14. Cassy
Chapter fourteen
Cassy
H and in hand, we dash out of the bar like we’ve stolen something, and honestly, we kind of have. A moment. A feeling. That wild, grinning, adrenaline-drunk high of winning and wanting.
The Lounge behind us fades into silence as we race through the empty concourse of the arena. Compared to the chaos earlier, the blaring horns, screaming fans, the pounding of blades on ice, it’s damn near a mausoleum now.
The glossy floor’s scuffed from the night’s traffic, crushed popcorn trailing in every direction, and abandoned drink cups are tipped over like casualties. The air still carries that sharp tang of sweat, ice, and overcooked nachos.
“Blake, slow down!” I laugh, but I’m barely breathing. My shoes were not made for this much cardio. “I’m wearing heels, you psycho.”
“No chance,” he grins over his shoulder, not breaking pace. He’s dragging me like some overexcited Labrador with a six-foot-two stride.
We fly past shuttered concession stands. Lights flicker overhead, the screens are still cycling game highlights. ACES WIN flashes in aggressive red like it’s yelling at the empty arena.
I trip over a flattened hot dog wrapper and nearly face plant, but Blake yanks me upright like it’s nothing. I swear he doesn’t even notice.
“Where the hell are we going?”
“Shortcut. Section ten.”
We veer right, barreling down a hallway with maybe two staff members in sight, both of whom wisely pretend we don’t exist.
Blake swipes his ID.
The secure door clicks open, the world behind us slipping into darkness as we enter the underbelly of the building. Gone is the crowd noise, the beer-stained laughter, the pulsing beat of post-game music. Here, it’s all fluorescent buzz and sterile floors.
He stops so fast I nearly slam into him.
And then he kisses me.
No warning, no preamble, just his mouth crashing into mine, rough and demanding, like he’s still skating full tilt and I’m the only thing that can stop him.
His hand fists in the back of my shirt, and I feel myself melt and ignite at the same time.
I clutch the front of his shirt like I might fall if I don’t, and it’s frantic, heat surging under my skin. There’s no finesse, no tenderness. Just hunger.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his lips parted, his eyes burning.
“What’s the rush, buddy?” I breathe.
“You’re a drug and I need a fix.”
I grab his hand again. “Come on, Captain.”
We run, nearly sliding on the stupid industrial tile. We skid toward the elevator like a pair of hormonal teenagers in a bad teen movie.
He jabs the button. Nothing. We wait. Still nothing.
A groan leaves him.
I death-glare the elevator. “Stairs it is.”
I yank him with me, and we hurl ourselves through the stairwell door, clanging down two flights like we’re in a high-speed chase.
By the time we reach the event level, we’re breathless. Laughing. Wild.
The corridor stretches ahead, quiet except for the sound of equipment being packed up, distant and irrelevant.
Past Media and Comms, to our right, the locker room door waits.
Blake slows and exhales, his grip loosening just slightly as he pushes open the door and flicks on the lights.
It smells like sweat, testosterone, and quite a turn-on.
The place is empty. The benches, stalls, taped-up nameplates, and the ACES logo on the floor all seem to be watching us.
Blake doesn’t even give me time to take it in. He yanks me into his arms again, pressing me up against the nearest locker like the door might vanish behind us.
“You promised to rip my clothes off,” I whisper against his mouth.
His hands are already under my top.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “And I keep my promises, but I think I should lock the door first.”
Before I can shoot off some smartass reply about how I don’t care who walks in, he breaks away. He takes one step back, turns, and flicks the lock up with a snap.
Click. That sound shouldn’t be sexy. But somehow, right now, it absolutely is.
Then he’s back. Fast. His hands are on me before I can blink, yanking me forward, his mouth crashing into mine again. I taste adrenaline and beer and him, and I want more. Way more.
He pulls my blouse, no, wait, yanks it, over my head so fast I nearly elbow him in the face. “Whoa, careful there, Mitchell, this top was expensive.”
“And?” He spins me toward one of the benches, dragging me back with him, his lips still locked on mine, his fingers already behind my back, unclasping my bra with one hand.
It hits the floor. He barely even looks before his mouth is on my neck and collarbone, dragging hot, hungry kisses across skin I’m suddenly way too aware of.
It doesn't take me long before my fingers are at the hem of his shirt.
I tug hard. He grunts.
“You sure you want to do this here?” he mutters into my skin.
“Blake. Shut up.”
The shirt comes off over his head. He tosses it somewhere, it lands on the stick rack, I think. Honestly, not my problem. My hands are on his chest, hard and warm. I'll never be able to get too much of his damn body.
He grins. “Oh, Jesus, Cassy.”
My fingers go to the waistband of his pants, and I fumble with his belt until it comes loose.
He lifts and deposits me on the bench like it’s nothing, before kneeling, tugging off my boots, and tossing them across the room. My socks follow. He peels off my jeans, the rough denim scraping my thighs as they go, and it’s frantic, awkward, like we’re both trying to get to the next part faster.
I’m sitting there in nothing but my black lace thong, my legs open just slightly, and he pauses for a beat. Just a second. Long enough for his gaze to drag up my body and land on my face like he’s got a thousand thoughts and none of them pure.
“I swear to God,” he mutters. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” I whisper, reaching for his pants. “Get those off NOW, or I will.”
He stands, unfastens the button, the zipper, and kicks them off along with his shorts.
And hello . His cock springs out, proud and swollen, glistening with pre cum on the end.
Guess I’m not the only one ready to explode. I stand and tug him back toward me.
His mouth’s on mine before I finish that thought. His hands slide down my back, grab my ass, and lift me into him, onto him. I wrap my legs around his waist as we stumble toward the nearest wall, knocking over a crate of tape.
I slide down the wall to a crouch, breathing heavily.
Curling my fingers around his erection, I mumble, “Damn you are excited aren't you?”
His length pulses in my grip, a silent affirmation. I can't help but smirk as I take in the sight of him, so ready and eager. Leaning in, I press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty hint of pre-cum. My lips part, and inch by inch, I savor the way he fills my mouth.
“Uhh... Cassy,” he moans softly, his hands tangling in my hair. I can feel his body responding to every flick of my tongue, every gentle suck.
My fist wraps tighter around the base, working in tandem with my mouth, creating a rhythm that has him gasping. With my other hand, I grip his ass, pulling him deeper into my mouth, relishing the way his buttocks clench under my touch.
I glance up at him, and the sight is intoxicating. His head is thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut, and his face contorted in pleasure. His breath is erratic, and as he opens his eyes, they lock onto mine, dark and full of desire.
I pull him out for a moment, a teasing smile playing on my lips. “I think you like this, don't you?” My voice is no more than a sultry purr.
With a heavy breath, he pants, “Yeah...way too... mu-much...” I can feel his helmet swell, a sure sign he's close. But I don’t want him blowing his load just yet.
Now pulling my head back and forth, his breathing is pretty much out of control, and he groans, “Cassy, Cass, I can't... I can't...”
I quickly pull him out of my mouth, watching his cock twitch with need. “Not yet, big boy,” I smile, my voice a mix of tease and promise.
He looks down at me, a playful glint in his eyes. “Okay, so that's how you want to play it.” The challenge in his voice unmistakable.
Before I can react, he picks me up and lays me down on the bench. For a moment, he just gazes at me, his stare intense and full of desire. He strips off my thong in one rough pull.
Then, he leans down again, his lips melting onto mine. Our kiss is ardent, all tongue and lips, a clash of passion. He starts to kiss my earlobe, which sends me manic, then works his way round to my neck, each touch making my pussy wetter and wetter by the second.
His lips trail down, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He kisses my neck, heading south to my chest, each kiss a promise of more to come.
That's when I feel his fingers graze over my breasts, each one in turn, sending roaring spikes of anticipation through me. As he works his way down, he kisses around each breast, first the left, then the right, with the occasional flick of his tongue that has me arching into him.
His hot breath over one of my nipples is almost too much as a whisp of pleasure escapes my lips. “Oh..” I breathe out, my breath coming heavier. “Ohh...Blake, Blake.” His mouth is relentless, his tongue swirling around my nipple before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently.
Exploring me like a map, he kisses all around the mound of my breast, while twirling my other nipple in his fingers. The dual sensation is driving me wild.
Then, his tongue glides up and flicks over it, followed by a small bite that has me groaning. “Ahh..” I can't help but cry out, the pleasure is almost too much.
He doesn't stop there. He begins to suck, his mouth hot and demanding. As he does, he drags a finger down the center of me across my tummy and onto my pubic hair, each touch a tease of what's to come.
His mouth moves further and further downward, kissing under my breast, leaving a flurry of sparks. His fingers roam over the inside of my thighs, gently opening them.
As he blows on my belly, I scrunch his hair, feeling the tension build with every touch. His fingers rub over my mound, and I can't help but moan, getting so worked up as his tongue glides along my skin.
Then, I feel it. His fingers slip inside me as his mouth engulfs my clit. “Uhhh...” Another groan escapes me.
As he works his fingers in and out of me, I squeeze my eyes shut and clamp my thighs against him, snapping my hips up, once, twice, three times before I freeze. All the muscles in my thighs, belly, and ass tense and quiver, and I contract against his mouth and fingers.
I'm nearly there. My climax builds quicker and quicker, my breath now even more erratic as I go higher and higher.
Until— “YE-E-ESSS BLA-A-AKE,” my orgasm swallows me, and I'm thrashing about as frenzied fizzles of energy consume me, and sparkly shimmers fill my mind.
One climax crashes, then another, as the sensation of him fingering me and licking me sends me into oblivion.
Catching my breath, I shove him off, my body craving his throbbing manhood. “Blake, I need you to FUCK ME NOW!” I pant, my voice a mix of desperation and desire.
He kneels up in front of me, and I watch as he takes his cock in his hand, slowly stroking it. The sight turns me on so much that I reach for my breasts, cupping them, feeling the weight of them in my hands.
His muscular body is fit, tight, and a sight to behold, his six-pack rippling with every movement, his gorgeous face, even with the bruising, a mask of desire.
Looking down at me, he says, “Nahh, babe... You're not my type.”
What the actual fuck?
“Huh?” I gasp in utter disbelief.
But he smiles at me, a playful glint in his eyes, says, “Got you,” and without warning, slides his big, fat dick into me, inch by massive inch.
The sensation is extreme, and I can't help but cry out, “Oh, my God.”
Slowly, he begins withdrawing, right to the tip, making me shake, then slowly he squeezes back into me as far as it can go.
Then, leaning down, Blake grinds himself against me, our bodies now skin on skin. His fingers slide through my hair at the same moment that his lips connect fiercely with mine. His kiss is instantly deep, dominating, full of an intensity I've not felt before.
“Uhhh, Blake...” I breathe on his lips as he builds the momentum. He's completely in control, but I couldn't give a shit as he pumps me like a freight train, his cock ramming in and out, in and out.
“Uhh…ohhh, Blake, Blake, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, YE-E-ESSS...” My orgasm spirals and spins, and suddenly, he rolls us completely off the bench onto the hard floor. Now, I'm on top of him, looking down.
As we carry on, I tousle my fingers through my hair, riding him, flying from one climax to another without any breaks.
His breath is short, and he grabs me by the waist and sits up to meet me.
Pulling my body up and down on him, his mouth goes to my breast, and he sucks with a fury. That's when I feel it. His body quivers and tenses, and—
“CASS…CASS…Oh, fuck… Uuuhhhnn,” he growls as his hot seed pumps with force inside me, making another wash of orgasm swallow me whole.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
I don’t even know what that was, but I’m quivering like I just stuck a fork in a socket and liked it.
I float, yes, float, down onto his chest, skin flushed, hair a mess, no shame in sight. My thigh's twitching. I’m not sure if that’s a muscle spasm or my soul trying to leave my body. Either way, I’m not moving.
Blake is sprawled beneath me, his breath shot, and his arms slack like he just gave everything, and maybe a bit extra he didn’t even know he had.
He blinks once, slowly, then lets his head fall back on the floor. “I can’t feel my legs.”
I smile. Fixed. Unmoving. Permanent. “My fault?”
“Absolutely.” His mouth drags over mine, not even a kiss, just the barest scrape of heat and lips and something way more than affection…
“I love you,” I murmur into his neck, completely boneless now. “So much.”
“Good.” His arm curls around me.
I finally roll off him, still sticky, my limbs barely cooperating. I land beside him on the hard floor, bare skin against cold tile, completely not caring that we’re lying across from a pile of sweaty towels and God knows what other biohazards.
He drags me back in with one arm, tight, close, and warm. No words now. No smartass remarks. Just this solid, very naked body pressed into mine like he’s not letting go for anything.
And I let him.
Because whatever that just was? I definitely want more. Then, for some reason, this morning’s conversation before I left home flashes through my head. “Blake?”
“Umm?”
Not entirely sure if this is the best time to bring this up, but it falls out of my mouth anyway. “Just thought I'd let you know. I spoke with my Dad this morning.”