Chapter 30 #2
I take a breath and soften my voice. “So what if you aren’t the warm, cuddly mascot.
They have Otto for that. You can keep calling yourself the big bad wolf if it helps you sleep at night, but I don’t believe it.
Your players don’t believe it either. And yes, Austin is a good guy who deserves to be happy.
But here is the part you keep forgetting, Coach.
You are also a good guy. Yes, you have flaws.
We all do. We can grab a notebook and write them all down if you want.
You’re stubborn. You’re a hardass. You hold people to almost impossible standards.
You don’t have favourites, which might be a warning sign for serial killers but I haven’t looked into it.
You are all these things. And also a good guy. And you deserve to be happy too.”
Something breaks in his expression.
In one swift motion, Arthur reaches out and pulls me into his lap.
He holds me against his chest, arms firm and protective, and I feel his heartbeat beneath the layers of fabric.
My arms slide around his neck and our foreheads come together.
We don’t speak. We don’t move. We just sit there, breathing each other in, letting the moment settle.
“I do not deserve you,” he murmurs.
I start to protest, but he cuts me off. “I know I don’t. And right now, I don’t care. I want you too damn much. So I guess we can add selfish to my list of flaws.”
He buries his face against my neck, inhaling deeply.
“At this rate,” I say softly, “we’re going to need a bigger notebook.”
I feel his smile curve against my skin.
“Done.” He lifts his head just enough to look at me. “Now, do you still want to switch rooms?”
“No.” I let my gaze wander deliberately around the massive suite. The soft lighting. The floor to ceiling windows. “My room is perfect. If anything, your room is too big.”
He arches a brow.
“I am absolutely adding high maintenance to the list.” I continue.
“High maintenance?” He tries to glare, but the effort is half hearted. There is laughter dancing in his eyes.
“Uh, yeah. Newsflash. You’re kind of bougie.”
“What the fuck is bougie?”
I grin. “It’s fine. You’re just a bit of a snob who has grown very accustomed to your life of luxury.”
His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer against him. “That is rich,” he murmurs. “Coming from the woman who looks like she just stepped off a sailboat. What’s the problem, Boss? Did the yacht club run out of caviar?”
I laugh and squirm, but he does not let me go. “I’ve never eaten caviar.”
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s overrated. It has nothing on your grilled cheese.”
“Well,” I say lightly, tilting my head, “it is hard to beat buttery bread and melted brie.”
“Mmm.”
The sound is low. Appreciative. It lands right in my stomach.
It hits me then that he probably hasn’t eaten in hours. The game. The adrenaline. The emotional wreckage. “You must be starving,” I say softly. “I can order something if you know what you want.”
He doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, his gaze drops to my mouth. Then lower. Slow. Intent. One of his hands traces lazy circles on my back while the other slides beneath the hem of my sweater, warm fingers skimming the bare skin of my stomach.
A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face.
“I know exactly what I want.”
He grips my sweater and I lift my arms, letting him rid me of the blue and white cotton.
My bra is next, the dainty clasp being no match for the determined mountain of a man.
He cups my bare breasts in his strong hands and I shiver as a callous brushes my nipple.
Arthur immediately pulls me closer on his lap, drawing said nipple into his mouth, like he needs to apologize for the roughness of his hands.
But no apology is needed. I love everything about his body and am suddenly desperate to feel as much of it against me as possible. I only manage to undo the top two buttons of his dress shirt before losing patience and pulling at the hem.
“Need something?” He chuckles as I struggle. But he leans forward and raises his arms so I’m able to take off the white linen.
He pulls me back against him, his kiss swallowing the sound I make as his chest hair brushes against my sensitive breasts. The number of times I thought of him like this. Alone at night before I went to sleep. I told myself it would never happen. Convinced myself it couldn’t.
Now I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do without it.
I rock my hips against him, causing him to groan. I love the sounds he makes. Half tortured. Half ecstasy. I want more of them.
I undo his pants, climbing off his lap so I can pull them off. His signature black boxer briefs come with them. He reaches for me, but instead of resuming my position, I drop to my knees in front of him.
“Elliot.” He breathes my name, his hand stroking my cheek before his fingers tangle in my hair.
I lower my mouth over the tip of his cock, living for the string of curses it causes him to let go.
I let my jaw go slack as I take him deeper, the taste of his skin flooding my senses.
I go slowly, taking my time. His hand tightens in my hair, but he’s not controlling my movements. He’s letting me lead.
“God, Elliot. It’s too good,” he mutters, his eyes dazed as he watches me. “I want you to ride me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
My pussy throbs in response to his words.
I love when he tells me what he wants. With one more lick from base to tip I push myself to stand.
My legs are wobbly as I shove my shorts and panties down.
He reaches for me again and this time I go to him.
Happily. Eagerly. I settle on to his lap as he pulls me against him.
“Your mouth,” he murmurs against my lips. “God, the things you make me feel.”
I kiss him, hard and fast, moving my hips against him, craving the kind of friction only he can give me. I’ve never felt so wanted. Not tolerated. Not convenient. Wanted.
Sometimes it scares me. How easily he dismantles my barriers. How quickly my future starts rearranging itself around the idea of us.
“The condoms are in my bag,” he pants as I grind against him.
“Do…do we need one?”
He goes completely still, and I panic, tripping over my own words. “It’s just—I have an IUD. And I’ve been tested. There’s been no one but you.” And I don’t want anyone else. Ever.
He swallows. “I’ve been tested too. I’m clear. Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’m sure.”
He studies my face for what feels like an eternity looking at me like I’m something precious, not something temporary. Like he’s already decided I belong here. Finally, he pulls me in for a blistering, almost punishing kiss. “Tell me you’re ready for me, baby.”
I’m more than ready. So wet, I’m almost dripping against him. I answer by lining us together and sinking myself down onto him until I’m fully seated.
“God, Elliot. You feel fucking incredible.”
I hold onto his shoulders as I move, lifting up and sliding down onto him over and over again. It’s almost more than I can take and yet somehow I want more. More. More.
I gasp and moan as I ride him faster, harder. Everything else goes away. There is only him and me. Only us. He palms my ass, setting the rhythm of my ride.
“You love it, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I pant, climbing too high, too fast. “I love it.”
His chest rises and falls beneath me, as he stares up at me with hooded eyes. “You want me to come inside your perfect pussy?”
“Yes,” is all I manage to cry as my climax slams into me and I collapse, falling, tumbling, onto him.
“Oh fuck, Elliot, Elliot…” Arthur says my name again and again before spilling himself inside me. He holds me tighter than ever before against him. Like he’s terrified I’m going to vanish into thin air.
“I changed my mind,” I mumble against his chest as he strokes my hair. “I like your room just fine.”
He cradles my head against him as he presses a kiss to my hair. “It’s yours, if you want it. Everything I have is yours, Elliot.”