Chapter 27 Juliette #2
The drive feels endless even though it’s only fifteen minutes.
His hand stays on my thigh the entire time, thumb stroking back and forth in a pattern that’s both soothing and maddening.
I put my hand over his and he flips his palm up, lacing our fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You were good tonight,” I say, needing to fill the silence because the tension is so thick I can barely breathe. “That first goal—”
“I’ve scored better goals.”
“Not according to the WAGs.”
“The only highlight I care about is the look on your face when I pointed at you.” He glances over, eyes dark. “You blushed.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did. Your whole face went red. It was adorable.”
We pull into his building’s garage and he parks, cutting the engine. Neither of us moves for a second, just sitting in the sudden silence.
“Come upstairs,” he says quietly.
“That was the plan.”
“I mean—” He runs his free hand through his hair and suddenly he looks uncertain. “I just want you to know that I’m not expecting anything. If you’re tired, we can just sleep. I just want you there.”
It’s the vulnerability that does it. The fact that he’s giving me an out even though I can see exactly how much he wants me.
“I’m not tired,” I say.
“No?”
“No.” I lean across the center console and kiss him. “Take me upstairs, Romeo.”
We make it as far as the elevator before his hands are on me again, backing me against the wall, kissing me like he’s been holding back all night and can’t anymore.
We stumble down the hallway to his apartment. He’s kissing my neck while trying to unlock the door and it takes three tries before the key finds the lock.
The second we’re inside with the door shut behind us, everything changes.
He crowds me against the wall and kisses me hard, one hand in my hair, the other on my hip.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about this,” he says against my mouth. “Watching you up there in those jeans.”
“God, you’re cocky.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No.”
He groans and his hands slide under my sweater, palms hot against my bare skin. I’m not wearing a bra and when his thumbs brush over my nipples I gasp.
“Fuck, JuJu.” His voice is wrecked. “You went to the game without a bra?”
“It’s uncomfortable with this sweater.”
“You’re trying to kill me.” He pushes the sweater up and over my head, tosses it somewhere behind us. Then his mouth is on my breast and everything in me is molten. “Do you have any idea what this is going to do to me at the next game?”
“Then I’ll tell you beforehand.”
“No.” His teeth graze my nipple and I arch into him. “Keep it a surprise. I like surprises.”
My jeans are next. He unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, sliding them down my legs with his hands touching every inch of newly exposed skin. When he reaches my ankles I step out of them and suddenly I’m standing in his entryway in nothing but my underwear while he’s still fully dressed.
“Not fair,” I say, reaching for his shirt.
“Life’s not fair, baby.” But he helps me, shrugging out of his clothes, leaving them pooled on the floor.
I run my hands over his chest, his abs, feeling the muscle shift under my palms. He’s beautiful, all lean strength and smooth skin, and I tell him so.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct. “Bedroom. Now.”
He carries me down the hall, kissing me the entire way, like he can’t stand not kissing me for even the few seconds it takes to walk.
“Lie back,” he says, setting me gently down on the bed and hooking his fingers in my underwear, sliding them down. His eyes track every inch of newly exposed skin, then he’s kneeling between my legs, spreading them wider, and I realize what he’s about to do.
“Romeo—”
“Do you know how many times a day I think about the way you taste?” He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh and my breath catches. “About the sounds you make when I do this—”
His mouth on me is devastating. He takes his time, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on my clit that makes my toes curl. When he slides two fingers inside me I nearly come off the bed.
“God, you’re so wet.” He sounds as wrecked as I feel. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes.”
“Say it again.”
“It’s all for you.”
He adds another finger and I can feel myself getting close, that coil of pressure building low in my belly. I try to pull back but he holds me down with his free hand, firm against my stomach.
“Don’t run from it,” he says against me. “Let me make you feel good.”
I do. The orgasm builds and builds until I’m shaking with it, my hands fisted in his hair, gasping his name.
He works me through it, gentler now, until I’m boneless and trembling.
“That’s one,” he says, kissing back up my body.
“One?” My brain is still foggy.
“Every goal I score gets me an orgasm.” He stands and strips off his remaining clothes. “Like what you see?”
“Get up here.”
“Bossy.” But he’s grinning as he climbs onto the bed, settling between my legs.
He pushes in slowly and we both groan. It’s different every time, that first slide, the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but it’s also becoming familiar. Learning what we both like. Learning each other.
“Okay?” he asks, holding perfectly still.
I roll my hips up in answer and he grips my thigh before starting a rhythm that has me seeing stars.
“You feel so good,” he says against my mouth. “So fucking perfect, JuJu.”
I plant my feet on the bed and lift my hips trying to get him deeper. He gets the hint and shifts the angle.
“There?”
“Yes. Right there. Don’t stop.”
“Wait.” He pulls out carefully and I feel the loss immediately, aching and empty. “Roll over.”
I roll onto my stomach and he pulls my hips up so I’m on my knees, face pressed into his pillow that smells like him—clean and warm and safe. His hand runs down my back and I shiver.
“You good?” he asks, voice rough.
“Yes.”
“You sure? We can stop if—”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
He laughs, the sound warm and real. Then he’s pushing back inside me from behind and the angle is completely different, deeper, and I moan into the pillow.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You look so good like this.”
He sets a punishing pace, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise, the other reaching around to play with my clit. I’m still sensitive from the first orgasm and it’s almost too much.
“I can’t—”
“You can.” His voice is commanding now, dominant in a way that makes me even wetter. “One more, baby. Give me one more.”
“It’s too much.”
“It’s not enough.” He leans over me, his chest pressed to my back, his mouth at my ear. “I want you to remember this every time you sit in those stands.”
“I will.”
His fingers speed up. “Every time I score a goal I want you to think about what that means for later.”
“I promise,” I gasp.
“Good girl.”
The praise combined with his fingers on my clit and the relentless thrust of his hips sends me over the edge again. I come with a cry that gets muffled in his pillow, my whole body shaking, clenching around him. I feel him follow seconds later with a groan that I feel more than hear.
We collapse onto the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, both of us breathing hard.
“Two goals, two orgasms,” he says, sounding extremely satisfied with himself.
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulls me against his side and I drape myself across him, too tired and satisfied to move.
“Give me ten minutes,” he says. “Then I’ll get a towel.”
“Ten minutes?”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“Good. Serves you right.”
He laughs and presses a kiss to my hair. The sound vibrates through his chest into mine. “Best game day ever.”
We lie there in comfortable silence, his hand running up and down my back in long, soothing strokes. My hand rests on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow from racing to steady.
“JuJu?” he says eventually.
“Mm?”
“I’m really glad you came tonight. And I’m really glad you’re here. With me. Like this.”
There’s something in his voice, something bigger than just satisfaction, something that sounds suspiciously like feelings we haven’t named yet, but I’m too tired and too sated to examine it too closely.
“Me too,” I mumble, already drifting. And as I fall asleep in his arms, I think maybe this is what home is supposed to feel like.