Chapter 30 #2
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching as she scraped the eggs onto a plate with more enthusiasm than skill. The toast was black around the edges, but she set it down beside the eggs like it was a goddamn gourmet meal.
She slid the plate toward me. "Eat."
I took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. "Tastes like regret and bad decisions."
She flipped me off, but she was smiling.
I was about to pull her into me when she froze, her eyes locking onto something over my shoulder. I turned, following her gaze.
The bathroom door was cracked open.
And there, on the sink, was a toothbrush.
Not just any toothbrush. A pink one. New. Still in the packaging.
Billie walked past me, slow, like she was half-convinced it was a mirage. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Then she opened the drawer beneath the sink.
Her shampoo. Her face wash. A fucking hair tie.
And an empty drawer.
She turned to me, eyebrows raised. "Did I miss a moving truck?"
I didn’t look at her. Just cracked another egg into the pan, the yolk splattering. "Just move in already."
Silence.
I risked a glance.
She was staring at the toothbrush like it was the first real thing anyone had ever given her. Then she looked at me—really looked at me—and something in my chest cracked wide open.
Her smile was slow. Soft. "You’re an asshole, Calder Shaw."
I flipped the egg, hiding the way my hands were shaking. "Yeah. But I’m your asshole."
She didn’t argue.
Just set the toothbrush down like it was made of glass.
And for the first time in years, my kitchen didn’t feel like an empty room.
It felt like home.
The toothbrush sat there like a goddamn accusation. Billie picked it up, turning it over in her fingers like it was evidence in a trial. Then she tossed it back into the drawer with a smirk.
"Guess I'm moving in, then."
I didn't answer. Just grabbed her by the waist and hauled her against me, my mouth crashing into hers.
She laughed against my lips, her hands already yanking at my sweats.
I let her push them down, stepping out of them without breaking the kiss.
Her fingers traced the scars on my thighs, the ones from old fights, old mistakes. I didn't flinch.
She pulled back just enough to yank her shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch. Her bra followed. Then she was naked in my kitchen, all sharp edges and soft skin, her hands going to the waistband of her sweatpants.
"Need help with those?" I asked, my voice rough.
She raised an eyebrow. "You offering?"
I dropped to my knees in front of her.
Her breath hitched as I hooked my fingers into the waistband, dragging the fabric down slow. She stepped out of them, her hands finding my shoulders for balance. I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, my thumbs brushing the sensitive skin there. She shivered.
"Teeth first," she said, but her voice was already unsteady.
I stood, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the bathroom. She squeezed past me to grab her toothbrush, unwrapping it with a smirk. I leaned against the sink, arms crossed, watching as she wet the bristles and started brushing.
"You're staring," she said around a mouthful of foam.
"Yeah."
She spat, rinsed, then turned to me, leaning her hips against the counter. "Your turn, old man."
I grabbed my toothbrush, but she plucked it out of my hand. "Let me."
She loaded it up with paste, then stepped in close, her free hand resting on my chest as she guided the brush to my mouth. I let her, my eyes locked on hers as she brushed my teeth with slow, deliberate strokes. It was stupid. Domestic. Intimate in a way that made my chest tight.
She rinsed the brush, set it down, then pressed her palms to my chest, pushing me back until I hit the shower wall. The water was already running, steam fogging up the mirror. She stepped in first; the spray hitting her skin, turning it slick. I followed, pulling the glass door shut behind me.
The water hit my back, warm and heavy. Billie tilted her head back, letting it soak her hair, her eyes closed. I reached for the shampoo.
"Don't you have Serpents meetings today?" she asked, her voice teasing.
"Being a part-time consultant isn't more important than hygiene," I said, popping the cap.
She laughed, low and throaty. "You really just want to watch me lather up."
I didn't deny it. Squirted a palmful of shampoo, then stepped in close behind her, my cock already half-hard against her ass. She didn't pull away. Just tilted her head back further, giving me access.
I worked the shampoo into her hair, my fingers massaging her scalp. She moaned, the sound going straight to my dick. I took my time, rubbing slow circles, feeling the way her body relaxed against mine. The water rinsed the suds away, streaming down her back, her skin slick under my hands.
She turned in my arms, her hands sliding up my chest, her nails scraping lightly over my nipples. I hissed, my cock twitching. She smirked, her fingers trailing lower, over the ridges of my abs, then lower still.
"Someone's eager," she murmured, her palm wrapping around my shaft.
I groaned, my head falling forward, my forehead resting against hers. "You have no idea."
Her grip tightened, her thumb swiping over the head, spreading the precum. I bit back a curse, my hands finding her hips, pulling her flush against me. The water streamed between us, hot and relentless.
She stroked me slow, her other hand braced on my shoulder. I let her, my own hands sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing. She gasped, her grip faltering for just a second before she tightened it again, her strokes growing more insistent.
I reached between us, my fingers finding her clit. She was already wet, already swollen, her breath hitching as I circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hand stilled on my cock, her body arching into my touch.
"Calder—" Her voice was a whimper, her nails digging into my shoulder.
I didn't let up. Kept rubbing, my fingers slick with her arousal, my cock throbbing in her grip. She was trembling, her body tightening, her breath coming in sharp little gasps.
"Come for me," I growled against her ear, my teeth grazing her earlobe.
She did. Her body jerked, her pussy clenching around nothing, her orgasm ripping through her. I kept rubbing, drawing it out, her cries echoing off the tile. Her hand spasmed around my cock, her strokes growing erratic as she rode out the waves.
I didn't give her time to recover. I turned her, pressing her against the wet tile, my cock sliding between her thighs. She was still trembling, her body sensitive, her breath ragged.
"Again," I demanded, my voice rough.
She didn't argue. Just spread her legs wider, tilting her hips back, giving me access. I slid inside her in one smooth thrust, her tight heat gripping me, making me groan. She gasped, her hands splaying against the tile, her body adjusting to the stretch.
I didn't go slow. Couldn't. Not with the way she felt, not with the way her pussy clenched around me, still fluttering from her first orgasm. I set a punishing pace, my hips snapping against her ass, the water streaming down our bodies, slick and hot.
Her moans filled the shower, her body rocking back into mine with every thrust. I reached around, my fingers finding her clit again, rubbing in tight little circles. She cried out, her body tightening, her second orgasm hitting her hard.
"Fuck, Calder—" Her voice broke, her pussy clenching around me, milking me.
I groaned, my own release barreling toward me. I buried my face in her neck, my teeth sinking into her shoulder as I came, my cock pulsing deep inside her. She whimpered, her body still trembling, her breath coming in sharp little gasps.
I stayed buried inside her, my arms wrapped around her, my mouth pressing kisses to her shoulder, her neck, the shell of her ear. The water streamed down our bodies, warm and endless.
She turned her head, capturing my mouth in a slow, deep kiss. I kissed her back, my hands sliding up to cup her tits, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. She shivered, her body still sensitive, still responding to my touch.
I didn't let her go. Not yet. I turned off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her before pulling her out of the shower. She didn't protest. Just let me dry her off, her eyes locked on mine.
The towel was rough against her skin as I dragged it down her back, my knuckles brushing the curve of her spine.
She shivered, not from the cold, but from the way my fingers lingered at the dip of her waist. I could see the goosebumps rise, could feel the way her breath hitched when I leaned in, pressing my lips to the damp skin of her shoulder.
"At your game tonight," I murmured against her, my voice low. "Two assists minimum, or there will be consequences."
She arched a brow, turning to face me, her hands already reaching for her sports bra. "Oh yeah? And how do you intend to punish me?"
I grinned, slow and deliberate, letting my gaze rake over her. "Wouldn’t you like to know."
She smirked, pulling the bra on, then her jersey, the fabric clinging to her skin. I didn’t look away. Couldn’t. Not when she looked at me like that—like she was already planning on breaking every rule just to see what I’d do about it.
I stepped in close, my hand finding the back of her neck, pulling her into a kiss. Hot. Brief. Her lips parted under mine, her tongue sweeping against my bottom lip before she pulled back, her eyes dark with promise.
"See you tonight, Coach," she murmured, her voice all smoke and challenge.
I grabbed her bag, slinging it over my shoulder like it was nothing. Like we’d done this a hundred times before. Like she belonged here, in my space, in my arms, in my fucking life.
We walked out together, the morning light hitting us like a spotlight. I didn’t let go of her hand until we hit the parking lot, where the team van was already idling, the girls chattering inside. She hesitated for half a second, then turned to me, her expression unreadable.
"You really want me here?" she asked, her voice quiet but steady. "In your space. In your mess."
I didn’t hesitate. "It’s not my mess anymore." My voice came out rough, but certain. "It’s ours."
She studied me for a long second—like she was trying to decide if I meant it, if I was just another storm she’d have to weather.
Then she nodded, slow and sure, and stepped into me.
Her kiss was quick, but it lingered in the way her fingers curled into the front of my shirt for just a heartbeat before she let go.
She walked backward a few steps, her smirk returning. "Don’t forget—two assists, or what? Consequences?"
I leaned against the truck, arms crossed, watching her. "Or rewards. Depends on how you look at it."
She laughed, shaking her head, and turned toward the van. I stayed where I was, the cold air biting at my skin, my eyes on her until the van disappeared around the corner.
For the first time in years, my chest didn’t feel like a cage. It felt like a fucking door, swinging wide open.
And for once, I wasn’t afraid of what might walk through it.