Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
R en
What she couldn’t possibly know is that for all her feisty banter, the hottest thing about Beatrix is that she’s given me a goal. A mountain to climb. Something formidable to conquer.
I’m an athlete down to my bones, and nothing gets me going like a challenge.
Getting her to the finish line and scoring an O becomes my only reason for being. And I’m gonna enjoy the fuck out of it.
“You okay there?” I ask as she lies heaving on her back with an arm over her eyes, motionless. “You are alive, yes?”
Beatrix nods, still not removing her arm. “So alive. So very, very alive.”
I chuckle at her lack of filter. It’s the only time she resembles the girl I knew in college. I like this version. A lot.
The other one…well, I’ll just focus on the one murmuring unintelligible things about how good I am in bed. At least, I think that’s what she’s saying .
Beatrix rolls onto her side and drops her arm. Her eyes are glass, jaw slack. Still in an orgasmic haze. So pretty this way. “Ren, you do not disappoint. I think I experienced nirvana there for a second.”
She pushes up to sitting and starts to bundle her hair into the rubber band around her wrist. I shake my head. “Oh no, you’re not done yet.”
“What? Why?”
“For starters, I didn’t give you what you came for.” I work my pants down my legs and watch her watching me. She stares as I give my cock a few strokes, and her lips part.
She turns a gorgeous shade of scarlet and re-tucks her hair behind her ears even though there’s nothing to tuck. Then she pulls the rubber band out and gathers her hair into a fist, twisting it until it’s tighter than her personality, and loops the band around it. I’m dying to reach over and pull the rubber band away entirely. And…fuck it. I scoot closer and reach my hand for her, watching her eyes widen with surprise as I outline her lips with my finger. I guide her chin so her eyes fix on mine and go utterly glassy.
Grazing her cheek, my hand continues its journey, slipping into her hair. I grab the ponytail in a fist and tug it so her mouth lines up perfectly with mine. She sucks in a breath, and I kiss her hard, letting her know that I’m nowhere close to done with her.
I pull the rubber band from her hair, which spills over her shoulders. It’s kinked in places from the rubber band, messy. “Better.”
“You’re not being helpful.” Her voice is lazy and unconvincing.
“Kinda seems like this is exactly the help you need.”
She sighs and relents, putting a hand on my arm and squeezing. “We always had good chemistry.” She can barely get the words out.
I curl a finger and beckon her closer as I move to recline against the pillows. She crawls toward me, and I pull her on top of me, taking her full weight before flipping us over again. “We have fucking great chemistry,” I say, eyes boring into hers. She nods.
Pushing my hand into her hair, I sink against her mouth. No more banter, no hesitation. Just want answering want, need battling against need. I can’t touch her in enough places to satisfy my urges, but I’m going to damned well try.
She responds to each touch and caress like I’m pulling shackles from her body, and I’m high on the power—sure, I crave a measure of control, but getting her to fucking relax feels like more of a victory than anything else.
When she looks up at me with fire in those pale blue eyes, I know she’s done pretending to give two shits about fabric or my renovation.
Good. It’s exactly the way I want it. “You’re mine, Trix. You’ve always been mine.”
She bites my jaw—hard. “Except, you left. Jerk. And I belong to no one.” The sting of her words is blunted by the smirk on her face. A firm reminder that this is one and done. I’m not getting her back. That’s not what this is. I’m providing a service, and I’m not forgiven for anything. I hate it because I already want so much more from her, and I already know I’d give her my heart if she asked.
“It was a mistake. I’ve regretted it for years.” I kiss her neck, tasting her sweet skin and licking along her jaw until she sighs.
“Good. Tell me again.”
“Worst mistake of my goddamn life,” I growl, knowing she’s playing with me, taunting me. But as I say the words, I know I’m speaking the absolute fucking truth.
Her eyes go glassy as she nods. “I know. It was.”
I sink a finger inside the warm flesh between her legs, swirling against her clit until I hear her gasp. “You good?” I ask.
“Yes,” she pants .
I laugh and work my way up her body, pressing my lips against hers. The kiss turns hot in an instant, and I can’t hold off any longer without being inside her. Turning to my bedside table, I fumble through for a condom, realizing there’s no chance of finding one. I haven’t been with anyone in this house—haven’t been with anyone in a long time. My eyes narrow and I panic.
As if reading my thoughts, Trix rolls to the edge of the bed and grabs her purse. “I think I have one, but it’s like a hundred years old. Do they go bad?” she asks, producing a little gold package.
“I don’t see how.” I’m not about to debate the aging properties of latex right now, but I give it a cursory once-over. The package looks fine, so I tear it open, never losing contact with those luscious fucking lips.
“Great. Stop talking.”
I do as I’m told. No more talking. I’m wholly focused on her, the way her eyes drift shut when I move against her clit. The way she moans quietly when I circle against her. The way she sighs when I thrust inside to fill her.
I’ve fantasized about how it would feel to be inside her again, but reality leaves my dreams in the dust. No one compares to the feel of her. We just fit. The sight of her. The scent of her. The tight, wet heat of her. I’m lost to the sensation that envelops every part of me.
“Fuck, Trix.”
“I know,” she gasps.
Maybe it’s because she’s waited so long. Maybe she’s been banking her libido or something. Because this is not the woman I remember from college. This one knows what she wants and is determined to get it. Makes me hell-bent on giving it to her.
I thrust harder, chasing the feeling that has my senses on fire. I’m aware of her every movement and inhalation. And those sweet sighs and moans.
My hips piston and I drive into her—harder, softer, all at her pace. My hands can’t get enough of her body. I trail them over every inch of her skin, fueled by her soft sounds of approval. My mouth on hers, sharing her breath. Impossible to get enough of her.
It’s been a while for me too, so I don’t have a lot of hope of lasting like she might want me to. When I feel her start to come apart beneath me, I give in, coming hard on a curse and a desperate grunt.
Her name on my lips—it’s like coming home.
It feels so goddamn good, and I let my brain empty of thoughts. It feels nice to be in the moment and take a break from worrying about anything else.
Beatrix lets out a long, contented exhale. “This afternoon certainly took a turn for the better.”
“Happy to help anytime.”
Her eyes snap open and promptly narrow at me. “Just today, thanks. This is a ‘one-and-done’ situation, remember?”
I’m unconcerned about how she wants to characterize it. I just like that I can get her out of her head for five minutes so she can enjoy herself. But I’m smart enough to know she’ll bolt like a deer in the headlights if I say it out loud.
“Yeah, I recall.”
She claps a hand over her eyes. “Honestly, I can’t believe I just followed my old flame to his house for sex. Not on-brand for me, just so you know.”
“Well, just so you know, it isn’t for me either.” I don’t know why it feels important that she knows it. I’m not expecting a disbelieving cackle. I boop her on the nose. “Hey, what’s that about? You think I’m some kind of man slut?”She shrugs. “If social media is to be believed, um, yeah.”
It’s not lost on me that she cares enough to follow social media gossip posts about me. “Stalking me on social media, are you?”
“Ha. You wish. If I could open my feed without seeing some dumb picture of you with one of your puck bunnies, it would be a miracle.”
Uh-huh. My smirk widens to a full-on smile. “Interesting.” I hate that she saw those types of pictures, solidifying her wrong opinion of me. But I’m a little gratified that she’s looked me up because maybe all isn’t lost. I feel a kernel of hope.
“No, very not interesting.”
“Matter of opinion. Clearly, you’ve trained the algorithm.”
“What?”
“You know. These apps have sophisticated computer programs behind them to learn what you like and show you more of it. Lemme guess. In addition to hockey players, you also get a lot of cat videos?”
“Why, because I’m a single woman? I must be a cat lady?”
I shrug. “Fine. Dog videos?”
“If you must know…penguins.”
“Penguins? Any particular reason?”
“They’re cute.” She rolls to the side to retrieve her phone, and I take in the smooth skin of her back, where it tapers to a narrow waist… I’m about to take a bite from her ass cheek when she rolls back with her phone, fingers typing and swiping. She hands it to me. “Look at them. The way they walk…”
I lean over her shoulder to watch the video, taking the opportunity to inhale the scent of her skin. I don’t like the idea of being one and done with her. The feisty, confident, straight-talking woman she’s become is even sexier to me than the woman I used to know. I want to give her confidence to let me in, to let me see beneath the polished exterior like she just did. Only I want it for more than one afternoon. But balancing love and hockey is not something I’ve learned how to do.
So it may be one and done for her, but I’m not giving up. I’ll just play the long game.
I run a hand down the curve of her waist and let it settle on the swell of her hip, rubbing my thumb back and forth on her soft skin. She’s damn near perfect, even more stunning than she was ten years earlier, and I’d been transfixed by her then.
This feels good. Too good. When I signed with the Otters, I hoped it might lead to an eventual reconnection with Beatrix, but I never imagined having her in my bed after a chance meeting. I don’t want to blow this opportunity with her, but I’m not even sure it’s an opportunity
As I roll to the side and stroke Beatrix’s long hair splayed out on my pillow, I replay the unsatisfying versions of relationships I’ve had over the years. I never wanted the women I dated to linger in my bed, and I always made it clear that I was committed to one love—hockey.
For the past ten years, when the clock strikes six in the morning, I’m back in training, completely focused. I’ve never let a woman get in the way of that. I came too close to tanking my entire future over love, and I’ve been scared straight ever since. That was ten years ago.
Same woman, new circumstances.
I have no idea if I can do better by her without endangering everything I’ve worked for on the ice, but spending a mere few hours with her has me interested in the possibility. Not that she’s offering.
Beatrix rolls off the bed and pads to my bathroom, grabbing her clothes from the floor on the way. Clearly, she hasn’t changed her mind—she doesn’t plan to linger here.
A few minutes later, I hear the toilet flush and Beatrix emerges, fully dressed. I’m covered in bedsheets from the waist down, sitting up against a few pillows, hands behind my head. I’m not about to ruin the sweet memory of the past hour by dissecting it.
Truman starts scratching at the door, and she glances toward the sound. “Should I let him in?”
“Please. ”
She opens the door, and my dog comes bounding into the room and jumps on the bed.
“I can see why you didn’t invite him in earlier,” she says.
“Yeah, not as much fun as a threesome.”
She nods, subdued, maybe even…relaxed?
“This was good,” she says.
“Glad you got what you needed.” On one hand, I’m relieved that even after ten years, we can fall back into familiarity. On the other, it feels like we’re just two ships that happened to pass in Oxbow Market, and she seems content for us to sail along in opposite directions. Why wouldn’t she be?
“Okay, well, don’t get up. I can show myself out.”
She starts for the door, but I call her back. She turns, and I beckon her closer with a finger. Looking over her shoulder like I might be indicating someone other than her, she creeps closer to me.
“I had a really nice time, Trix. Thanks for trusting me enough to relax.”
Her face contorts into a grimace before settling into a grudging half smile. “Thanks for helping me…relax.”
I roll out of bed and pull on a pair of sweatpants. “Here. Lemme walk you out.” Truman trails after us, but when I place my hand on Beatrix’s lower back to guide her toward the door, she takes an extra step away, so I lose contact. Guess we’re back to reality.
“Trix, I know it’s been years, and we didn’t exactly part on good terms, but I’m glad we can be friends.”
“Friends?” Her forehead creases and she seems genuinely confused.
“Yes. It’s what happens when two people don’t hate each other and can say a few nice words when they run into each other around town.”
“That’s what you think is happening here? We’re gonna be friends?” She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. ”
I feel the blood drain from my face at her words. It’s not like I thought we’d be spending every day together from now on, but to act like we’re estranged feels like a blade in my chest. I don’t think she’s as cold as she’s trying to lead me to believe, but I’ll tread lightly because it’s all so new.
“Why not?
Opening the front door, I notice the dim light of evening and the sky turning a dusky blue. It’s my favorite time of day, the time that reminds me the most of Vermont. A light breeze rustles through the trees at the end of my driveway. The soothing balm to the relentless schedule during hockey season.
“Let’s just call it what it was. A good time.”
I’m not at all willing to dismiss it that easily, but for now, I let her think she can have the final word.
Truman, sensing the possibility of a walk, barrels past us onto the porch and promptly sits in front of Beatrix. He stares up at her with his large eyes and extends a paw as if to shake her hand. She smiles and reaches down to accept his paw. “Such a good boy. Yes you are.” None of her sass for him.
“He likes you,” I tell her, somehow feeling proud, as though I had anything to do with it. On the contrary, I think she likes Tru in spite of me, not because of me.
“It’s mutual.” She drops down onto my porch and sits cross-legged. Truman promptly curls up in her lap, and she pets his head. “Even though it was a little touch and go there earlier when I lost my coffee.”
“You hear that, Tru? Never come between a sleepy woman and her coffee.” I wag a finger at him, but he ignores me.
“He always misbehaves a little before I leave town.”
“Shh!” she admonishes. “Don’t say it in front of him. They understand everything, even if they don’t know the words.” She scratches him behind the ears, and Truman promptly rolls onto his back for a belly rub. He looks ridiculous, practically overwhelming the space in her lap, but they both look so content I’m not about to pull him away. Just then, the mail carrier turns onto my drive and all hell breaks loose.
Truman scrambles to flip back onto his feet so he can chase the truck, toppling Beatrix onto her back in the process. He’s oblivious, barking and trailing behind the truck, so I lean over to give her a hand up.
“And we’ve come full circle,” I say.
“Yup.”
This time, she doesn’t resist when I pull her to her feet. Feels like progress.
“So he knows you’re leaving?”
“Yeah. I made the mistake of taking a suitcase out, so the jig is up. Quick trip to see my mom while I still have downtime before the preseason. Tru’ll be at the doggie spa in case you get lonely and want to visit.”
She looks at Truman, loping along as the mail carrier exits her truck and sets down two packages near the box, waving to me and pointing. I wave back. “Thank you!” She gives Truman a pat on the head and gets back in her truck while he sulks back toward us, the moment of fun behind him.
“Is it really a spa? Or is it one of those kennels where they sit in a cage all day and do one loop around the yard?”
“It’s actually my house in Berkeley. My acupuncturist loves him and housesits whenever I’m on the road, but he gets into trouble when I leave town, chews furniture, rips up plants. So he has to stay in a crate when she goes to work all day. I don’t love that part.”
“You should leave him with me.” She looks as surprised saying the words as I am hearing them. Her eyes go wide, and she claps a hand over her mouth.
“Was that your inside voice?” I ask. “You already having dog sitter’s regret?”
She nods. “Yes, but no. I do like that little guy. I could watch him while you’re gone. He’d have my yard to hang in all day, and I could take him on hikes up Buttercup Hill behind the winery. Plus, my niece would love him to pieces.”
She’s making it sound like paradise, and I find myself a little jealous of my dog. The invitation to join Trix on hikes doesn’t seem to extend to me.
“You sure you don’t mind watching him?” I’m grateful because I don’t have to concoct another reason to see her again, and I definitely want to see her again.
“Yep, it’s fine.” She looks me over from head to toe, much like she did when she first recognized me in the parking lot, and nods. “Sex and a dog. Feels like a win-win for Trixie.”
I can’t help but laugh at the nickname that most certainly doesn’t fit her type A personality. But she’s right about the win-win part, only I feel like the one who’s winning.