Chapter 18
Eighteen
Carter
River throws herself down on her pillow and releases a sigh. At first, I panicked and tried waking her up, thinking it was a nightmare, but then she called out for me again, and her hips bucked off the bed.
Now, it’s taking everything in me to lie here and pretend to be asleep when what I really want to do is go against all logic in my mind that’s been holding me back from fucking my wife.
I told her I wasn’t fucking her until she admits who she belongs to, but I swear to Christ, if I hear one more sweet sound leave her lips, I might break my own damn rule.
Lying here with my eyes closed, I try like hell to tell my dick now is not the time. He’s not getting the memo. I feel her hand on my cheek, and in an instant, her lips are on mine.
Don’t. Fucking. Move.
My fists squeeze tight as I use every bit of self-control I have left to stay perfectly still and not reciprocate her kiss as her lips mold to mine.
Her fingertips lightly trail down my arm, and my entire body ignites.
Heat and tingles spread, and goosebumps rise to my flesh.
I know River. When she’s ready, she’ll come to me, but for now, I’ll love her quietly.
Allow her this stolen moment, a secret she thinks she’s the only one in on.
Her lips leave mine, and the bed dips, the blankets rustling next to me. I keep my eyes closed until I hear the soft click of the bathroom door. Peeling my eyes back open, I turn to look at the time on my phone. Five forty-five in the morning.
Fuck me.
I need to take care of this situation. My hand reaches down, and I squeeze my cock, trying to alleviate the ache.
I slide my hand down, then back up, imagining it’s hers.
The water cuts off, and the door opens. Jolting, I jerk my hand away and squeeze my eyes closed.
My heart thumps wildly in my ears as I wait for her to leave the room.
After the door closes with a soft click, I wait fifteen minutes, then resign myself to the fact that I’ll just have to suffer from blue balls all fucking day and roll out of bed.
I handle my morning business, then trail my ass to the kitchen to make River’s coffee.
I hit brew and look around for her, but she’s nowhere to be found, so I open the sliding glass door to the back yard.
Of course, this is where I find her, hair in a ponytail, arms pushed high above her head as she stretches.
She’s in one of those sports top things, and the way those yoga pants hug her ass causes my jaw to tick and my cock to throb from my lack of relief earlier.
I release a breath, resolved to the fact that I’m gonna have to work out with her—like we do every morning—and pretend to be clueless.
“Ready?”
She doesn’t answer. As I approach her from behind, she spins around, and I take a fist to the gut.
Holy fucking shit, River.
“Holy fucking shit, Carter.” She snatches the earbuds out of her ears. “Oh my God, you scared the ever-loving hell out of me. I’m so sorry. I just reacted. Are you okay? God, please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to.”
“Come here, baby.”
She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m so sorry.”
“I'm good, okay? I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. But do you remember what we talked about?”
She shakes her head. “We talked about a lot of things.”
“I know your instinct is to react first and ask questions later, but you need to turn and face the person approaching you. Assess if that person’s a threat. What if you punch someone for no reason?”
“I did punch someone for no reason.”
“Someone other than me.” I chuckle and release her. “What if it were my mom?”
“I know. I know. But I always feel threatened.”
“That’s where the pivot comes in, you gotta pivot your body out of the line of whoever is approaching and assess the situation. Also, we’ve already talked about this.” I take the earbuds from her hand. “Only one earbud in at a time, never both, okay?”
She nods.
“Attagirl. Alright. Since this was Jaxon’s favorite, we’re gonna practice it. Hair first, then throat. Let’s go.”
“But we do that all the time.”
“And we’re gonna keep doing it all the time.”
River faces the yard, and I grab her hair. She lets out a little moan.
Oh fuck.
That little moan has me thinking about her on all fours with her hair wrapped around my hand—I pull a little harder—and goddammit, this is not the fucking time.
She spins to the outside, grabs my head, bringing up her knee. We work through that a few times before I wrap my hand around her throat. Her eyes flutter closed, and a small gasp escapes her parted lips.
I lean in, lining my lips up with the shell of her ear. “Did you have a bad dream this morning? I heard you whimper.”
“Yes. It was awful. The fucking worst.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
River falters her movements, and her eyes slowly climb to mine. It’s taking all I have in me to not laugh and keep a straight face. I think she had a very naughty sex dream about me.
“No.” She grunts out as she wraps her arm around mine and forces my hold to break.
Damn, was dream Carter so bad in bed that she won’t want to have sex with the real me? Or maybe dream Carter was so good she’s scared I won’t measure up. Oh fuck. Now that’s an interesting take.
Playtime is over. I can’t train her when we’re in this state of mind. I need to move on to something harder. Something she’s been struggling with.
“Let’s do some groundwork. Lay down on your back, I’m gonna wrap my hands around your throat.”
She swallows hard but does as I tell her. I straddle her, wrapping both hands around her neck. Panic sets in. She begins struggling, bucking her hips, and clawing at my arms. Her face turns red even though my hold is loose.
“I’m not squeezing tight, but someone else might. Do what I taught you and break out.”
“I can’t breathe,” she pants.
I break the hold and sit up, placing my hands on my thighs. “Let’s move through the motions together, slowly, alright?”
She calms down, and I start all over again.
Once I have both hands around her throat, I walk her through it.
“Good, now take a few deep breaths. It’s just me, baby.
I’m not gonna hurt you. Take both hands and wrap them around my left arm.
Good. Good. Now, lock my feet against your thighs with your own feet and pull down on my arm.
Alright, now, roll me over, and do your thing. ”
Doing exactly as I instruct, we roll.
“See there? That’s my girl. Now faster this time and finish me off.”
We go again. River wraps, locks, pulls, and rolls for a second time. Then she straddles me, grinding down on my cock, and mocking a palm strike to the nose.
Holy hell.
My eyes squeeze tight. I can’t even tell her what she’s doing wrong because I’m thinking with the wrong goddamn head.
She freezes, no doubt feeling my length swell underneath her.
The damn woman grinds down on me again. I grab her hips to stop her, or hell, maybe it’s to create more friction.
Fuck, I don’t know at this point. Licking my lips, I swallow the lump in my throat and open my eyes.
“You’re not supposed to straddle. You need to be ready to get away quickly.” My words come out hoarse.
She leans down, her lips grazing the shell of my ear as she whispers, “Yeah. But I got you on your back, and now I’m finishing you off.”
“I’ll stay on my back if that’s how you want it. All you have to do is say the words I wanna hear.”
She lifts her head and her eyes lock with mine, her fingers pressing into my chest. “I-I’m—”
“Oh, God. Are you two really about to go at it right here on our parents’ lawn?” Cam interrupts.
My eyes close, and I release an exasperated sigh.
Fuck around.
“I’m gonna hit the shower,” I say as River pushes to stand.
She was about to say it . . . I know she was.
Ice flies from under my skates as I change direction, heading toward Jerome.
He’s pinned between two guys against the boards, trying to gain possession of the puck.
This team has come to play, and it hasn’t helped that Sean’s been distracted.
He’s left himself wide open, and three pucks have flown past him.
We’re down by two. The only person holding this shitshow together is my boy Cal, but that’s not gonna be enough if Sean keeps playing the way he has been—letting puck after puck fly right past him.
A guy shoves off Jerome, driving the puck around the crease, over the red line, and down the right side.
I move into the shot lane. They pass. Cal cuts to the left and takes a stick between his skates.
He goes down. No one calls the fucking penalty.
My eyes zero in on number ten. This mother fucker’s been playing dirty all night. I take off. Puck forgotten. He rounds the crease. I slam into him, driving my elbow into the spot between his pads.
Throwing down his stick, he shoves me. “Fuck you.”
“No thanks, pretty boy. Not really my type. But you do look like you need your ass beat.”
My gloves come off. My stick hits the ice, and so does his helmet. I pivot around him. He slams me against the boards, crowding my space. I push him off me.
He circles around me like a little bitch.
I take a fist to the mouth.
Fucking worth it.
My fist flies. I don’t stop. We slip and slide all over the ice, holding onto one another with one hand, landing punch after punch.
Oops. Was that a tooth?
Blood drips from his mouth as a linesman breaks us up, escorting us to the bin. Ten leans over, trash-talking me with a towel pressed against his mouth. I can’t understand him through his muffles, and I really don’t give a shit what he has to say.
I toss a wink, then smirk and yell back, “Don’t forget to pick up your tooth after the game!”
Arizona has the advantage, and time isn’t on our side. Three minutes to go, and I’m out for the rest of the game.
Shit!
I watch as my team loses and hang my head.
We hit the locker room, and my helmet flies to the other side, slamming against the wall.
Cal walks by and picks it up, setting it down on a bench.
I hate losing. It’s not something I’m very good at.
And it especially sucks when the loss is partially my fault because I didn’t look at the clock before I went after that fucker for tripping up Cal.
Then there’s Sean . . . I don’t know what has him so damn distracted, but his head wasn’t in it tonight. I sit down, leaning my head back against the wall. Coach comes in red-faced, throwing his clipboard. It clatters to the ground.
“Graham! You couldn’t reign it in for the last five fucking minutes? We could have used you out there! And Mac! What the fuck’s going on with you tonight?”
Sean doesn’t speak as he stands there with his hands on his hips, head hanging in defeat.
“Come see me tomorrow.”
“Yes, Coach,” he says as Coach picks up his clipboard and walks out of the locker room.
Letting out a breath, I run a hand through my hair.
I deserved an ass chewing. I fucked up. And even though Sean let puck after puck fly by him, I’m not angry at him.
I feel bad for him. Coach has been breathing down his neck non-stop.
I know that kind of pressure can mess with your head and your game.
I push to stand, making my way over to sit beside him. “Hey, man. You alright? Wanna talk about why you were so distracted?”
Sitting on the bench next to me, he braces both elbows on his knees and shakes his head.
Aiden bends down and scoffs, a frown marring his brows while he unlaces his skates. He looks over at Sean. I’ve never seen him so pissed.
“When I told you to go to the mattresses, I meant it as a metaphor,” he grumbles.
What?
“No, man. You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did,” I say to Sean.
Aiden and Hannah are close. Really fucking close.
When we’re all out, those two stick together like glue.
I always thought they had a thing, but now that I’m looking at Aiden, I don’t see hurt, like you would in a jilted lover.
I see fury. Something I’ve never really seen in him before.
He’s usually a goofball and jokes about stuff he shouldn’t, but this? This is different.
This animosity from Coach is already affecting our entire team. I can’t imagine the hell that’s gonna break loose if and when he catches wind of Sean and Hannah. When I look at Sean, I see the guilt in his eyes.
“Listen. It’s not some fuck-and-duck shit.
We met a long time ago. Our friends were dating, and they tried hooking us up.
She came up to Boston, and we all went out and got drunk, but nothing really happened back then.
My career was starting to take off, and she was about to graduate from college.
The timing was off. But then I came here and .
. .” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
“Fuck! It’s just been a little fun here and there over the past couple of months.
She knew what it was . . . but now she wants more, and I can’t do that.
I mean, look at who her dad is. I’ve been trying to end it for a couple of weeks.
But then last night she . . . her room was right next to mine and—”
Aiden storms off toward the showers. “I can’t even listen to this shit.”
He takes a few steps before spinning back around.
“When I gave you that advice, I meant stand up to her dad and stop being a pussy. But now, I see this was all a game to you. A little fun. You might be my best friend, but so is she, and if I have to choose between you two, I will choose her. Every damn time.”
As he leaves, my brows raise. “Looks like you've got yourself a new set of problems, bro.”
“What do you mean?”
I shake my head. If he can’t see it, then I’m not saying a word. It’s not my place, and I don’t even know if Aiden has admitted to himself that he has feelings for Hannah. The locker room begins to fill with our teammates, wrapped in towels.
“We’ll talk about this some other time when people aren’t around to listen. You still coming to Friendsgiving next week?”
He nods as I stand, stripping out of my gear. “Come on, dude. Pull yourself together. I’m gonna hit the shower.”
He’s got a long road ahead if he thinks he can fight whatever this is . . . especially if Aiden has anything to say about it.