Chapter Twenty-Six Randall
She’s gone by the time I wake up at nearly eleven in the morning. My body is less sore overall, yet my stomach is clenched, because why would she leave without waking me?
Before I can continue brooding like an abandoned puppy, my phone rings. I lunge for it and am disappointed to find the call is from Aurora Diaz, my agent. We hadn’t spoken since before the Mavericks lost game seven, so I’m not surprised she’s calling.
I send it to voicemail.
Aurora: This is important! Call me back!
Aurora: I can tell you read that text so CALL ME!
The last time she sounded this eager, it was to announce a “puck-it-up” campaign for a vacuum cleaner company. Hard pass.
I told her reach out when something cool came up, like if the Chevy folks want me to show off the newest Corvette Stingray. I freaking love that car.
Aurora missed that memo completely when she tried to convince me to be the spokesperson for a sad used car dealership.
What part of Corvette did she not understand?
At any rate, publicity stunts and sponsorship events can wait. I’ve got a hotshot Shakespeare nerd to track down.
Me: Are you at the theater?
Elise: I had to be here at eight. You looked too peaceful to disturb.
She texted right away, so that’s encouraging. Feeding her yesterday worked for me, so I’m running with it.
Me: Have you eaten today?
Elise: I’m fine. There are eggs and veggies in the fridge if you want to make yourself something.
Me: If I make you an omelet and walk it over, will you eat it?
Elise: You’re like my personal food service. I could get used to that.
Me: Get used to it. I’ll be there soon.
I make quick work of scrambling eggs with tomatoes and spinach. I’m about to put it in a Tupperware when my phone lights up. Aurora again. She’s persistent, but this is another level of tenacity.
Aurora: I’m outside your townhouse open the fuck up.
What the hell. She’s based in Philly, which is where we usually meet.
Me: What are you doing there?
Aurora: Answer and find out!
Well, shit. The phone rings again.
“I’m not in town,” I answer.
“I can tell.”
“Why are you in Columbus?”
“Meetings,” she says.
In my mind’s eye, I can practically see her wave the word away like so many flies.
“I represent a few people the Mavericks are interested in. Great series for you, by the way.”
“If we were so great, we would have won.”
“I said for you. I’m not gonna lie, Randall. Everyone used to think you didn’t have the chops to be first goalie. Not anymore.”
Am I expected to thank her for that backhanded compliment?
“What’s your point?”
“I’m getting calls. A lot of calls.”
“About?”
“About your prospects next year.”
“I’m in the middle of a five-year contract.”
“We passed on the no-trade clause, remember?” she states, and I hear a car start. She must be driving away from my townhouse on her way to bother other people.
“What did the Mavericks say?” I ask past the ball clogging my throat. “About my prospects.”
What I want to ask is: do they already want to get rid of me? Is that how little I matter to this team? Was all that talk about being central to success mere bullshit?
“They aren’t looking to trade you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, they’d probably extend your contract today after how well you came through when Jeremy got injured.”
“Then why the fuck are you giving me a heart attack, Rory?”
“They called me in because they want to make a serious run next year. To build a solid roster, they’re on the market for another top center and at least two more defensemen. Even Sergei Petrov can’t play the whole sixty minutes.”
“So? What does that have to do with me?”
“Read the room, Randall. As much as they want to keep you, you’re first goalie caliber with playoff experience at the price of a second goalie. You’re a golden egg.”
“Let me get this straight. Because I played decently, I’m getting used as bait?”
“You played incredibly,” she states. “The loss was because they relied too much on a few superstars instead of investing in a balanced roster. No one expected the team to get past the first round without Jeremy. You proved them wrong by sailing through the first team and stealing those last three games from Miami.”
“I didn’t steal the one that counted,” I say bitterly.
“You’ll get it next time. Think about this summer as an opportunity. You’re a first goalie, Randall. You could carry a team. I always believed it, but do you? Don’t you want to be the top man on the net for once?”
Is that what I want?
I’ve always taken comfort occupying the seat behind the bench, where I can have a career as a professional athlete while having manageable stress levels. The last few weeks felt like a roller coaster, full of brutal lows and intense highs.
Although I strive to be a dependable teammate, I never saw myself as one to carry a team.
“I like where I am.”
“Do you? Or are you just scared to put in the work.”
“You’re an agent, not a shrink. Stop reading into it beyond the fact that I like where I am,” I say steadily even though I’m tempted to scream at her. “The city is great; the team is solid.”
And the woman I love is in Ohio. Leaving Columbus would mean leaving Elise, and I can’t. I won’t.
“There are great cities all over the fucking league. And no team is forever. Just promise me you’ll meet a few interested managers this summer. We’re obviously not doing anything during the playoffs, but you should get your head straight. It’s time to see yourself as first, Randall.”
I hear the front door before I see Elise. Shit, how long have we been yapping?
“I gotta go,” I mutter before disconnecting Rory.
“Hey,” Elise greets me upon entering the kitchen. “We had a break for lunch, so I thought I’d run home. Worried you got lost.” Elise goes on tiptoe to brush her lips against my jaw.
“You call that a kiss?” I say, pulling her close and devouring her mouth.
When we come up for air, I trap her against the counter. That’s when I notice it.
“Did you go to work without wearing a bra?” Her nipples are taut against a light sweater.
She shrugs and lifts her arm where the splint is secure under the sweater. My fingers wrap around her ribs before cupping her pert breasts and running tight circles over her nipples. Elise moans.
“Next time, wake me up so I can put it on for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t the 1950s, Randall. No one cares if I’m wearing a bra.”
“I do.” She snorts incredulously but it turns into a sigh when I duck my head under the fabric and suck hard at those tits.
My lips find a path downward, gliding over her belly button before pulling at the black leggings. She’s wearing those white panties with the pink bow at the center. I press my mouth against her wet cunt, moving the fabric against her clit.
“Fuck,” she moans. “You feel so good, Randall.”
“Should be inside you by now, baby,” I mumble while continuing to lick and press against her folds. “Say it.”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
I grip her ass so hard, it might leave a mark
“I mean yes, sir,” she pants. “Please, will you fuck me for breakfast?”
In one smooth motion, I pull off her panties and lift her on the counter. Hooking my arms under her legs, I bring her to the edge where my erection peeks over the elastic waist of my sweatpants.
Fingers fumble to free my cock. When we’re lined up, I slip smoothly to the hilt.
If I thought yesterday was overwhelming, this morning is another level of passion. I’m wrapped in her heat, unable to stop myself from seeking the depths of her soaked center. So slippery. So tight.
“Why do you feel this good, Elise? There’s nothing like it. You’re made for me, baby.”
I feel her body clench, and her eyes roll back as if my words carry her to another level of pleasure.
“Oh my god, Randall, there. There, oh god,” she rambles and heaves.
I take a delicious breast in my mouth and move her further off the counter so her entire weight is on my groin. My muscles straining, I bounce her roughly to deepen our contact. She screams my name.
The satisfaction of feeling her cunt pulse and her head fall back in ecstasy makes me feel like a man. Her man.
“Couldn’t wait till I brought you food to get your fill, huh, Elise. Needed this cock so badly, you ran home as soon as you knew I was awake.”
“I did, because I needed to be sure.”
She kisses me hard, our tongues delving. Kissing her is life, but I pull away because her words are puzzling.
“Be sure about what, baby?” I ask, changing my rhythm to grinding swirls while I work her clit.
“That you were still here. Last night was like a dream and I needed to be sure.”
Even as her mouth is agape with the promise of another orgasm, her eyes tell another story. One of vulnerability and doubt.
She’s not sure I would be here? Fuck that.
“I’ll say it a hundred times if that’s how often you need to hear it, Elise,” I say while picking up speed and flicking her clit. “I’m not only here, baby. I’m here to fucking stay. Do you understand?”
Her hands clench as her cunt clamps around me and it’s too much. Too much. I begin thrusting more earnestly.
“I said, do you understand? I want to be with you, Elise.”
“Me too, me too,” she mumbles. “Oh my god, Randall.”
“That’s it, come for me.”
She does and I can no longer hold back. Colors dance at the edges of my vision and heat pools in my groin. Pummeling inside her over and over, coaxing more bliss from both our bodies, I explode.
I’m not sure how long our sweaty bodies remain entangled on a kitchen counter, but it’s long enough that she shivers slightly.
Elise is cold and uncomfortable. Unacceptable.
“Let’s get your clothes on and some food inside you.”
Without waiting for her agreement, I carry her to the bathroom to freshen up.
“Did you mean it? That you’re here to stay?”
“I’m wherever you are,” I answer honestly. Elise stands on her own but remains pressed to me.
“I mean it, Elise. I want to be with you.”
She nods.
“I want that, too.”
“Like, for real dating.”
“I feel like we’re in middle school agreeing to go steady,” she says with a chuckle.
“Well? Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, Randall Haughland.”
Goddamn, I’m getting hard again. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, taking in the moment and thanking my stars that the one woman made for me thinks I’m worth keeping around.
I should tell her. There won’t be a perfect time to declare my love, but she should know how far my feelings go. How much she means to me.
But when I open my eyes, all words swish away.
Elise is on her knees, watching my cock grow. She runs her tongue along the bottom like it’s an ice cream cone of her favorite flavor.
My dick goes full mast.
Her tongue might as well be a string pulling it straight.
“What are you doing to me, baby?” I grit out, moving her hair aside so I can watch more closely.
“Tasting you. Tasting us,” she says between meowls. She’s lapping with gusto, and it is unbelievably sexy.
Her mouth wraps around my tip and she sucks till her cheeks hollow. I’m shaking with the effort to stay still. My entire body buzzes with the need to thrust.
She sucks and draws circles around my tip before taking me further. Again and again, she twirls and dives. When I’m deep throated, my balls tighten.
Pulling back to keep from exploding, I guide her back to her feet.
“Get up here, Elise. Look in the mirror and watch yourself come. My girlfriend is about to get a pounding.”
“Yes, sir,” she coos and faces the counter.
I grip her hips to cant her ass at the perfect angle and plunge.
In the mirror, we both fall apart.