Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Savannah
When I wake up in the morning, Brayden is storming around the room. “Do you know what happened when I connected my AirPods to my phone?” he snarls.
I blink a few times until the room comes more into focus.
Brayden is in joggers and a T-shirt, like he was about to go running.
Except stuff is strewn around the room like he’s been digging it out and attempting to put it back into place, mostly incorrectly.
He has a certain wildness about him I don’t trust. “No, what happened?”
“My headphones wouldn’t connect. So I opened up the Bluetooth menu. Guess what popped up?”
My stomach drops. “Um.”
“There’s something called Sav’s toy nearby.”
“Oh, yeah, about that…” I scramble for an explanation. “I brought it on the trip because—”
He cuts me off. “Do you think I care that you have a vibrator? Or do you think my issue is that the full name on it is Sav’s toy from AA?”
Fuck. I assumed that wouldn’t be visible to anyone else. Wrongly, apparently. I should have gone for something innocuous in comparison like wedding gift or possibly, stick of dynamite.
“Who’s AA?” Brayden presses, but it’s obvious he knows exactly who that is. “And why is he giving you that?”
I scramble out of bed. My sleep clothes have shifted during the night.
My shirt is stretched at the collar. My shorts are barely covering my ass.
I feel similarly twisted out of shape standing on the hotel carpet.
Still, Brayden isn’t stupid. There’s no sense in denying it. “AA is who you think he is.”
“If he’s giving you that…how many times?” Brayden growls.
I take an instinctive step back, until the backs of my knees reach the bed. “How many times what?”
Brayden looks like he’s doing everything in his power to keep himself in control. He’s pacing like he wants to wear his energy into the carpet. He hasn’t moved toward me. “How many times did you let him fuck you?”
“Once.” I shake my head. “Twice.”
Realization seems to come over him. “The baseball bat in the kitchen.”
“Yeah.”
“When else?”
“Um”—my heart starts going hard against my ribs—“last night at the restaurant. Bray, listen, I’m so sorry. If you want to split up…” Because that was what we’d agreed to. Brayden gets to sleep with whoever he wants, and I can’t. I knew what I was doing when I fucked Asher, and I did it anyway.
Brayden stops pacing. Pins me with a stare. “C’mere.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” But I approach where he’s standing.
Brayden takes my arm—not hard, but definite—and points me so I’m facing out the floor-to-ceiling window that’s open to the bright Chicago morning.
We’re high enough up in the hotel that the only thing that’s immediately across from us is the lake, a few small boats already out on the water.
“See all those people?” Brayden’s mouth is close to my ear, his arm possessive around the curve of my waist.
The hair on my arms stands up—fear?—but no, my nipples are tightening in my shirt. He nudges a foot between my legs, strokes a hand down my spine, bends me forward, stops when his hand gets to my lower, lower back.
“Those people are gonna think I don’t know how to take care of my wife.” He raises his hand, gives my ass a light smack, not even hard enough to leave a mark, just enough that it feels sensitized. My nipples brush the cold window glass. My pussy floods.
Then he stops. Withdraws his hand like he’s just going to leave me here, legs spread, body bent, an ache gathering at my core.
I crane my neck back, looking at him challengingly. “So are you going to go on letting people think that?”
“Greedy.” Brayden comes up behind me, spits on his fingers, dips his hand beneath the front of my waistband until it’s between my legs. Feels where I’m wet. “Did he make you come?”
I hitch a breath. It sounds incredibly loud in the silent room. Nod.
“No, let me hear you.” Brayden’s fingers quicken their pace. “In fact, let everybody hear you.”
“Yes.” The word comes out shaky. “Yes, he made me come. Once when you were in the house. Another time in the restaurant.”
Brayden snorts. “Only twice? Fucking amateur.” He yanks off my shirt by the hem, pulls down my shorts.
Bends me until I’m completely bare and open to him.
Plunges two fingers in, working me from a different angle until my nerves light up and my body starts to go liquid. “Did you fuck him raw?” Brayden asks.
“You wanna know how his cock felt inside me? You want to hear about how he filled me up so good?” I say it nice and loud.
It’s possible that Asher is in the next room, aware of exactly what’s happening.
It’s possible he’s furious, the way Brayden supposedly is, or that he has his hand on his cock and he’s jerking off thinking about me—about Brayden and me together.
“Keep that up.” Brayden spanks me again, this time without a layer of cloth between his hand and my ass, sending tingles through my body. “In fact, keep talking about him and see where that gets you.”
He spanks me a few more times, enough that I start to drip, then stops that in favor of pinching my nipples, hard enough that it’s just on the painful side of pleasure.
“One day, I’m gonna make you come just from this,” he says. “But today I’ll be nice.” He drops one hand from my waist to my pussy, positions two fingers right under my clit, curving back. Strokes and winds a hand into my hair, tugging sharply enough that I cry out right as I come.
My orgasm shoots through me, a blink of white. A shake in my legs. Brayden eases me toward the floor, smiles when my mouth ends up level with his cock. “We’re not finished,” he says. “Go get that fucking vibrator.”
For a second, I think I misheard him. “What?”
“You want to fuck yourself with a toy he got you? So go get it.”
I’m about to peel myself off the floor when Brayden shakes his head. “Crawl.”
I should tell him no. Tell him that if he wants the vibrator, he can go get it himself.
I’m not a princess, but I don’t crawl. Yet, my hands start moving of their own accord, slowly, then faster, as I make my way across the room.
It should be humiliating—the floor has plush carpeting for a hotel, but it’s still hotel carpeting, slightly rough under my hands and knees.
When I look back, Brayden is watching me, palming himself through the fabric of his joggers.
It takes a full minute to reach my suitcase. I dig through it and withdraw the charging case where I stored the vibrator after I cleaned it last night. “It’s, uh, here.”
“Get on the bed.”
I do, walking on my knees until my hands are against the padded half-headboard. Brayden comes up behind me. I crane my neck back. His joggers are tented, a wet patch forming on the gray fabric. Slowly, he pulls them down. His cock is rigid against his belly, head almost purple from how hard he is.
I clench my thighs together, motion obvious.
“So greedy,” he says. This time it sounds like a compliment. “You look good like this. But you’re gonna look better coming all over my cock.”
He strokes himself a few times, then stops. “Bare okay?” He asks it quietly, like he doesn’t want Asher to overhear. “I got checked in April.”
“What about since April?” I ask.
“I haven’t been with anyone else.” Brayden says it like it’s the most obvious thing.
“At our wedding, you had a mark right—” I touch my neck illustratively.
He frowns for a moment like he’s trying to remember. “I got hit by a ball during batting practice.”
“And the photos with other women?” I press.
“Just photos. Most of them thought I was Blake.”
“I have a—” My mind scrambles for the word IUD. “I won’t get pregnant, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He blinks at that. Smiles the same kind of smile Asher had on last night. “I wasn’t.” Brayden shoves his joggers the rest of the way down his legs, sits on the bed with his back against the headboard. “I want you on top of me.”
Not what I was expecting. I’m strong enough to hold my own weight, but even then, I’m still not light. “Are you sure?”
Brayden winds his arms around my waist, positions me so I’m across his lap, legs on either side of his hips.
“I’m sure,” he says, simply. He leans and kisses my shoulder, a line down my neck, cradles both of my breasts in his hands and strokes his thumbs across my nipples.
Before, I thought he was going to fuck me to prove a point.
Now, I’m not sure what point he’s trying to make.
He takes his cock in hand and guides himself to my entrance. Slowly, I sink down. My pussy is swollen from my previous orgasm—I pant a few times, adjusting to how thick he feels, how at this angle he’s so deep I can practically taste it in my throat.
I’ve had sex before last night—not a huge amount, but enough.
With Asher, it felt different: hot and frantic and so desperate I was willing to blow up my marriage.
With Brayden, I ride him while his hands drift all over my body, from my shoulders to my chest to the rolls on each side of my waist, to my hips and back up, again and again.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he says.
“Since we got married?”
He shakes his head. “Since the moment we first met.” He pulls me to him, kisses me deeply, pushes himself even deeper inside me until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
Is that what this is supposed to feel like all the time? I want to say. Not to Asher, but to all the other men who came before, who were, in retrospect, just jerking themselves off using my body.
A minute later, Brayden’s hips snap up like he’s been keeping himself under control—and that control is starting to fray.
“Okay, change of plans.” He gropes around on the bedspread until he finds the vibrator and flicks it on.
For some reason, a thump comes from the hotel room next door—Asher’s room—like he just slammed his hand against a hard surface.
“Huh,” Brayden says, sarcastically, “wonder if he can hear us.”
He guides me on my back, brings one leg up over his shoulder, drives himself into me, impossibly deeper, until my pussy throbs around him. Wets his thumb in my mouth then drops it to play with my clit.
Pleasure courses through me, in the soles of my feet, the small of my back. A noise gathers in my throat—a wordless yell—as my body tenses.
“That’s it, let him hear you,” Brayden says. “Let him know exactly who’s doing this to you.” He grabs the vibrator and presses it right to my entrance, mean, unrelenting, and somehow both too much and almost, almost enough. I clench my eyes shut, overwhelmed.
“No,” he snarls, “eyes on me. I don’t want you to think you’re with anyone else.” He increases the vibrator’s speed impossibly higher. “You stood at that altar and promised to forsake all others.”
I’m panting now, orgasm building inside me like a storm. “I did.”
“And you broke that promise.”
“I did.”
“See, that’s how we’re different, Sav. I don’t break my fucking promises.”
He touches the vibrator to my clit, and that’s it, that's all it takes. I’m coming, squeezing around him, scratching my nails up his back and moaning as he shakes through an orgasm that spills into me, hot and wet and seemingly never-ending.
He pulls out and I think that's the end of it when he buries his hand between my legs, fingering me until I come again, another wave of it—this one like an ocean overwhelming me before I gasp for him to stop.
After, Brayden looks up at me, face lit, body collapsing into the bed.
I do the same into the pillows, hoping the housekeepers will change the sheets or possibly bring us a whole new mattress.
Around us, the hotel is coming to life. Distantly there’s the sound of people walking through the hallway—Brayden’s teammates—and the noise of the city rising up from the streets.
“I need to go to the park.” He groans it but doesn’t move.
“You missed your morning run.”
“I did cardio.” Brayden smirks at that, and his hair has gotten longer since we first met, long enough I can reach and drag my fingers through it. “I’m gonna clean myself up. You should stay here. Order room service. Read your favorite articles—the ones with the really tiny font.”
I laugh. “Somehow I wasn’t thinking about studying.”
“Then go shopping. Buy yourself a hundred of those dresses so I can tear them right off you.” Brayden grins, smiling more than I’ve ever seen him.
It’s…nice, even if there’s an edge to it I don’t quite trust. “Guys are gonna know you got laid if you go into the clubhouse smiling like that.”
“That’s the plan,” Brayden says.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Adler and I are gonna have a conversation.” Though conversation sounds a whole lot like fight.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, don’t do it.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t do something drastic. I’m not the one who tried to steal my teammate’s girl, after all.”
“I wasn’t your girl.” But I might be now, and I’ll think about that…later, when I’m not worried there’s gonna be clubhouse drama.
“Yeah, but Adler didn’t know that.” Brayden leans down and drops a kiss on my cheek. “And someone needs to remind him of that fact.”