Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
BILLIE
Paxton smiles as one of his teammates chats about a new offensive plan they’ve put together for the game tomorrow night.
I try to stay engaged, to follow along enough to respond if they try to draw me into the conversation, but I can’t quiet manage.
My gaze drifts over the room as I slowly sip from the glass of wine I’ve been nursing for the last half hour since the tables were cleared and the desserts were cut into.
There’s more than a couple Omegas here, holding hands with various players.
So many of them have packed up since I moved out here five weeks ago, it’s a bit jarring.
I’ve not managed to learn a single one of their names.
Nerves cut through my stomach.
Paxton grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together.
I try and settle myself so I don’t ruin his afternoon with my insecurities that have been haunting me since I was a kid.
His thumb runs over my knuckles. I take another drink of the wine, bigger this time.
My eyes catch on Carys across the room. She stands with Marilyn, talking quietly, a small smile on her lips.
Her dress is a beautiful plaid, the bodice slim and the skirt flaring away from her hips.
That flash of interest, of desire, rushes down my spine.
I quickly look away before Paxton notices and my secret spills out in an ugly mess of words that won’t land right.
How do I explain to him that I love him and yet still crave her, too?
I’m not an Omega. Betas aren’t wired to need so many people the way Omegas are.
The idea of hurting him by admitting maybe I need more than just his devotion and steady love sickens me.
So instead, I shove away the feelings, the slips in my control, sipping the last bits of my wine and doing my best to focus on the conversation in front of me as a third player joins.
I don’t hear a word they say, though, so lost in my own head.
Paxton frowns, glancing down at me. He says something to the guys.
They smile and nod, and then he’s guiding me out of the large room, taking my wine glass and leaving it on one of the entry tables.
He pulls me into the coat closet and closes the door, locking it behind him.
“Bee,” he says, his voice low.
My stomach twists. “What?”
“You don’t need to be nervous of all those Omegas,” he says, running his thumb across my cheekbone. Love sweeps across the bond, flooding my chest.
I swallow and shrug. “I know.”
Just one, actually. But that’s not something I’m going to admit here, not when she just spent the night with Rhett and Paxton and I just put in an offer for a house.
He frowns, his cypress scent surrounding us in a fast wave.
“I don’t think you do, Bee. I think you’ve spent the last two hours switching between jealous and nervous.” He steps into me, cradling the nape of my neck to keep me from backing away. “I think you’re worried you won’t be enough.”
“Maybe,” I admit.
He nods, then he kisses me. It’s the most demanding kiss he’s given me in a long time, and I gasp at its intensity.
“You are enough,” he says against my lips. His possessiveness rushes through the bond, making my hands tremble as his own eases the hem of my dress higher and then slips under it to trace the edge of my panties.
“Paxton,” I gasp. “Your entire team is out there.”
He’s never been so bold. Neither have I.
“They are,” he agrees. He palms my hip, turning me toward one of the empty racks, urging me forward until my hands are splayed on the wall, my ass pressed hard into his hips. “So you should probably be quieter, or they’re going to figure out where we’ve gone and why.”
His words shoot right through me, a net of sensation that has me shaking.
He hums, feeling it through the bond. He keeps his palm flat against my back as he undoes the belt and zipper of his slacks one-handed, not missing a beat.
He leans over me, pressing a kiss to my neck.
My breath hitches as he pulls my dress up to my hips, flipping the hem to keep it from falling back down.
He pulls my panties to the side, and then his cock is there, pressing into me in one smooth thrust that has my toes curling in my low heels.
I gasp, and he sets his teeth into my neck, not quite breaking the skin.
He sets a deep, slow pace, every single stroke sending electric shocks to my fingertips.
“You don’t need to be jealous, Bee,” he whispers, his breathing not impacted at all. “I know you can feel me. My cock and my desire for you, my need to have you coming around me. I’ll fuck you here until you trust it to be the truth, Bee. Don’t tempt me.”
The words with the double dose of sensation are too much. My arms collapse, and I press my cheek to the wall, biting my lip to keep from moaning as my orgasm starts to crest.
“Pax,” I gasp.
He grins into my neck and just increases his pace, his hand sliding around my hip to caress my clit in those tight, close circles that have me a boneless mess within seconds.
I clench around him as the orgasm crashes through me, stealing my vision and my breath in equal measures.
Paxton presses his face into the crook of my shoulder as he moans, his body shuddering above me.
I can’t help a shocked laugh as my mind slowly remembers how to form thought.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “We just… I mean, we’ve never done anything like that.”
Paxton chuckles, kisses my shoulder, and then pulls out, quickly fixing my panties and dropping my dress’s hem back down before readjusting his own clothing. I somehow remember how to stand on unsteady legs.
“Better?” he asks, pulling my lips to his.
“Better.”
RHETT
It’s a goddamn miracle I don’t completely lose my shit over the four hours the team’s Thanksgiving dinner lasts.
It had started rocky enough with Timber freaking Carys out for some reason.
I’d had to let her dad comfort her while all I wanted was to pull her into my chest until her trembling faded.
Thank fuck Timber has no sense of smell, or our entire secrecy plan would have been blown apart only a week into it.
Then I’d forgotten to put on a cologne to cover her scent.
No one recognized it aside from Paxton, and he’d only raised a single eyebrow.
Ashton simply chirped me about hooking up with someone literally right before a big team event, though his eyes flashed with curiosity.
Now, nearly three hours into it, my body itches to cross this room and pull her into my arms, feel the crush of her hair under my lips and the silkiness of her skin under my touch.
That dress hugs her like a damn dream, and I both love it and hate it because of that.
I throw back the last of my second whiskey, dropping it back onto the table where I perch, my ankles crossed as Ashton and Ares talk about some new defensive drills we started this last week during morning skates.
I only manage to halfway listen, my eyes cutting to where Paxton and Billie ease their way back into the groups, her hair a bit frazzled and his cheeks still a bit too red under his beard.
Even as I watch, he leans over and kisses her temple, smiling as she shivers.
The neckline of her dress shifts, baring a corner of a healed bonding bite. Jealousy seethes low in my stomach.
I’ve never once been jealous of Paxton. We’re too dissimilar for it, mostly.
He’s always been calm and collected, keeping his head down as he makes steady progress toward what he wants.
I’m the loud one, the one that runs headfirst into whatever has caught my attention with no regard for the fall.
Even in hockey, there isn’t much room for jealousy.
He has always been a forward. I’ve always been a defenseman.
It’s left us mostly as parallel lines, working toward the same goals without getting in each other’s way.
But right now? I want to rip his head off. What I wouldn’t give to be able to sneak off with Carys here and give her an orgasm or two to ease the tension in her shoulders. My scent pulses out from me, and I swallow. Ashton lifts an eyebrow, causing Ares to pause.
“You good?” Ashton asks.
He knows damn well I’m not, though not entirely why. At least Ares can’t tell the difference in the small changes to scents that would give me away right now.
“Fine,” I mutter. Then I add a bit to the original conversation to keep their attention off of me. “Yeah, I’m not ever going to turn down the chance to work on some of the specialty setups. The more overtime we get into, the better we are to have run the trios.”
Ares nods. “I’ll definitely make a note that it’s working. We might need to drop it from the schedule leading into Christmas since we have so many back-to-backs. But we’ll certainly make sure we’re running it in the new year.”
We have three back-to-backs between now and Christmas.
They’re the hardest games in any schedule.
It doesn’t matter who the teams are. You’re tired and sore that second game.
You can eat all the protein heavy foods and slam as much pre-workout as you want.
But your legs just don’t work as well that second night.
It doesn’t help they’re typically wedged in a road trip that’s already grueling.
I’m only going to be home for fourteen of the nights until Christmas. Fourteen nights to have Carys curled up in my bed, pressed against me. Not that I’m counting or anything.
My phone buzzing is a welcome distraction. My dick twitches as I see Carys’s name.
Tonight? It needs to be my place.
Of course. I’ll bring a cheesecake.
You’re perfect.
I know.
I drop my phone back into my pocket.
“I’ll see you both tomorrow for the flight to Vegas,” Ares says. “Carys and I are going to go celebrate our annual tradition of watching the dog show before we get spoiled about who the winners were.”
He waves to us both and then quietly collects his daughter. Her eyes catch on mine, flaring with heat before she manages to look somewhere else.
I send her another text.
My money’s on the German shepherd.