31. Storm
I’m with Levi, Tessa, and the boys in the player’s family lounge just off the lower concourse. According to Levi, it’s the closest to the locker rooms and more kid-friendly than the owner’s club upstairs.
Max and Jackson have found a snack table and a few other kids to talk to. I take a moment to admire it since I never get to see him like this. Maybe he’s not as awkward as I’d thought.
Maybe he just needed this. A little confidence. A little excitement in his life.
A male figure.
Cheers and commotion erupt outside the dark glass doors and I see why. Several players stepped out of the locker room and out into the hall. VIP pass holders, reporters, and fans crowd them instantly.
“Ugh, finally,” Tessa says. “Come on, Jackson, let’s congratulate Uncle Chase and get home.” She leans in to me. “I hate to run, but we’ve got a two-year-old we need to pick up from my brother-in-law’s.”
I smile. “Ah, that’s a good age. But I’m sure you know all too well how fast they grow.”
“Not really. Jackson’s not mine.”
“He’s not?”
“Well, he’s mine in every way that counts and I love him to death—but biologically, no.”
I look at Levi. “You’d never know. You two look like you’ve been together forever.”
“Wish it were true. But no—in fact that man tried to run me out of town for three years before he let me near his kid.”
I cough out a laugh. “What? Really?”
“Even more of a fun fact, I still came knockin’ on his door to hire me to be Jackson’s nanny. I mean, the man was desperate, but he wasn’t that desperate.”
I smile. “I don’t suppose you put on a jersey to win his heart?”
She laughs and shrugs. “I fell for him and his kid. The rest works itself out.”
My gaze drifts past the glass windows and into the long hallway.
Silas and Chase appear first, cutting through the crowd like they’ve done this a hundred times—easy grins, hands lifting for quick autographs, a nod, a clap on the shoulder. They wave once, casually, before letting security step in.
Pepper flashes by, her tight ponytail bouncing as she escapes the chaos. Chase catches her hand without breaking stride, and the three of them angle toward us together.
My stomach buzzes when Silas steps through the door and his eyes sweep the space. When they find mine, it steals my breath. It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for since that last damn horn sounded.
The cheering in this dark, private space is different. Familiar as opposed to loud.
Silas is in front of Tessa and me. “Hello, Tess.”
“Yeah, I can take a hint—I’ll go find my husband. It was nice seein’ you again, Storm.” She gives me a wink and takes off.
I can’t help myself, I reach for him, my arms going around his shoulders like they belong there. His arms wrap around me, warm and fitting. Natural.
“Congratulations.”
He releases me, grinning slowly as he narrows his eyes at me. “You watch the game?”
I give it a beat before answering. “There was a game?”
His grin is wide now. Like I just gave him a better answer than he could’ve hoped for. He takes my hand and steps into my space.
Max is at my side. “Mom, we don’t have to leave yet, do we? The players all just got here.”
I smooth down his hair, ready to tell him it’s late and time to go, but someone cuts in.
“Course not,” Chase says, giving my kid a high five. “Max, right?”
Max’s jaw drops.
Chase winks at me. “They’re about to bring out the ice cream and then we’re going to swing by the gift shop, let the kids go a little nuts.”
It’s a school night. Is what I should say. But I don’t. “One scoop,” I warn.
Chase roars and grabs his hand and Jackson’s before Levi and Tessa could whisk him away.
Silas takes my hand. “Come with me? He’s safe with Chase and Pepper.”
I nod and tighten my grip.
Silas leads me down the hall.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know,” he breathes like we’re on some mission. Then stops midway through the empty hall and pins me against a wall. “You look damn good in my jersey, Bee. You do that for me?”
I shake my head, breathless. “No. I did it for them.”
“Who?”
“Everyone. When you’d look my way—everyone would know you’re looking at your girl.”
Pride settles across his features as he slides his fingers through my hair. “You’re my girl.” It’s barely a question. Almost a confirmation.
“Haven’t I always been?”
“Damn right.” He kisses me hot and urgent. Then takes my hand and leads me down the hall, checking each door until he finds one unlocked.
Peeking in quickly, he pulls me inside and closes the door, locking it.
I glance around the space. It looks spacious, busy, and . . . important. “Silas,” I hiss. “Is this . . .”
“Coach’s office,” he says like it’s nothing.
“Silas.” It comes out in a harsh whisper.
He chuckles darkly. “It was either here or out in the hall.”
“What was?”
“I’m fucking feral for you right now, Storm. For the past two hours. Your possessiveness is my new obsession. And I want to taste it.” He leans into my ear. “I want to fuck it.”
Good God.
Suddenly, he’s not so clean-cut anymore. He’s a man obsessed with me. And it shows. It’s so raw and dirty and I want it all.
I want the man I saw standing beside the rink like he belongs. The man who’s back in the place he feels most grounded, confident. And with it all, he still only sees me. Only wants me.
A knot pulls on my stomach. “Do it. Now, Silas,” I urge before someone could come in and ruin this.
“I wish I could. I wish I could lay you over my bed right now. Make you mine for the taking. Tease you. Tie you up. Slip a finger inside you and make you scream out the truth.”
“What truth?”
“Tonight’s truth, Bee.”
I swallow, my need growing. “What’s that?”
He leans into my ear. “That you took one look around the arena . . .” He grins and it brushes against my skin . . . “And staked your claim.”
“It’s just a jersey, hotshot.”
He undoes the drawstring of my pants and stretches his hands under the waistband, gripping my ass. His breath is in my neck. “Do you know what that did to me, Bee? What seeing you in my jersey, making me your guy, watching me and only me, on a night I felt . . . unworthy?”
“Wait, wh—”
With a flick of his thumbs, my pants fall down my legs and I no longer care how he was feeling before. He’s not feeling it now. “No. I don’t know. Please show me.”
He undoes his belt and it’s so damn hot. The urgency. The possession. The growl he releases as he pulls me against his erection. Gripping my jaw with one hand he kisses me deeply. “Turn around, Sunflower.”
I’m breathing hard, hesitating.
He rests his hands over my head. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m—I’m too worked up. If we start—you better finish it.”
“I have no intention of not finishing, baby.”
“What if someone comes in?”
“Turn around.”
I comply—the way that seems to drive him crazy, and I hear shuffling behind me. He’s stroking himself.
“Lower them for me. Let me see that perfect ass.”
I push down my panties and he curses.
“Spread your legs.”
I pull my legs apart slightly, whimpering, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
His fingers slide in and out of me. “Fuck, I wish I had more time with you right now.”
I’m silently grateful we don’t, and push against him.
Moving his hand to my front, he scrunches up the hem of the oversized jersey and holds it in front of me. “Bite down on this.”
I’m quick to comply because I can hear it in his voice. He doesn’t plan on being gentle. And I’m not about to give him a reason to be.
“Good girl.”
I’m so wet that he slides into me with one thick thrust, leaving me biting down hard with a groan.
His left hand presses against the wall as he continues to own me with his cock. Pushing and filling me in a way that feels too much but not enough. Because any less would leave me empty, deprived, cheated.
My breathing is hard, my cries muffled.
He slides in and out of me, fucking me, praising me with hot whispers against the back of my neck. I’ve never felt so powerless and powerful at the same time.
“You’re mine, Storm. Just as much as I’m yours. I’ll only ever belong to you. You’re the only one I want wearing my name, my number, my fucking soul.” He pounds into me and I’m so close, I shudder.
Like he can feel it, he moves in exactly the rhythm I need. Pulse after pulse, beat for beat, he’s claiming me the way I’ve claimed him tonight. Gripping my ass tight enough to leave a mark. And I let him. I’m reveling in it.
“Yes . . .” the words come off muffled through the fabric in my mouth, “God, yes.”
I come hard, gripping the wall, but needing more support as I feel my knees weaken. Silas bites down on my shoulder, no doubt marking me as he releases inside me, shuddering and panting.
We’re both quiet and still for a moment until he slides out, flipping me to his chest, holding me like I’m a treasure. Priceless. And only his.
We step into the warm cottage an hour later. I haven’t had an ounce of alcohol tonight and I’m feeling high on something. It’s lightweight and heavy at the same time. A pull in my chest, a longing for something I’m not sure how to express. Not even to myself.
Is it for Silas to spend the night?
To tell Max that Silas is a little more than a friend to Mommy now?
Whatever it is, it’s not a conversation for right now. It’s close to midnight and this kid is up way past his bedtime. Not to mention, Silas walked us into the house, which—against my better judgement—I wouldn’t have had any other way. And it’s not something I’d want to discuss with him here.
Adrenaline burned off somewhere between the car ride and the front door, the night settling into something softer, calmer.
Max kicks off his shoes and chatters about all the fun he had after the game with all the kids, the swag they let him take home.
Silas and I quietly listen, exchanging glances like this is our normal.
Like we’re all settling in after a big night and he’s not about to leave.
And it was a big night.