Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
VALENTINA
Iknew right away when I saw that cheerleader invading my boyfriend’s personal space that she’s the one with the nice ass. Banon must have been cruising to hook up with her before Thanksgiving.
A part of me deflates, seeing her up close.
She’s really fucking hot. Insanely hot. Her hair was up in a ponytail but still a million times more put-together than mine, with flouncy little curls.
She had a long, shapely neck, normal-sized tits, and a body with absolutely perfect proportions, like a cover model.
She’s definitely Banon’s type, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, golden-brown skin and…
I blink as we walk to the car. Hmm. I guess that could also describe me, if I were taller and had skinnier thighs.
“Don’t think anything about it,” Banon says, breaking the silence as we approach his car in the lot. “I can see the gears turning in your head.”
“Think what about what?” I ask innocently.
“About Megan. I never hooked up with her.”
I raise both my hands. “I didn’t say you did.”
“I know. But I just want to be clear. I really haven’t been with anyone but you since last year.”
It’s sweet that he’s trying to reassure me, and my ego does appreciate it after seeing what that girl had on display.
The moment we’re both in the car, Banon shuts the door and grabs my hand in his.
“I want you to really understand,” he says in a stern tone, staring me dead in the eyes. “None of those girls matter to me, Valentina.”
I still love when he says my name like that. I stroke his big hand.
“I think I get it.” He’s worried about the compromising position I found him in, worried that I doubt how he feels. “And thank you. Now can we get some dinner and then go back to your place?”
“Of course. Rich is gone for the whole weekend, so we have the apartment to ourselves.”
It’s been getting trickier and trickier, coming up with excuses to tell my friends for why I’ve been gone all the time—and why Banon is always the one picking me up.
One day, the story was that we were going to help my parents hang up Christmas lights.
Another was picking out a Christmas tree.
Then seeing Banon’s game, which was technically true, but did earn some questions about why I now suddenly cared about seeing him play when I’d talked a lot of shit about him before.
But it’ll be Christmas break soon, and then it will get even trickier to keep it a secret from Marissa and my dad.
Banon will keep working and living at his apartment, but I’ll be staying at their place until school starts up again in January.
It’s going to look super suspicious if Banon and I are together all the time after spending the last few years barely acknowledging each other.
I sure hate that we have to keep this a secret. I said it would all be fine, that I could handle it if it meant we got to have the relationship that we want—but it’s going to be a long break without getting to hook up two or three times a week.
The first time Banon comes to visit for the evening, we go on a long “walk” together to enjoy the fresh snow.
Marissa makes sure we’re both wearing scarves before sending us off.
The first thing we do is scurry to the park, then Banon grabs my hand and leads me off-road.
He’s not wearing boots—given the hooves and fur and all—and it’s fairly deep.
“Don’t you get cold?” I ask, gesturing to his feet.
“Me? No.” He snorts. “I don’t have delicate little toesies like some people.” He tickles me, making me squeal and giggle. Then his arms loop around my back, bringing me in close to his jacket.
“But you get cold up here,” I say, fluffing the scarf around his neck. Marissa loves giving us scarves, even though we only ever wear them at her house.
“Well, that’s where my heart is.” He traps my hand against his chest, then brings it down to press it to the right side. “Gotta protect that so I can love you with it.”
Sometimes Banon is a total cheeseball like this, and I adore it beyond reason. I didn’t know he had this side—a side that wasn’t all bluster and arrogance—and it grows on me more every day.
When we part, he tips my chin up, leans down, and brushes his lips over mine.
“I was thinking about fucking you right out here in the woods,” he says.
“In a park?!”
“It’s after dark, we’re off the beaten path…” His hand coasts down over my ass and squeezes it. “You know how to be quiet.”
“But it’s a public place,” I hiss.
“Even more exciting.” He releases me and grabs my hand. “Come on, let’s go a little farther.”
We walk a bit longer through the snow, and I forgot how huge this park was. We came here when I was younger sometimes, because there’s workout equipment along the walking path where Banon liked to show off. Never thought we’d be walking through it together, hand in hand.
“Here we go.” Banon stops at the trunk of a tall tree. “Keep your coat on, should be fine.”
“What should be fine?” I ask quizzically, wondering what he has planned for this tree.
“Pants,” he says, and I realize what he’s up to.
He was right, and the bark doesn’t scratch my back with the big coat on. I manage to keep my cries quiet as he fucks me relentlessly against the tree, groaning as I get closer and closer.
“Yes, Valentina. Come apart.” He grunts as I coast right into my orgasm, and the two big hands holding up my ass dig in. “Fuck, you feel so good. I’m going to soak you.”
When we’re finished, I use some wadded-up tissues in my pocket to clean up, then dump them in the trash when we get back to the path.
A few days after that, I tell Dad and Marissa that Banon and I are going to see a movie. This is code for: fucking at his place.
“Oh, which movie?”
I had this prepared. “That new Deshannon film.” I even looked up when it was playing. “At four thirty.”
“Can we come?” Marissa says, hopping off the kitchen stool. “I’ve been wanting to see that.”
Great.
Now Banon and I have to sit on opposite sides of Dad and Marissa during a movie we never intended to see.
I have blue balls, big time. I remembered to bring my sex toys with me, at least, so I can try to imagine Banon’s there with me, that massive bull cock of his sunk deep inside me.
I had to size up my dildo.
It feels like it’s been eons when Christmas Eve finally rolls around. Banon has an excuse to spend the night because we’re all going to drink lots of eggnog and sing songs and watch stupid Christmas movies.
“It’s nice seeing you and Banon getting along better,” Marissa says while we wait for him to show up. “I’m glad you two got past whatever was going on at Thanksgiving.”
Right. That.
“Yeah, we did work through something, I think.” My face must be turning red while I lie to her. I’ve never been a great liar. “Hey, should we check on that casserole? I can smell something burning.”
Marissa scurries back to the kitchen just as the front door opens. When I see Banon, all seven feet of pure muscle that he is, I want to throw myself into his arms. I want to drag him back to my bedroom and have my way with him.
Instead, we give a cursory, loose greeting hug. But while his head is lowered, his arm around me, he murmurs, “My room, tonight. Quiet is the word.”
Oh, I can do that.
“Quiet is the word,” I echo. Then we part, and the parents come out to say hello.
As the sun sets, snow begins to fall outside in big, fat flakes. We all crowd at the window, sipping our eggnog as it covers the front walkway. Then it’s time for our annual viewing of all our favorite Christmas films while the ham cooks.
I want to sit beside Banon on the couch, curl up against him with his arm wrapped around me. Instead, I sit on the far end while he takes the La-Z-Boy. I’ll glance over at him and find him already looking at me, and then one of us winks or grins before we both try to look away again.
Then the food is out, and it’s like Thanksgiving: Volume Two as we dish up potatoes and gravy and crescent rolls. Banon talks about the game he played before Christmas break, and how they won by a big margin. Now his coach is talking about making him captain.
“He caught the most insane throw,” I say proudly. “Like, it should have been physically impossible for him to get that ball, and yet.”
Banon stares at me, his mouth falling open.
Oh, fuck. I did not mean to say that.
“You saw him play?” Marissa asks, surprised. “I didn’t think you went to any of the games, Val.”
“Um.” I have to think fast to come up with a story. “Yeah. I, uh, wanted to interview him. For the school paper.”
Dad raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you’d joined the newspaper, either.”
“Just on a part-time basis. He’s an alumnus, you know, so we’re always interested in what alumni are doing after they graduate school.”
“Working for The Moving Brothers?” Dad asks. “Sounds riveting.”
Marissa frowns and elbows him. “Hey, it’s a good job.”
“Not really newsworthy, though.”
“The fact Banon is still playing is newsworthy,” I argue. “And doing great for his team, too.”
Now both my dad and Marissa are eyeing me with suspicion, while Banon shakes his head on the other side of the table.
“Well, I’m glad you went,” his mother finally says. “And it’s cool you’re on the newspaper now, Val! Exciting stuff.”
Great. They’re going to want to see the article when it comes out, and there won’t be one. Banon sighs, and I wish I’d thought it through just a little more before opening my mouth.
The conversation turns to other things as we stuff our faces. When dinner’s over, us kids take up cleaning duty, and I put the leftovers away while Banon starts scrubbing dishes. Once Marissa and Dad go into the living room to set up the next movie, Banon walks past me and grabs my ass on the way.
I shiver all over just thinking about what comes later.
We sit through one more film, this time one of Marissa’s favorites, an animated movie with haunting music. It’s beautiful and strange, and I’m emotional by the end. When I look over, though, my dad is asleep and Marissa is crying. Banon is watching me, tipping his head.
“That one’s intense, isn’t it?” he asks. “For being animated.”
At last, it’s time for bed. We put cookies and milk on the counter and make sure the fire is out, just like when I was a kid. It’s a stupid tradition, but it brings all of us joy, and then Dad always eats the cookies in the morning before breakfast, much to Marissa’s chagrin.
Then Marissa hands out the packages containing our pajamas—we get a new set every year on Christmas Eve.
This time, mine are black and red, with cute little bows on the collar and waist. Banon’s are gray and loose fitting, with a slogan across the front that reads, “Mess with the bull and you’ll get the horns. ”
The snow has already piled high in front of the windows, which means a morning of digging out the driveway.
But that’s for tomorrow me to deal with.
For tonight, I can enjoy the soft glow of snowflakes falling under the streetlights as we all stand looking outside.
I’m beside Banon by coincidence, and I lightly brush a hand over his thigh to let him know I’m there.
Finally, we turn all the lights off and retreat to our bedrooms. I putter around, trying to read a book for a few minutes before getting impatient with it and tossing it aside.
I know I should wait at least an hour for Dad and Marissa to get ready for bed and fall asleep, but I’m anxious to be with Banon again for the first time since that walk in the park.
After wasting more time scrolling on my phone, it’s finally late enough that I think we’re safe.
I head into the Jack-and-Jill bathroom, where Banon’s light is still on under his door.
I knock quietly, and the low music pauses.
Then the door opens, and there’s my minotaur again, his black horns gleaming in the light, his nostrils flared as he sniffs me, his blue eyes bright and twinkling.
I reach up and run a hand through the buckskin fur along his cheek, leaning into just how soft and warm he is under my fingers.
“Valentina.” His tongue licks my name. “You made it.”
“Of course I did.” I slide into the room, and he closes the door behind me. “Sorry about the newspaper thing. God, that was so stupid.”
He grins a sort of sad grin. “Yeah. It was pretty stupid.”
We both laugh, then cover our mouths, remembering we need to keep our voices down.
“Quiet’s the word,” we both say at once.
Banon’s arm snakes out and wraps around me, bringing me in against his chest. I love just touching him here, running my fingers over the bulges of his pecs, across his broad shoulders and killer delts.
“I’ve been in the gym even more since I couldn’t see you,” he says, one of his muscles flexing under my hand. “Working off all my frustration and hormones.”
I quirk a brow. “Hormones?”
He grabs my hands in his and looks me square in the eye.
“Oh, yeah. Minotaur stuff, you know. My hormones have gone crazy since I started having sex with you. My body is obsessed. Can’t get enough.
” He rubs his hips lightly against mine to show off how he’s already getting thick and hard for me under his soft sweatpants.
“It knows that you’re mine. You’re all mine, now and always. ”
I love how that sounds—being with Banon forever, getting to do this every day and night. What a dream that would be, even if we had to keep it secret.
Though that part does suck.
I try not to think about it as Banon leans down to nuzzle my hair. He holds me like I’m something precious, something fragile and also beloved. His big hand skims down my back, over my butt, which he uses to press our bodies closer together.
“Take off your shirt,” he rumbles. “Right now.”
I do as I’m told, backing away just enough that I can slip my hands under my pajama top.
I’ve got no bra on underneath, so the moment it’s on the floor, Banon’s eyes drop to my chest. He licks his lips as he cups my breasts in his broad palms, lifting and squeezing and running his fingers over my taut nipples.
It’s chilly in here with the snow falling outside, and goosebumps spread across my exposed skin.
“Let’s get you under the blankets,” Banon says, easily sweeping me up into his arms. I squeak and wrap my arms around his neck, and he laughs as he carries me to the bed. “There’s a lot I want to do to you there.”