Chapter Eight
Kingston
Waking up to Evie in my bed is the culmination of every dream I've ever had. She's so sweet when she sleeps, and so fucking soft. I can't help but pull her closer, my hands drifting across her body, just to feel her come alive for me.
Long before her eyes open, she's whimpering my name.
There isn't a man alive who'd blame me for slipping between her legs and licking her awake. I taste myself on her, and my cock has never been harder or more desperate.
I ignore the hard bastard, eating her until she's fully awake, her hands fisted in my hair as she grinds against my face, begging for more. I give it to her, flipping her to her stomach and fucking her until she's screaming.
She sounds so sweet when she's screaming for me.
By the time I'm finished with her, she's limp beneath me, her body plastered to the bed like she's part of it. She's never looked more beautiful than she does in this moment.
My heart squeezes in a vise, threatening to rip itself in half just to belong to her. I don't think I've ever wanted anything as badly as I want a lifetime of her just like this.
"Are you still falling for me, princess?" I ask, my lips at her ear.
"Maybe," she says.
I nuzzle her throat, praying to a God I'm not even sure I believe in that she keeps falling. I'll be right here to catch her when she's ready to land. She'll be safe in my arms, where she belongs.
"Are you going to run if I tell you that I'm not?"
She goes rigid beneath me, then turns her head oh so slowly to face me. I realize as soon as I see her face that she misunderstood. She thinks I've changed my mind.
As if that's even a possibility.
"I'm already there, princess," I murmur, brushing sweaty tendrils of hair away from her cheek. "So fucking deep, there is no getting out again."
"Kingston, are you…" She trails off, licking her lips. The way hope and fear war on her face is devastating in the best way, like her whole world hinges on me right now. "What are you saying?"
"That I'm in love with you. Wildly. Desperately." My lips curve into a grin. "So much so that I don't even give a shit that there is probably a throng of paparazzi outside right now, just waiting to see if you spent the night here."
Her eyes widen. "There are photographers out there?"
"Probably." I study her face. "If you want me to sneak you out of here, I'll do it, Evie.
I'll come to you in secret after my game tonight, and we can pretend that what happened on the stage last night was just for show.
We'll act like we're just friends who were having a good time, and nothing more.
I'm willing to do whatever you need me to do to prove that the only thing I'm interested in is you.
I don't give a shit about my brand, hitching myself to your star, or getting close to your dad.
I didn't even know Kasen was your dad until after we met.
I just want you, baby. I want the girl who learned to sing in church, and the woman who guards her heart so closely she was willing to step over me on live television.
I want the one who lies about having a husband, stalks me even though she won't ever admit it, and who sings like a fucking angel.
I want every messy, perfect piece of you. "
She flips over beneath me, staring up at me in silence for so long, I think maybe she is going to ask that we keep this a secret. It'll kill me if she doesn't want the whole world to know she's mine, but I'm willing to give her that.
I know a little bit about what she's been through. I've been there myself. When I first joined the league, there were vultures everywhere, desperate to be seen with me just so they could claim their fifteen minutes.
I imagine it's been a whole helluva lot worse for her than it ever was for me. Athletes are a dime a dozen. A woman like Evie is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of star. She isn't good because her father is a superstar. She's fucking phenomenal all on her own.
"I want to go to your game."
I blink, certain I heard her wrong.
She touches my cheek, smiling. "I may be slow to trust, but I'm not an idiot, Kingston.
I can see a good man when he's in front of me, putting his heart on the line.
You're a good man," she whispers vehemently.
"I don't care if people see us together.
I don't care what they're going to say. If I did, I wouldn't have asked you to join me on stage last night. "
"But you're nervous."
"Hell yes," she says with a little laugh. "My dad is a crazy person. He already wants to meet you. My mom is not going to be able to keep him in bed if I'm seen leaving here."
"Keep him in bed?" I arch a brow, confused.
"He was just released from the hospital not long ago. Appendicitis. He's supposed to be resting." She rolls her eyes, her expression soft. "Trust me, he'll be on the first flight out if I'm seen leaving here this morning."
"So…what if we beat him to the punch?" I suggest.
"How so?"
"We catch a flight in the morning. He can threaten me like your sister did from the comfort of his own bed." I stroke my hand down her cheek. "And I can tell him that I'll sign whatever goddamn prenup he wants me to sign so long as he agrees to let me marry his baby girl."
She gapes at me, her lips parting. "W-what?"
I grab her hand, hooking my pinky around her ring finger. "My ring is going to be right here, princess. I told you the day we met to save this finger for me. I meant it."
"You're a madman, you know that?"
"I wasn't this way until I met you."
She tries to fight a smile but doesn't quite manage it. "Everly threatened you?"
"Hell yes." I flip onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. "Remind me never to get on her bad side. She's fucking terrifying."
Evie buries her face in my shoulder, her laughter spilling out across the room.
I roll, pinning her beneath me again. "Fuck," I growl, already hard enough to pound nails again. "I love that sound. Do it again."
"What?"
"Laugh," I growl. "I want to feel you do it while I'm inside you."
"Oh." Her eyes widen, and then she feels my cock nudging at her entrance and moans. "Oh."
I fuck her slow, saying every ridiculous thing I can think up, just to feel the way she clenches around me when her breath hitches and she moans through a giggle.
Ten stars. Will do again.
As expected, there are paparazzi outside my place, waiting to see if she spent the night. But she doesn't hide on the floorboard, trying not to be seen. She doesn't hide at all.
Instead, she sits up proudly as we drive through the throng, her hand laced with mine.
They probably snap enough pictures of us to make their bosses' heads explode with glee. But it doesn't really matter. We already posted one. She's on my lap on the couch, her lips against my cheek, with my arms around her.
We're Instagram official.
It's the best goddamn day of my life.
There are paparazzi outside her place when we pull up an hour later. We ignore them, pulling into her garage. She's out of my truck before I even have a chance to open the door for her.
"Wait for me next time, Evie."
"What?" She frowns up at me, confusion in her gaze.
"Wait for me to get the door for you next time, baby."
"Oh." Her frown dissolves into the sweetest smile. "Okay."
I groan, scooping her up in my arms just to taste that smile. At least, that's the plan. But then she's in my arms, her legs around my waist, and my plan gets shot all to hell.
I have no idea how I make it up the steps into her living room. I don't even know how I spot the piano in the corner or remember what she said about it… But I do.
"W-what are you doing?" she gasps, her eyes wide and dilated when I drop her in front of it, spinning her around to face it.
"Making your dream come true," I growl. "Where's your sister?"
"Probably at her apartment," she moans, arching back for me.
"Rufus?"
"Still with Everly. That's probably why she's been calling all morning. He's probably driving her nuts."
We're alone. That's all I need to know. I rip her shorts and panties down her legs, leaving her bare from the waist down.
"Spread wide, princess. Let me see how wet you are for me."
She does, gripping the edge of the piano for balance, her ass tilted up for my inspection. Her skin is so fucking soft, I can't resist palming those perfect curves, stroking her until she shudders.
I sink to my knees behind her, my mouth right at her pussy as I tug at my zipper, trying to give my dick a little breathing room. She pushes back, greedy for it.
I oblige, flicking my tongue out to savor the taste I can't get enough of.
Fuck, she's dripping.
I press my tongue inside her, and she gasps, both hands flying to the keys. The piano gives a discordant little clamor in response. She laughs through a moan, twisting to glare at me over her shoulder like she thinks I did it on purpose.
"You're insane," she pants.
I grin against her, nipping at the flesh just below her ass as I slide two fingers inside her. "Play me something, princess."
"What?"
"Play me something," I repeat.
"Are you serious?"
"Deadly."
She grumbles, but her hands find the keys, and she starts to play—a slow, halting version of something that sounds half like a lullaby and half like a pop song. Every time she's almost got the notes right, I curl my fingers, and she shudders, losing the rhythm.
Soon, she's not even playing anymore, just letting her hands collapse onto the keys as I fuck her with my tongue.
The piano wails and groans beneath her, every jolt of her hips broadcasting a cacophony of wild sound into the empty house.
I want to brand this memory into my brain: Evie with her legs spread wide, trembling under my touch, making music and noise and every other beautiful mess she can.
She's shaking by the time I stand, my chest pressed to her back. My cock is already out, throbbing with every ragged breath she takes. I don't even have to guide myself—the head finds her heat on instinct.
I bury myself to the hilt in a single, desperate thrust.
She gasps, her hands clawing at the black-and-white keys, sending up a triumphant clatter. I set a brutal rhythm, fucking her so hard the piano itself shudders.
She just takes it, moaning, crying out, begging for more.
I tell myself to go slow, to savor it, but my body doesn't listen. It never does, not with her. I lose myself completely, drowning in the feel of her, the scent of her, the sound of her voice, and the music she makes, both accidental and utterly genuine.
She falls forward, her chest pressed to the keys, and the piano blasts a broken chord that vibrates right through her body. Her breath stutters. I can feel the tremor in her thighs, the way her whole body tenses, and I know she's right there.
I hook my arm around her waist, holding her up, and drop my mouth to her shoulder, my teeth scraping her skin. "I love you," I choke out, the words raw, jagged, unstoppable. "Evie, fuck, I love you so much it hurts."
She turns, her face pressed against my neck, and bites down as she comes, screaming my name. Her whole body clamps around me.
I spill inside her, coming so hard I nearly black out, my face buried in the soft curve of her neck.
We collapse onto the piano bench in a ruin of shaking limbs. Somehow, I manage to yank her onto my lap, burying my face in her throat.
"I love you," I say again, just so she knows I mean it.
"Kingston," she whimpers, her lips seeking mine.
We're still right there, tangled together like that, when the door opens. My soul flees my fucking body when I see her father step into the living room, a big grin plastered across his face.
"Baby girl, I'm he—" he booms, and then he spots us, his shout dying in his throat. He blinks once. Twice. His grin slips. "What the fuck?"
Fuck.
Coach J is going to be so pissed when they have to cancel the game to search for my body tonight.