31. Ariella
THIRTY-ONE
ARIELLA
THE MOUTH ON THIS MAN…
We filed offstage, seeking refuge from the crowd in my office.
My body buzzed with the adrenaline of trying to keep my attitude in check that whole time. I’d be damned if I let someone who was clearly trying to rattle me succeed.
“What a cunt,” Gracie exclaimed, storming in. “And that photo? Who the fuck cares about you two eating a burger? It wasn’t like they caught him feeding you his protein-style meal.”
Dalton choked, bending at the waist to try and catch his breath from the sudden burst of laughter. I should have warned him that her filter was nonexistent. In fact, that was her keeping it tame. Give her a few times of being around him, and she’d vividly walk through her horizontal tango escapades.
“ Ay , Graciella.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting off my own laugh. It wasn’t good to encourage her—it went straight to her head, and then suddenly, she thought she was a standup comedian .
She plopped down into a chair, making herself at home. “What? I’m just saying what we are all thinking.”
A knock on the door killed our conversation.
“There you are, son .” Vincent Langley said the word as if it were foreign to him. “Ah, and Ms. Contreras, you didn’t do too bad up there.” His smile widened, the edges sharp and predatorial. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised that some questions rattled you. It’s a different world when you’re in the spotlight, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think she was rattled at all,” Dalton folded his arms over his chest. “If anything, I’d say she did better than we could have expected given that Emma decided to show up.”
Vincent’s attention shifted Dalton, and the tension between them was palpable. “She’s a reporter, Dalton. Is she just not supposed to do her job because you’re dating Ms. Contreras?”
My eyes were pinging back and forth between the two men, and as much as I wanted to see Dalton tell his father he was a dick, I didn’t want that to come as a result of him defending me. This was something the two of them needed to solve, and I didn’t want to be the catalyst for a fight.
“Thank you for your support, Mr. Langley. I’m sure with more experience, I’ll do even better,” I said, cutting through the heavy silence that had settled over the room. I wasn’t usually great at kissing ass, but I really put the effort in on that one.
Vincent’s face morphed into a smug expression that told me he thought I was full of shit.
“Of course.” He lingered a moment longer, his gaze unwavering, as if waiting for me to slip up and call him out on the backhanded compliments.
When all I did was keep the fake smile that hurt the corners of my mouth, he gave a curt nod and strode out of my office.
The second he was out of earshot, Gracie let out a low whistle, shaking her head. “Your dad’s got the charm of a rattlesnake.” Dalton forced a smile, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. I shot her a glare, warning her from saying anything else. Her tone softened and she stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Dalty boy, if anyone can commiserate with having daddy issues, it’s me,” she said, patting him like he was a dog.
I gave her an appreciative smile, because I knew how much she hated talking about her relationship with her father.
“Anyway,” she looped her bag around her shoulder, awkwardly walking towards the door. “I have work to do, and since Ariella won’t let me date any of her players, there’s really nothing else keeping me here, so adiós .”
Dalton released a shaky breath when she left, closing the door behind her. His eyes were fixed on the floor, clouded with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite read. He seemed lost in thought, wrestling with something he couldn’t, or maybe didn’t want to, put into words. I rested a hand on his arm, hoping to offer some sort of comfort, but he just gave a sad, hollow laugh before plopping down in my chair. He cradled his head in his hands.
“You know, he’s only been in my life a few years, and I just assumed that maybe he didn’t know how to have a son after so many years apart. Ya know? That it would take time. That if I kept trying…”
The broken hope in his voice killed me.
I slipped into his lap, wrapping my arms around him. He tensed in surprise, as if he’d been so lost in thought he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone, but then his strong arms encircled me. Latching on as if I were a lifeline, I swore he placed a kiss on the top of my head before resting his chin there. We sat there in a comfortable silence, nothing but the steady thump of his heart against my cheek.
I was bad at addressing my own emotions…I had no clue how to go about helping Dalton with his. But I wanted to try. I desperately wanted to be there for him, so I shoved away all of the panic that came with caring for him and what opening those doors would mean and was just…present.
“I think he’s just worried about the season. I’ve just got to prove to him that I can date someone and still focus on the game.” His voice was rough.
I tightened my grip when I heard how he tried to rationalize his father’s treatment. He wasn’t just trying to earn approval—he was trying to earn his father’s love.
My heart hurt for him. While my family might not always understand or agree with my choices, their love was never conditional.
I’d never had to prove my worth to be a part of their lives.
“Dalton,” I said softly, my voice catching, unsure how much I could even say. This wasn’t my place. What right did I have to interfere with that relationship? We’d have to part ways eventually, and Vincent Langley would still be his father long after I was gone.
My gut clenched at that—everything about it felt sour and wrong. Tendrils of doubt about whether I truly needed to be alone to reach my dream seeped in, but Dalton’s voice interrupted before I could fall down my own mental rabbit hole.
“Yeah, Sunshine?”
I shifted in his lap so I could look him in the eyes. “You’re an incredible athlete. One of the best I’ve ever worked with. You’re disciplined, talented, and this team? They’re lucky to have you as their captain. You’ll crush it this season, and your dad would be a fool not to see that.”
His gaze softened, his fingers tracing a soothing line along my back, making their way to cup my face. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met, and I would very much like to kiss you now.”
I forgot how to breathe. How to function.
My heart threatened to jump out of my chest. It wasn’t like we hadn’t kissed before, but something about agreeing to this one felt different. Like I was opening up a door to something new, something not as fake as I was still pretending to believe. I couldn’t get my words to work. All I could give him was a nod.
It was enough.
Dalton’s sharp inhale was his only reaction before pulling me in and closing the distance between our mouths. It was like liquid fire flowed through my veins. I moaned against him, his tongue greeting mine with hunger, and I tilted my head back to give him more access, putty in his hands, clinging onto him as if he were my lifeline.
Nothing else mattered.
Everything slipped away the moment Dalton’s lips moved against mine.
I felt his kiss everywhere, like it had a direct line between my thighs. His mouth was perfection, the softness of his lips contrasting with the roughness of his jaw. I wrapped my arms around his neck, digging my fingers into his hair.
“Sunshine,” he moaned as I straddled him, his hands finding my ass while his teeth pulled on my bottom lip. I couldn’t help myself and ground down onto him, moaning at the friction against my clit. He was so fucking hard that it short-circuited everything in my brain.
“Fuck,” he gasped, head tipping backward as I circled my hips. “Having fun?”
I kissed down his jawline, nipping at the sensitive skin near his ear. I needed more of him, driven to show him he was wanted, and to wipe away the doubt and rejection.
“You have no idea, Thatcher,” I whispered, pulling his lobe in my mouth and biting down, timing it with the apex of my thighs grinding down on his cock. His fingers dug into my flesh, breathing, picking up in pace. I wouldn’t be surprised if ten fingertip-shaped bruises were left from his grip. And fuck me if that wasn’t hot to witness a man falling apart from below you, sensing his need to touch you.
As if he read my thoughts, he slipped his hands under my shirt, trailing his fingertips from my back to just beneath my ribs, teasing the edge of my bra. Our tongues clashed as the kiss deepened. I couldn’t stop moving on top of him, the need to feel more of him aggressively taking over my mind. My fingers found the edge of his shirt, bunching up the fabric as I pulled it over his head, needing to run my hands over the corded muscles of his arms, chest, and back.
He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes blazing with desire.
“Ari, can I touch you?” The low growl rumbled through his chest like he was barely holding himself together.
Holy shit.
“Yes.”
The word escaped almost involuntarily from my kiss-swollen lips, sounding like a plea.
He didn’t hesitate, hands moving under my shirt and bra to cover my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples, sending a thrill down my spine.
“Fuck, they’re perfect,” he murmured against my neck. “You’re perfect.”
Goosebumps erupted where his mouth traced down my throat, each graze making it harder to remember where we were or that anything else existed outside of this moment.
“Dalton, I need…” I didn’t know what I needed or wanted. Hell, I didn’t know what I was doing.
His lips found my temple. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, standing with me in his arms. My ass met the hard surface of my desk. “Let me make you feel good, Sunshine.” Kisses peppered my clavicle before he dropped to his knees in front of me .
Those thick fingers were surprisingly agile, and he flicked the button of my pants open.
“Lift,” he demanded, pulling at the pantlegs the second there was some space between the wooden desk and my body. Cool air hit my exposed skin, and his green eyes flicked up at me. “You always go around wearing no underwear?”
My cheeks heated under his stare. I’d been so caught up in the moment it didn’t dawn on me ’til right then how he was staring at all of me.
I licked my lips. “I didn’t want underwear lines to show up in pictures.”
He blinked a few times, the wheels turning in his head. “I never see lines in your shorts either…”
A man was kneeling before my bare pussy, but what was making me embarrassed was the fact that he’d just caught on to the fact that I almost never wore underwear.
“Do you have a problem with that?” I challenged, lifting a brow.
“Yeah, I do. I don’t like thinking about all the missed opportunities I had to slide my hand under your shorts and fuck you with my fingers.”
There weren’t a lot of things that left me speechless, but Dalton’s mouth was one of them. I swallowed, trying to gather enough saliva to respond. “What makes you think I would have let you?”
All he did was smirk, like he knew full well what would have happened if he tried. He placed a kiss on the inner crook of my knee. “Tell me, Ari, does this pussy get wet when you see me working out?” Another kiss. “How does it feel to want to fuck your hockey player? ”
I squealed when, without warning, he yanked me forward on the desk, stopping when my pussy was right at the edge. I must have manifested this moment because he shoved my legs apart with his broad shoulders, warm breath brushing against my core, and it was like he’d walked straight out of my nightly fantasies.
My eyelids fluttered close, anticipation building. The waiting alone was liable to cause me to come.
But nothing happened.
I look down to find him staring up at me, a cocky smirk on his gorgeous face.
“I thought you were in charge when we were in your gym, Coach.”
“Huh?” I furrowed my brow, the lust making it hard to think straight.
“If you want me to eat your pussy, you have to ask for it.” I froze, heat flushing my body at his words. He trailed the tip of his nose up my inner thigh, inhaling. “God, you smell so fucking good. You drive me crazy. Look at what you do to me.” His fingertips dug into my chin, directing my attention to where his pants tented at the crotch.
Gone. Whatever reservations I had left were out the damn window. I only had so much willpower, and seeing him so turned on was my breaking point.
“Pull it out.” My voice was firm, and I swore he shivered at the command.
“Yes, Coach.”
Without breaking eye contact, he unzipped his pants, tugging his cock free. A low groan fell from his lips as he gave it a long, languid pull. Precum glistened at the tip, and I couldn’t help but squirm, seeking some sort of relief. My body was crying out for release.
“You’re making a mess. Want me to clean it up?” he asked, continuing to pump his hand around his length. Something inside me snapped, and my hands were in his hair, pressing his face between my thighs. His chuckle reached my ears right as he flattened his tongue, running it up the length of my slit like he was licking a damn popsicle.
My eyes began to flutter close, the pleasure too much to keep them open. But they popped back open when he stopped.
“Eyes on me. How else will you know if I’m doing a good job?” He smirked, mouth glistening.
“Show me what you’ve got then, Thatcher,” I challenged, barely holding onto my sanity.
Cocky ass, didn’t break eye contact as he swirled his tongue over my clit. “Mmm. Your pussy is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” The vibration of his moan against me had me tightening my hold on his hair. Stroke after torturous stroke, he held my gaze, until I was grinding against his face.
Thank god athletes had good lung capacity because I didn’t give a fuck at that moment if he was breathing.
“Dalton, please…” I didn’t know what I was asking for, but he seemed to.
I let out a loud cry that turned into a moan as his palm landed on the side of my bare ass cheek. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered that we were in my office, and someone could walk into the gym at any time, but none of that was enough to keep me quiet .
My eyes flared as he grinned against my pussy, massaging my stinging cheek.
“Get your hand back on your cock, Thatcher. I want to see you come.”
Apparently, he liked being bossed around because he latched on to my clit, sucking hard right as he shoved his fingers deep inside me. My heart seized in my chest at the sight of him fucking his hand, matching the pace of his fingers thrusting inside me. “Fuck, you’re a good boy.” The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them.
Those startling green eyes flared at the compliment, and he literally growled against my core, sending white sparks of pleasure down my spine.
I was seconds away from an orgasm. He knew it, too.
That wicked mouth applied the perfect amount of pressure to my clit, and then he added a third finger.
I broke—rocked by the most intense orgasm of my life, my legs quaking so hard I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to get up. I was in such a daze I didn’t even realize he was standing until he moaned my name, and ropes of white cum landing on my pelvis. A second wave of pleasure hit me as I watched it drip down between my legs in one of the most erotic sights I’d ever seen. Part of me wanted to ask him to shove it inside, but whatever bit of restraint I still had prevented me from forming the words.
Apparently, that restraint didn’t apply to me scooping some up and licking it off my fingers.
His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen, and his face shone with the evidence of my orgasm. “My dirty fucking girl. Next time, I’ll come in your mouth so you don’t miss a drop,” he said, swiping his fingers through our combined release and holding it to my lips.
Who the fuck was I?
When had I decided my favorite new thing to do was suck his fingers clean of cum?
He pressed gentle kisses up across my jaw and down my neck, then back up until he captured my lips, cradling my face and tilting it up.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked with a laugh, sliding off the desk. “You’re the one who gave both of us orgasms.”
“For listening…”
Oh.
He looked away, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “For reminding me that there are people in my life who are proud of me…are there for me.” The smile he shot me was sheepish, the bold man from a moment ago replaced by one who was more tender—vulnerable.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him close and trying to ignore the fact that we were having a tender moment while I was still naked from the waist down.
“Always, Thatcher. I am always here for you.”
For the first time, making that promise wasn’t scary at all.