33. Maya
Maya
“Hey, are you planning on going to the game tomorrow?”
I bite my lip, unsure. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but I’m on the fence about whether or not it’s a good idea for me to be there.
Dani must read the indecision on my face because she says, “It’s a huge game. Colton Crosby finally coming back? Drake is nervous as hell that the entire team is going to be gunning for him after what he did in November.”
“Rightfully so. He put someone in the fucking hospital.” Up until she came to campus, it had completely slipped my mind that Danielle’s step-brother is the one who hurt Colton Crosby. It’s like the two separate halves of my world collided, and I’m still getting used to all the overlap.
“I know, I know. He said he apologized to Colt, but he definitely deserves a revenge hit, in my opinion.”
“Lucky for him, I don’t think Colt is the revenge type. Beau on the other hand…” I shoot her a pointed look, and her cheeks heat.
“Yeah, I’m still not sure if Beau knows we’re family, but I told Drake that Beau would be the one to watch out for. Anyway, will you go with me?”
“I don’t know, Dee. I’m not sure I want to risk it,” I answer honestly.
After the grocery store conversation, I told Dani what Jamie and I had agreed to, and she was happy that we’d worked something out, but also—rightfully—worried about the inevitable consequences and hardships that will come with a secret relationship.
“No one would even suspect that you were at the game for Jameson. Your dad is the coach, and one of his star players is returning from a huge injury. That’s reason enough for you to be there.”
“I guess that’s true. Fine, I’ll go. Want me to see if Chloe wants to join?”
“Sure, if you want. Did you tell her yet?”
I nod my head. I had been procrastinating telling her about me and Jamie, because I know she thinks he’s going to hurt me again.
She’s fiercely protective and doesn’t forgive easily, but when I finally broke the news to her a couple of days ago, she took it well enough, if with a little extra cynicism toward the hockey captain.
“Alright, well I’m going to shower and finish that paper I’ve got due.” As Dani heads to her room, I pick up my phone, giddy to see new messages from Jamie.
Jamie doesn’t say anything, just pulls my body to his in a crushing hug when I let myself into his room.
I run my hands up his chest, slipping my fingers around his neck and into his soft hair. “Hi,” I whisper, laughing.
Jamie and I, while we’ve been texting and talking on the phone nonstop, have not seen one another in person since our talk in the parking lot. Between his games, my job, the fact that he drives a very distinct car and can’t park anywhere near my building, have all been factors keeping us apart.
Tonight, though, he sent Drew to pick me up, which I was both grateful and mortified by. Drew, the angel that he is, didn’t mind in the slightest, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty, and I refuse to let it be a regular occurrence.
Jamie bends down, brushing a gentle kiss over my lips as he closes the door behind me.
After our talk at the store was cut short, we spent hours on the phone setting new boundaries for our relationship.
We spent an awful lot of time discussing the logistics of our secret: he can go out with the team, be seen talking to other people—girls—and post photos.
He assured me he has not—and would continue to not—flirt with other women since the incident at New Years, and truthfully, even before then.
Jamie told me, repeatedly, that he would rather gouge out his own eyes than look at another woman, and I trust him wholeheartedly.
Jameson Booker is many things, but a cheater isn’t one of them.
“How was your day?” he asks, pulling me back toward the bed. He’s in nothing but low-hanging black athletic shorts, his thick muscles and flawless tattoos on full display for me.
My eyes rake over his chest, tracing the lines of his abdomen down to the deep V leading into his shorts.
A sly smirk pulls at Jamie’s lips. “See something you like?”
I shoot him a smirk of my own, but shrug my shoulders in feigned indifference.
“I’m trying to be polite and talk a little before I throw you on my bed and make you come,” Jamie says, pulling my waist flush with his and burying his face in the crook of my neck, trailing kisses up to my ear, pulling a shiver from my skin.
“I don’t want polite,” I respond, voice breathy. My nails dig into his shoulders as I arch into his touch. “It’s been too long; I’m not patient enough for polite.”
His calloused fingers find their way beneath the hem of my sweatshirt and up over the front of my bra, one exploratory hand palming my breast gently.
“What do you want, love?” His distracting mouth brushes over my jaw, hovering millimeters from my own as his other hand wraps around my back, gliding over my ass, and ending with a firm squeeze.
“I think you know,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he pulls his face back, tauntingly, smiling smugly.
“What if I want to hear you say it?” he whispers in return, trying to goad me into begging.
Instead of responding to his teasing, I decide I need to turn the tables. Two can play this game.
I drag my hands down the front of his body, over his pecs, scraping my nails over his abs, and he flexes involuntarily beneath my fingers. The waistband of his shorts has a drawstring, and I slowly pull it loose. When my hand reaches under the fabric, his hard cock twitches against my palm.
I close my hand around the thick shaft and give him a light tug. I send my most seductive grin his way, and his pupils go wide as I begin to sink down to my knees in front of him.
“Maya,” he starts, voice suddenly strained. All of his previous bravado suddenly morphed into hesitant desperation.
Tugging his shorts down his thighs, I take my time running my eyes over every part of the naked man standing over me. His thick thighs and the tattoo I did for him—now healed—drawing my attention up to his dick, rigid in my grasp and leaking at the tip.
Leaning in, I glide the flat of my tongue over the bead of liquid, holding contact with those steely gray eyes.
“Tell me what you want, love. I want to hear you say it,” I taunt, throwing his words back at him before licking the sensitive underside of his cock, pulling a groan from his throat.
“Fuck, you don’t have to…” He trails off as my lips wrap around him, pulling him halfway into my mouth, slowly, seductively.
“What do you want?” I ask again, popping him from between my lips.
Jamie groans, low and desperate, one more time as he answers. “I want to fuck that pretty mouth.” He reaches down, pulling the clip from my hair and tossing it onto the carpet before tangling his hands in my curls, guiding my mouth back down.
He pushes in slowly, working his way into my mouth until he’s pressed to the hilt, and my throat constricts around him. He pulls out and thrusts in a few more times, never taking his eyes off me, even as his jaw slackens and his head tips back slightly.
Jamie is a veritable Adonis looming above me, and my stomach flips at the thought that I’m able to break through his hard exterior, get him this undone.
He pulls out slightly, giving me a reprieve. I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft, pumping up and down as I hollow my cheeks around his crown one more time.
Cupping a hand around my chin, he pulls me back, helping me stand as he kisses me fiercely. His tongue tangles with my own and somehow he manages to remove my shirt and pants without hardly breaking contact.
My knees threaten to buckle as his lips mingle with mine, sparks jolting through my nerve endings as he touches and explores every inch of me.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, spinning our bodies and backing me up into the foot of the bed. Jamie unhooks the clasp of my bra with deft fingers, and I fall back onto the mattress, pulling him down with me.
“I need you. Please. Now,” I pant, begging the words into the skin of his neck as he holds himself above me. I feel the chuckle shake through his chest as he pulls my underwear down my legs—the last article of clothing between us.
“All that teasing made you soaked for me,” Jamie remarks, sliding a finger into the wet heat and drawing slow, steady circles around my clit.
I moan softly as the sensation he’s eliciting shoots up my spine. “Jamie.”
His movements show as he bends down and plants another soft kiss on my lips. “I know last time…I got caught up in the heat of the moment,” he begins, voice low and reserved. “I’m clean, though. I haven’t been with anyone but you in…well, over a year, I think.”
The fog of lust takes a moment to leave my head and I finally register what he’s saying to me.
“A year?” I ask incredulously, sure I misheard.
Jamie nods. “I…I don’t like hook-ups very often. It’s hard to trust people when they clearly only want me for my name. And, besides, after everything I’ve been through…sometimes the thought of endless meaningless sex makes me feel…wrong. Like I’m going to be just like him one day.”
My eyes soften, understanding. “You could never be like him.” Jamie presses his forehead to my sternum.
“I’m not judging…but Halloween, you…you didn’t know it was me, and you were going to…” I tread lightly, not sure that my question won’t offend him.
He huffs a laugh into my chest. “I’m not saying I haven’t had the occasional hook-up over the years, but I don’t make a habit of it.
” He pulls his head back to lock eyes with me once more.
“I was being stupid that night. I was drunk, and seeing you at the tattoo shop dredged up all the feelings I had been pushing down all those years, and I thought maybe I could find someone to distract me from the thought of you.
“And I saw you walk in—with your costume on and everything—and I remember thinking you were the hottest girl at that damn party, and I didn’t even know who was under the mask.
But your outfit, the boots, the tattoos, you looked like exactly what I wanted.
So, yeah, I jumped on the chance to hit on you… ”
“And that’s why you were so upset it was me?” I ask, laughing slightly, and Jamie laughs with me.
“Fate had other ideas, I guess,” he replies, kissing my collarbone. “Anyway, I was going to say that even though we…I…forgot to use one in the locker room, I have condoms in the nightstand.”
I shake my head, running my fingers through his soft hair and kissing his temple. “I’m okay with whatever you want to do, Jamie. I’m clean, I have an IUD, and I trust you. I want all of you, always. But I also want you comfortable.”
He brings his face back to mine, capturing my lips with his in a thorough, possessive, consuming kiss as the apprehension and shame leave him in lieu of my words.
The tension he was holding moments ago dissipates as he falls back into this moment with me, caressing my skin and warming my heart with his whispers.
And when he presses into me—no longer rushed, no longer teasing, and without a barrier between us—it’s like the world has finally righted itself. This is exactly where we’re meant to be.