Chapter Forty One #2
“That you have no idea how beautiful you are when you're angry.” My heart flips over in my chest, my thoughts skidding to a halt as both sides of my world collide. I’m surprised my brain didn’t actually explode like a watermelon being smashed by a hammer.
I blink a few times, not knowing what to say, what to think.
Luckily, Everest doesn’t seem to need an answer, just a listening ear.
“I've always been surrounded by people who mask every thought and feeling, keeping their intentions locked behind sly smiles. I remember the first time I saw you on the pitch. You were a powerhouse, charging forward and at the last second, you swung and missed the goal.”
The memory triggers my brain into overdrive, remembering way back to when I also noticed Everest for the first time.
Like he’d stepped straight out of Beverly Hills, he wore the latest sporting brands and his hair was perfectly styled.
He was leaning against the stands, one ankle crossed over the other, waiting for his scheduled slot on the pitch.
“Mmmm,” I twist my lips. “That was the first time I bashed my stick against the goal posts until it snapped, and it wasn’t the last.”
“You were glorious,” Everest replies instantly, a small rumble bleeding from his chest. “I'd never seen such raw emotion. You embraced your rage, leaving it out there for everyone to see.”
My brows raise at Everest’s poetic recollection of the unladylike explosion that saw me in the Coach’s office for all the wrong reasons.
But I do remember my first impression of him too.
I remember thinking he didn’t belong there, that some of us had to fight for our place in Hollowbrook's sports program, but he soon proved me wrong.
He actually had the talent to back up his cocky posture.
Shifting slightly, Everest’s hands close around my wrists. I flinch, unprepared for the soft brush of his thumbs against my pulse points, or what the effect it has on the rest of my body. My thighs are pressed together so tightly, they’re starting to cramp.
“That's the day I decided I would become the cause of your anger. I wanted your outbursts, your hatred and all of your attention.” In the neon’s glare, his eyes hold me with a rare glimpse of honesty, and I struggle not to fidget under the weight of it.
On the pitch, everything about Everest is harsh.
Barked orders and stern scowls. And when it’s the two of us, he usually calls upon those smug smirks that infuriate the life out of me.
I suppose that’s what he means about keeping intentions locked behind a smile.
But this? Lying parallel to one another in a creaky bed, his touch pressing into my skin with far too much heat. Yeah, I have no idea what this is.
“Everest,” I breathe, holding his gaze the best I can in the darkness.
“Why am I really here?” It’s the only question I can think of, and the only one that matters.
With every breath, Everest is stripping back, revealing more of himself than I’ve ever seen.
Possibly, more than anyone has ever seen, but even I know he has secrets buried far beneath the surface.
Things I’ll likely never know, and until now, I’ve never wanted to.
Taking long enough to answer that I start to fidget, my limbs becoming laden, Everest reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear.
“You're the only person I've ever known who didn't have to hide, until someone gave you a reason to. We're going to correct that travesty.” His fingers linger on my jaw, his eyes searching my face until he starts to pull away both physically and emotionally. I grab his forearm, desperate to dig deeper into his mindset. Maybe if I understood, I wouldn’t feel like every mile we gain on Harrison is one in the wrong direction.
“And then what happens?” I ask. Everest considers me, even after I’ve released his arm.
“That's a question only you can answer.” The weight of his response presses on my chest, a knot forming. I’ve come so far with Thiago, and I love what I have with him.
It’s easy and safe. But the way my core is responding to Everest’s voice, the way my body wants to close the proximity between us, I’m starting to wonder if I want safe.
What if, after all of the denial, I thrive on the fury Everest provokes. What if he’s right.
“We should rest. Can I...” Everest trails off, dragging the pillows away to slowly trail a hand over my hip.
I don't resist as his palm rounds my back and he tugs me closer. That lingering desire within me has a mind of its own, my groin pressing forward to seek contact. Luckily, Everest doesn’t seem to notice, or we’d be in a very sticky situation. No pun intended.
Instead, with the iron-will that a gladiator would be proud of, my hands brace on his chest as I work on lessening the jackhammering of my heart.
Everest appears to have a much calmer reaction, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead and his following exhale being pulled through his entire being.
He settles faster than I do, his arm across my waist becoming heavy.
I lie there, overthinking every syllable Everest has just uttered.
Every intention that was just shared. Then there’s Thiago, and his terrible timing.
Literally the worst, he could sext me any day or night but this is the one he chose.
The bastard. Images float around my mind, a collision of dick pics and first impressions. Skillful fingers and lacrosse sticks.
It takes far too long to relax just enough to slip into a light doze when Everest’s hand moves, slipping beneath my t-shirt to press against my spine.
My eyes fly wide open, lashes fluttering against his bare chest. He doesn’t react further, convincing me that he’s simply adjusting in his sleep.
Once again, I force myself into a calm lull.
On and on this game of cat and mouse goes.
Every time I settle just enough to toy with the idea of sleep, Everest’s hand moves.
To my ribcage. Then his thumb tracing the underneath of my breast. His thigh slips forward, pushing between mine.
The heat pulsing through my center reawakens far too quickly, a groan locked in my throat.
When his thigh drives an inch higher and a bolt of lust electrocutes me from the inside, I know there’s no sleep happening here.
He’s provoking me, lying there as if nothing is happening at all.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip again, knowing it’ll be bruised in the morning.
Especially as I readjust and not so subtly seeking friction between my legs.
My fingers tighten against Everest’s chest, my nails lightly embedding in his skin.
A light hiss saws out of him, his Adam’s apple bobbing against my temple.
My brain starts firing on all pistons, hallucinations flashing behind my closed lids.
Further memories are uncovered. Me sitting in Everest’s lap, firstly in his car, but then the backdrop shifts to his office.
I straddle him in his desk chair, both of us naked and panting as I lower onto his cock.
Remembering the delicious stretch, the scent of his arousal, the slickness of our skin, tips me over the edge and I roll my clit against Everest’s solid thigh.
The groan actually escapes me this time, losing all pretense of remaining unaffected.
Screw it.
This is Thiago's fault anyway. He should have known better than to stir up my desire whilst I'm sharing a bed with my rival. Unless he knew exactly what he was doing...