Chapter Eight #2
“Oh yeah, they’ll make it out here for at least one, then they’ll likely come to our game against Florida so they can see Ace and me at the same time.” He nods, swallows his food, then lifts his drink and takes a sip.
“Your family is … a lot different than mine,” I say softly.
The contrast between our families strikes me with a sharp clarity as I think about his life.
Aston raises a brow. “How do you mean?”
“Your family is kind of like a fortress,” I say, a slight twinge of envy bleeding into my voice before I can mask it.
“I mean, all boys, elite athletes raised on a ranch in Texas by a mother and father who built a little kingdom of beautiful, talented men. You have each other’s backs no matter what, even when the pressure is brutal. ”
“And you don’t have that?” he asks gently.
I let out a soft, dry chuckle. “I have my dad. But it’s just the two of us against the world.
My parents were divorced by the time I was seven.
It wasn’t anything dramatic, really. My mother took her settlement and immediately checked out.
She’s spent the last fifteen years floating around the world with some twenty-five-year-old tennis instructor or a billionaire playboy she met in Ibiza.
I see her maybe once every few years for an awkward brunch at St. Regis, where she spends the majority of our time complaining about the humidity in the city before she leaves again to fly off to Mallorca. ”
Aston’s jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with a protectiveness that makes me want to lean across the table and kiss him. “What about your dad?”
“He raised me,” I say, voice steady and proud.
“But he didn’t want me to be like a fragile girl.
He wanted me to be his right hand in training.
Our dinner conversations were about school and friends, but also about network share percentages, advertising revenue blocks, and satellite uplink costs.
I don’t have any siblings, so it was just me, sitting in production offices after school.
He’s my rock, but his way of protecting my future was making sure I was tough enough to protect it myself. ”
Aston stares at me for a minute, then he slides his hand up my arm, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, his grip warm and solid.
“You’re not alone, Eva,” he says, his voice absolute. “You need to hide this from the network? Your dad? I get it. I’ll be just another player on the sidelines. You want to keep this between us while we figure out what this is? Done. But understand that you aren’t alone. I got you.”
A hot rush of emotion rolls through me, and I smile to mask it before a tear breaks free. The sincerity in his words makes me feel vulnerable.
“You’re something else, Griffith,” I whisper, then reach across the table and tangle my fingers into his shirt.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, his eyes burning into mine. “You want to take that with us?” He points to my plate.
“No, I’m good.”
He stands, then tosses a stack of bills onto the table.
He holds his hand out, and I take it and stand, twining his fingers with mine as we walk out of the restaurant looking like a normal couple.
But I still look around to make sure no one, particularly paparazzi, isn’t around to catch this moment between us.
I wish it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.
I wish we really could just be a normal couple, but we’re not.
So for now, we have to be aware of who’s around us.
The ride back to my place is a blur of rain and yellow cabs.
Our conversation at the restaurant went deeper than I anticipated, but in a good way.
I feel closer to him, and I feel like there’s an electric current between us that we’re barely maintaining control of in the tight confines of his truck.
As soon as we reach my building, we park and practically run to the elevator inside. The minute the elevator doors open to my floor, our restraint snaps. Aston doesn’t wait for the door to close before his hands are on me. He spins me, then locks the deadbolt with a loud click.
I let out a ragged gasp into his mouth as his lips crash onto mine with a hunger that’s been building for both of us. My coat drops to the floor, my bag slipping off my shoulder when my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers playing with the thick hair at the nape.
He groans, and it vibrates in his chest, as he walks us blindly down the hallway to my room, his mouth still covering mine. His tongue tangles with mine, and I taste the rich warmth of the bourbon on his breath. We hit the edge of the mattress, and the bed creaks when we fall together.
Aston looms over me in the dark. His calloused hands don’t fumble.
They move with the same precision he carries onto the field.
He takes the hem of my shirt and yanks it over my head, tossing it into the dark room.
In seconds, his fingers move to the front hook on my lace bra, popping it open, and my breasts spill out.
I gasp as his thumbs flick my nipples until they pucker into tight peaks.
“Aston,” I breathe, my back arching off the sheets as a spike of heat moves through my body straight to my core.
He doesn’t answer with words. He drops his head and buries his face in my chest. His hot mouth locks around one hard nipple, his tongue swirling before he sucks it between his lips.
I cry out, my hands holding his head to my chest as he bites gently, sending another sharp jolt through me. He moves to my other breast, licking and pulling my nipple with his teeth until I’m panting and my hips are moving restlessly on the mattress.
He releases my nipple and his hands drift down, grabbing the waistband of my jeans. He unbuttons them with a quick jerk and peels them down my legs with my underwear, leaving me bare beneath him.
Instead of moving immediately, he rears back just enough to strip off his own clothes. I watch as he pulls the black shirt off his shoulders, revealing the muscled planes of his chest and abs. He shucks his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion, and then he’s back on top of me, naked and heavy.
His thick cock pools with precum against my inner thigh, making me shudder. He kisses me on the mouth, then kisses and bites a path down my stomach and over my hip bones. Then he grips my thighs possessively as he pushes my legs wide open, pinning my knees to the mattress.
“Aston, please. Fuck me,” I beg, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Not yet,” he says, his voice gravelly, vibrating against my skin. “I need to taste that sweet honey.”
He leans in, and I can feel his breath over my aching, swollen center before his tongue twirls around my clit. I moan, my head pushing into the pillow as his tongue strokes slowly from my opening to my clit. He pins my hips down with his forearms, locking me in place so I can’t move.
Aston becomes relentless as his tongue laps at me in deep strokes, sucking my clit into his mouth while two thick fingers slide inside me, pumping in and out in a hard rhythm that mirrors his tongue.
The sensation is overwhelming. I feel like I’m about to go over the edge as my walls stretch around his fingers while his tongue flattens, ruthlessly rubbing against my clit.
“Oh fuck, Aston. I’m gonna break,” I practically sob, my hips bucking against his mouth.
He pulls his fingers out, his mouth leaving me just as I’m about to come. He moves back up my body, his face flushed, his gaze … predatory.
“You’re not gonna break, Honeybee. Because I’m gonna feel you come around my cock.”
But as he hovers over me, his dick twitching against my thigh, he pauses. His chest heaves as he fights for control.
Reaching blindly toward the floor, he grabs his jeans and searches the pockets until he finds a condom. I watch as he rolls on the latex smoothly over his rigid cock, his jaw clenching as he finishes putting it on.
“Turn over so I can fuck you from behind,” he commands, his voice dark.
I roll onto my stomach, then brace myself on my hands and knees. Then I look over my shoulder and see his face as he drives his hips forward, driving inside me completely in one perfect stroke.
“You’re so fucking tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy and bury my cock so deep you’ll be branded to me for the rest of your life.” He brushes his hand gently down my back to my crack.
A loud moan erupts from my throat, my back arching as the blunt fullness of him stretches me. I fist the sheets in my hands to anchor myself to him as the raw friction of him inside me sets my body on fire.
“Goddamn, Eva,” Aston groans, just as my tight walls clamp around him like a vice.