve you.” I drape her arms over my shoulders and pick her up.
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Where are we going?” she asks against my lips.
“Shower. I want to clean you up.”
Half an hour later, we’re up in the loft.
After the shower, I got Bea settled in with water and a huge glass of fresh-squeezed OJ.
Then I ran across the street to the convenience store to buy treats.
Now we’re cuddling on the couch. As someone who hasn’t experienced a whole lot of cuddling, I find I kind of like all this closeness.
Especially when it’s Bea, and she’s all warm and smells like my favorite things.
“So what prompted the rage-fuck?” she asks, taking a bite of an Oreo Drumstick. I recently learned she loves them.
“Hollis is starting the game tomorrow. I’m second line.”
Her brow furrows. “But you’ve been kicking ass in preseason. You’ve scored the most goals and have the most assists on the team. Hardly anyone in the league has better stats than you.”
“Yeah.”
“So why…” Her eyes close and her lips purse. “Because it’s good for team morale.”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“Hammer overheard her dad and Hollis talking the other day.” She props her cheek on her fist. I’m grateful the red spot has disappeared. “That’s so shitty, Tris. First line belongs to you.”
“I get why they’re giving it to Hollis.” And I do. But it makes me question where I stand and what’s coming at the end of the season.
“Doesn’t make it suck any less.”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, you’ll just have to play your fucking ass off and show the hockey-watching nation why you should always be in the starting lineup. And of course, my pussy is always available for a rage-pounding when shit’s unfair.”
I kiss her on the cheek. “I can’t believe you didn’t tap out.”
“I trust you. You might keep me on the edge, but you’d never hurt me. I honestly thought I was going to die if I didn’t have an orgasm soon, though. When I finally did, holy fuck.” She makes the mind-blown gesture at her crotch. “Best orgasm ever.”
“Don’t tell me that. I don’t want the green light to be an asshole like that again.”
Every time I think I’ve pushed her past her limit, she steps right up and takes what I give. It makes me want to keep her, take care of her, even though I know I can’t. But how long can we reasonably keep doing this?
She shrugs. “You were rightfully upset, and you came to me for what you needed. If it had been more than I could handle, if you had been, I would have told you. I’ve seen all your sides, Tristan. None of them scare me.”
“Come here.” I pull her into my lap, wrap my arms around her waist, and shove my face into her hair. I’m so glad to have her, but everyone leaves eventually. It’s the story of my life.
I do exactly what Bea says. I play my fucking ass off. And Hollis is rotated out in the third period, so he doesn’t tax his knee, and I take his place. It puts things in perspective. I may not have started the game, but I finished it with a goal.
For once, Flip doesn’t bring bunnies back to the room.
Not by choice. Hemi is on him, and milk is one bad press statement away from pulling his endorsement campaign.
Dallas is also trying to stay under the radar.
His campaigns aren’t at risk, but he doesn’t want to give Hemi a reason to dress him up like a clown again.
That’s why we’re all here in our hotel room, like it’s some kind of slumber party.
“You kicked some serious ass tonight.” Dallas clinks his beer bottle against mine.
“We all did,” I say. “It’s a great start to the season.”
Flip nods. “It really is. I wish I was celebrating balls deep in a bunny, but losing a million-dollar endorsement over sex seems stupid, even for me.” He tips his bottle back and drains half of it.
We stopped at the liquor store to grab a case. We also stopped at Walmart to grab snacks. It’s a Flip thing to do. Room service is pricey.
“You should probably slow your roll now that the season has started,” I suggest.
“Seems like I’ll have to, no matter what, at least until the milk campaign settles. Or I’ll have to rely on a few regulars to get by. Although too many repeats gives them ideas.” Flip taps his temple.
“You could try dating someone for a change,” Ashish offers.
“I’m not interested in commitment.” Flip polishes off his beer and grabs another from the fridge.
I shake my head. “You have this great stable family, parents who have been together for more than three decades, and you’re more relationship averse than even I am.” I trade my empty for a full one, too.
“They’re part of the reason I’m relationship averse,” Flip admits.
“They love the shit out of each other, don’t they?
” At least they seem to. As a kid, I couldn’t believe how nice they were to each other.
They didn’t have a lot of money, but every Friday, Flip’s dad brought his mom a bunch of wildflowers in the summer.
In the winter, he’d bring her a single rose.
I could do something like that for Bea. Bring her flowers.
She loves peonies. I used to steal one from my neighbor’s garden every once in a while for her when she was a kid.
“Yeah. Exactly. I can’t get in that deep with anyone. Not now. It’s too much pressure.”
“Too much pressure how?” Dallas asks.
“It’s someone else to worry about. You know what that’s like,” he directs the comment at me. “I already have my parents and Rix. I can’t add another person to that when I’m focused on my career.”
“Why are you worried about Bea?” She’s got it together; she has a good job and nice friends. Not much to worry about apart from the one thing we’re hiding from him.
“You saw where she was living. She’s used to shitty neighborhoods because of how we grew up.
But small town and big city are different.
I want her somewhere safe, but she refuses to take money from me, and she’s super paranoid about not having enough of a cushion.
That roommate situation must have been way worse than she’s admitting for her to end up at our place. ”
“Why would you think that?” Once we got her out, I didn’t think much about it.
“Rix doesn’t do anything without a plan.
She organized her university pathway starting in grade school.
She figured out how much she’d have to save every year, how much she’d need in loans, and how long it would take to pay it all off once she had a full-time job.
She even calculated things like inflation, trajectory, and how quickly she could reasonably climb the ladder with the right company.
It takes a lot for her to go off, and she’ll put up with a lot of shit before her fuse gets lit,” Flip says.
“Huh.” I sip my beer, considering. Maybe that’s why she won’t say anything to Flip about his fuck-a-thons.
She’s already had to get herself out of one shitty situation.
Maybe this is the lesser of the two evils.
Or maybe if we weren’t going behind his back she would say something, but she feels like she can’t.
“Huh, what?” Ashish asks.
“Eh?” I give Ashish my attention.
“You said huh . Huh, what?”
“I seem to be able to light Bea’s fuse.” In more ways than one.
“And she lights yours. Although you’ve been fighting less lately,” Flip says.
“I wonder why that is.” Dallas eyes me from the side.
“What was that?” Flip asks.
“We should check out the New York game,” Dallas says. “See how they’re playing so we know what we’re in for later in the season.” He flips through the channels until he finds replays of tonight’s other game.
My heart is pounding, though the guys have moved on. It seems Roman isn’t the only one who’s noticed.
T he hall leading to our condo smells like pumpkin spice.
My mouth is watering by the time I open the door, and not just because the house smells like freshly baked pies.
Bea is standing in the kitchen wearing a pair of ridiculous socks, shorts, an oversized T-shirt, and an apron.
Her hair is fixed on top of her head in a knot, and she has smudges of flour on her neck.