Chapter 58
Fifty-Eight
Tweetie
“I have no idea how you have the energy for this, but I am not complaining,” Tedi says, her fingernails digging into my shoulder blades harder with every one of my thrusts.
Her back is to the wall, and she’s wearing my T-shirt. I made a mental note to get her my jersey even if she’s just wearing it in private.
We didn’t make it two steps into my condo before we were on each other, stripping one another out of our clothes. The only time we parted was when I ran to my bedroom to grab a condom.
“Fuck, Tweetie. It feels so good.”
“You feel good.” And she does. It was always different with Tedi. Still is.
The urgency, the feral need, the feeling of never getting enough of her—it’s addicting, and I love every fucking minute of it.
She slides her hand down between us.
I groan. “Yeah, babe, touch yourself.”
Her head hits the wall, and her free arm wraps around my neck. Both of us glance down. I watch her circle her clit while my cock drags in and out of her. I’m barely holding on.
“God, I’m so wet.”
The only noise in my condo is our breathing and the sound of me driving into her. She’s moaning and whimpering, and I don’t relent, because she’s close, and I can’t wait to see her come apart around me.
She clenches around me, and her eyes shut, my name slipping from her lips, then her body goes limp in my arms for a moment.
Before she’s fully recovered, she slips her hand out from between us and runs her arousal over my lips. I suck her fingers with a moan. The taste of her makes my balls draw tight, and with one final thrust, I still, unable to hold it back any longer. She tightens her legs, giving my arms a reprieve while I empty myself into the condom.
Tedi nuzzles her head into my neck, her labored breaths easing back to a normal rhythm. “I love you.”
“I love you back.” I run my hand up her side.
I’m still trying to believe that we’re here. That Tedi’s in my condo and we’re making a go of this. A part of me still thinks I’m dreaming.
She loosens her legs, and I lower her to the floor.
“I’ll be right back.” I head to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.
When I drop it in the trash, she’s at my back, her arms wrapping around my waist and her cheek on my shoulder blade. Perfection. This feels like perfection. As if she couldn’t stay away from me for such a short amount of time, so she’s joining me.
We stay like that for a minute, basking in the feeling of being here, together.
“Now, get out. I have to go to the bathroom so I don’t get a UTI.” She giggles, kissing my back before unwinding herself off me.
“Still shutting the door?” I ask, stepping around her to give her the bathroom.
“Yep.” She pushes the door shut.
I grab our clothes off the floor by the front door, walk to my bedroom, and toss them on the bed. She’s in the doorway moments later, watching me shove my legs into a pair of sweats.
“Do you have anything for me?” She steps in, stripping the T-shirt off her body.
“Are you kidding? What’s mine is yours.”
She goes to my dresser and opens a drawer.
“Fair warning though, I might go all caveman alpha male seeing you in my clothes.”
She thumbs through the T-shirts, doesn’t pull anything out, and shuts the drawer. Instead, she walks to my closet, and I hear her pushing aside the hangers, as if she’s searching for something specific. I sit on the edge of the bed, watching her.
She sighs and pulls a sweatshirt off a hanger. Turning around, she holds it up to herself, and I laugh.
It’s her favorite sweatshirt of mine. Old and worn and the one I toyed with getting rid of so many times but couldn’t.
“Do you remember?” She tosses it over her head and saunters across the room to me.
“I do.” I give her a warm smile.
We were on vacation and got stuck in a rainstorm. Running into the nearest store, we bought two sweatshirts. Then we got back to where we were staying and used the excuse of getting warm to strip and slide under the blankets for some skin-to-skin contact. It’s one of my favorite memories with her and one of the reasons that sweatshirt still hangs in my closet.
Tedi claimed both of them as hers after that. I wasn’t complaining.
She drops one leg on the right of my hip and the other one on my left, straddling my lap.
“Are you hungry?” My hands find her ass, tugging her the rest of the way to me.
“Yeah, but nothing crazy. What’s with this Chicago pizza I keep hearing about?”
“It’s deep dish, and it’s so good. And you have to try it.”
She nods, kisses me, and crawls off my lap, situating herself beside me against the headboard. “I like your place. Right next to Colts’ stadium, huh?”
I eye her, and she laughs. Fucking Decker Davis. I’m not sure I can ever look at him the same. Then I grab my phone from the pocket of my jeans and pull up the pizza place I usually order from.
“Hey, someone came to see me in the stands today.”
I glance from my phone to her. “You sound hesitant. Did someone hit on you?”
“God, no.” She acts as if the idea is ludicrous, but I catch guys checking her out all the time. “It was Bud.”
I roll my eyes, click the order button, and toss my phone on the bed.
She brings the sweatshirt over her legs and crosses her ankles. “I don’t want to ruin tonight, but I think you need to know.”
“Okkaayy…”
“Bud is upset about the post you made. The one with?—”
“I know which one.” Anger is the first emotion that arises because I’m not letting hockey dictate my life anymore.
She scoots closer to me, taking my hand. “He has a point.” I open my mouth to argue, but she puts up her hand. “I’m not saying you have to delete it, but I want you to know what you’re up against if you don’t.”
I trust Tedi, I always have. She’s probably the reason I’m such a popular player. She taught me how to show people the person I am through my posts. It’s the only reason I started doing it myself after I lost her. “Go ahead.”
“Bud isn’t set on signing you next year. He’s almost throwing it around like if you want a contract, you play by his rules.”
I slide my hand out of hers, both of my hands going into my hair. “He’s holding that over my head?”
“I know. He’s a controlling asshole. He’s not happy with the way I’m showcasing you either. He said you seem too perfect and people can’t relate.” She shrugs. “I’m biased, and maybe I’ve been doing that without realizing it, but I do have some ideas that might help him be happy. What it comes down to is that he’s threatening both of our jobs. He says if I don’t do what he wants, he’s calling my boss, and if you don’t delete the post, he might not give you a contract.”
I whip my head around and steady my gaze on her. “I’m not deleting it.”
She nods. “I figured. But?—”
“I don’t care. I’m not going to let Bud Caldron bully me. Fuck him. Another team will want me if he doesn’t.” I’m not going to let anyone come between us again. My job will not affect us, but damn, I’m gonna miss Chicago and the guys.
“I don’t understand him. You’ve gotten a lot of fans who are happy with that post. I’m not sure why… well…”
“What?”
She blows out a breath. “All publicity is good publicity. And although you’ve never been the bad boy who’s going out and doing illegal shit, you are… were… the guy who got them publicity for just being you. You’re always around the city. Not a homebody. You’re accessible to your fans.”
“That’s exactly what we did in Florida to get my name out there, remember?”
“I know, but Bud believes he needs you single, and apparently he wants you to show your age.”
My face contorts with disgust. “What?”
She nods. I can tell from how many deep breaths she’s taking that she doesn’t want to tell me any of this. “He wants me to show you struggling more. As if you’re toying with retirement because you’re falling short.” She bites her lips. “I’d never do that. Plus, it’s bullshit. You’re the strongest one out there. The best player.”
I quirk my eyebrow. “You’re definitely biased.”
“I am, but everyone loves you, Tweetie. And the post thing is your decision. I’m not going to be upset if you take it down. I don’t need you to publicly claim me.” She shakes her head. “But for the campaign, I have other ideas to make you more relatable that don’t involve any of the shit Bud wants. I just wanted to run it by you first because if you want me to do what Bud wants and go that way, I will. If staying in Chicago is that important to you and you want that contract, I’ll make it happen.”
“Fuck that. I don’t give a shit about Bud. And yeah, I love Chicago. I love these guys.” I grab her hand and pull her onto my lap. “But I want this more than anything.” I wave my finger between us. “Maybe I’ll retire, move to New York with you.”
She studies me for a beat. “There’s one more thing.”
I rock my head back. “Whhaattt?”
“We can’t go to the gala together. We have to go separately. Bud seems to know something is up.”
I frown. “Why do you think that?”
“He’s sniffing around. Mentioned how I used to do your social media back in Florida. I don’t know, just a feeling I have.” She takes my hands, lifting them and entwining her fingers through mine. She watches our hands move together for a second before her gaze meets mine again. “I want us out there, but I have to tell my boss first, and I’d rather be the one in charge of your campaign. If we have any shot of you staying in Chicago, I need to be here running this for you.”
“Tedi, I?—”
“I know, Tweetie. I know I’m more important, but you playing where you want is more important to me . I love you so much, I want this for you.” She leans forward. “Secrets can be fun.” She kisses me on the neck. “Sneaking around.” She kisses my jaw, then her lips are millimeters from mine. “We know what we have. We don’t need to share it with the world to know it’s true.” She presses her lips to mine, then draws back, waiting for my answer.
And fuck, of course I want to stay in Chicago. Especially if we win the Cup. I want the last years of my career to count.
“Okay,” I agree, but I remind myself if this goes south, I’m tugging Tedi into a life raft and we’re getting the hell out of Dodge.
This time, I’ll save us before anything touches us.