CHAPTER 25 BENNETT
BENNETT
“Good game,” I say to Asher, who is passing me, fresh from the shower, looking like he wants to wring everyone’s neck that talks to him, despite being the guy who hit the game-winning single.
He grumbles something under his breath, but I can’t quite make out what it is and don’t even bother trying.
We leave tomorrow first thing in the morning and have a game tomorrow night.
We don’t typically leave the morning of a game, but the team voted on it since the next city is only an hour-and-a-half flight and families wanted to spend more time with each other.
Given that we’re coming up on playoffs and our tanks are pretty much drained right now, management will do just about anything to keep us happy.
But the rule is we’re not to go out, and if there is any talk of going out, you will have to deal with management in the morning.
“Fuck,” Nolan says, dropping down next to me in nothing but a thong.
He’s been on a hot streak lately, and he swears it’s because he’s been wearing a thong for the past ten days.
Whatever makes him fucking happy, I guess.
“I really wanted to go out tonight.” He leans in and whispers, “Want to chance our luck?”
“Absolutely not,” I say, thinking about how if I had it my way, I’d be going back to Bower’s apartment and cuddling into her.
But one small step at a time, which I think has been working, by the way, because fuck, I can still taste her on my tongue and she tastes fucking incredible.
So damn good that I can feel an addiction take root and I’m looking for my next hit.
“I knew you were going to say that. You’re too fucking pure.”
“Also, going out would let the team down, and is that the kind of guy you want to be, Nolan?”
He glances down at his barely covered dick and says, “None of this is the guy I want to be, but here I am.” He gestures toward his crotch, and I shy away from looking because one accidental spotting of him in that thing is enough.
“Are you going to go take a shower?” I ask, because fuck, I don’t want to see it anymore.
“Is that what you want?”
“I just want you away from me, showered, and tucked into your bed so you can wake up at a decent hour and make the plane for our game tomorrow.”
“Seems like a lot of work. Want to do it for me?”
“I’m good.” As I’m freshly showered, I slip my shirt over my head, so ready to get back to my place.
“Are you off to go see her?” Nolan asks, picking up a bat from my locker and resting it right on his dick as he pretends to stroke it.
I snatch the bat from him. “Don’t fucking do that with my shit.” I set it down and then add, “And no. Getting some sleep and letting the heart grow fonder with my absence.”
“Really? Hell, if I were you, I’d try to at least get a handy before I went off for ten days.”
“Yeah, well, you have no respect for yourself.”
He laughs. “Dude, it has nothing to do with respect and everything to do with getting off with some hot chick. If you’re going to respect anything, respect the dick. When was the last time you actually came all over your goddamn stomach that didn’t include your hand and some lotion?”
Well, if he takes out that scenario…
“That’s what I thought. A long-ass time, right? If I were you, I’d march my ass right to her apartment and look for some assistance in the matter.”
“It’s not like that,” I say. “This is about her and winning her over. I’ll get my dick rubbed off at some point, but not now. I’m too fucking close and I don’t want to scare her away.”
“Are you sure? What happened that makes you think you’re close?”
“Nothing you need to know about,” I say.
“Holy fuck.” He stands and presses his hand to my chest. “You ate her out, didn’t you?”
“Leave me alone.”
“You fucking did.” A huge smile crosses his face. “You fucking ate her out and you liked it and she liked it. Didn’t she?”
“We’re done.”
I pocket my phone and my wallet and turn to head out of the locker room when Nolan squats into sumo position, just his thong-covered ass out, and starts twerking while bouncing forward and singsonging, “He fucking ate her out. He fucking ate her out.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mumble before moving away from him and his celebration that some of the other guys take part in. If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that Nolan Hart is easily the life of the party.
And that I fucking ate her out!
My driver drove me today because I was packed and ready to board the plane after the game, only to find out that we weren’t leaving until the morning, which means, my driver is driving me home now.
I kind of fucking like it, though. Not having to mess around with traffic after a game. I can just decompress in the back while he deals with weaving in and out.
Also, it gives me a chance to catch the “daddies” up.
Bennett: Things have progressed with Bower. Book club is taking flight, not as popular as your social media launch, Graydon, but we’ll get there. Gretchen is getting Bower involved in the book club and I might have fucking eaten her out.
I lean my head back, just as there is a text, buzzing my phone in my hand.
OC: Who did you eat out? Gretchen? Did she taste like burned popcorn? Because that’s the feeling I get from her.
Graydon: Why the fuck would he eat Gretchen out? Clearly he’s talking about Bower.
OC: From his sentence structure, one could assume the subject (Gretchen) is the one who he’s performing the tongue action on, the eating out.
Graydon: But the last proper noun in the sentence is Bower.
OC: She’s the secondary, Gretchen is the subject, therefore making the reader lean into thinking she’s the one Bennett stuck his tongue in.
Graydon: You’ve lost it.
OC: You need to get educated.
Bennett: For fuck’s sake, who cares! I ate Bower out. That’s what should matter right now.
OC: It would if you structured your sentence properly. I know text messaging allows for a lack of punctuation, but don’t *assume* I know what you’re talking about, because you will just make an ass out of you and me.
Graydon: Want to move to a separate chat without him in it?
Bennett: Yes.
OC: Wait, please no, don’t leave me! I’m sorry.
I’m lonely and depressed and you both have lives and I have nothing, absolutely nothing, which makes me so pathetic and lonely, and the only thing keeping me going are the typing challenges I’ve been doing online, perfecting my words per minute to sixty-five.
Shooting for sixty-nine, if you get my drift.
Graydon: I don’t know what to say to that.
Bennett: Sixty-five, respectable.
OC: Thank you. It’s all about relaxing in the wrist.
Graydon: And we’re leaving.
Pumping with adrenaline from the win earlier today, and my game win, I enter my apartment and kick off my shoes, dropping my bag off at the front door because I know that I’ll just pick it up in the morning.
I brushed my teeth at the stadium, so I pull my shirt over my head and walk into the bedroom just as I come to a complete stop, my life nearly leaving my lungs when I see a lump in my bed.
“Jesus,” I say when I notice that it’s Bower.
She lifts up, looking so adorable in one my shirts and her hair tied up on the top of her head.
“I should have texted you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” I say, the shock of finding her slowly dissipating as excitement takes its place. “Everything okay?”
She nods and looks away, almost as if she’s embarrassed.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispers and then glances over her shoulder at me. “But I couldn’t stop myself from coming over.” She swallows. “You’re leaving for ten days and I just thought, well, that maybe we could cuddle before you leave, nothing else.”
“As if you have to ask,” I say, wanting to pin her to my bed and thank her for coming here tonight. I wasn’t going to push my luck, but thank God she didn’t mind.
I get rid of my socks and pants and then I slip under the covers with her, lying on my back and reaching my arm out for her. She curls right into my side and rests her head on the crook of my shoulder and places her hand on my chest.
“Thank you,” she says on a sigh, as if she’s the most content she’s ever been.
“Anytime you want this, you tell me,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
“Don’t say that. I’d be here every night.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“You know it is,” she says, uncertainty in her voice. “You know damn well I shouldn’t be here, Bennett.”
“I don’t, actually, because last time I checked, you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions.”
“If she finds out, she won’t speak to me again.”
“That’s not going to happen. She loves you.”
“She trusts me and she shouldn’t,” she says as her hand slides down my chest and straight to my stomach as her finger swirls around my individual abs, causing my stomach to concave from her touch.
“Why?” I ask as she swirls the tip of her finger one by one farther south as she goes until she reaches my waistband, and that’s when I go from semi-hard to fully erect.
“Because, she has no idea how much I want you and how much I’m willing to cross the line.”
And then her hand slips past the waistband of my boxer briefs and the palm of her hand flattens over my length.
Mother of fucking God.
The amount of times I’ve dreamed of this, thought of her touching me, wanting to be with me, fucking maddening. And now that it’s finally happening, it’s hard to contain the euphoria flowing through me.
“God, you’re huge,” she says as she presses a kiss to my chest and lightly caresses my erection that’s growing harder and harder by the second. “And I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop.” Her mouth moves down my pec as her body slides along my side until her lips are caressing my abs.
“Fuck,” I whisper, her mouth so goddamn close.
Her tongue peeks out, swiping along each divot, swirling and kissing, driving me fucking nuts as her fingertips lightly graze my cock, up and down…up and down…up and…