CHAPTER 19 BEN
“Oh shit!” she yells, and she hops out of my bed.
Yep, that’s right. Kaylee Dalton slept in my bed.
It’s true that I rarely bring women into my home, but it’s even rarer for one to sleep over.
I glance at the clock. It’s four in the morning, and she fell asleep in my arms. Dangerous? Absolutely. But after I watched her finger her way to an orgasm while she straddled my lap—hot as fuck, by the way, we watched a little ESPN before I took her up to my bed to fuck her slowly.
Slow was my only option after I got the shit beat out of me in the boxing ring. I probably should have spent the night icing my body, but I wanted this heat with her instead.
Once we went up to my bedroom, I had her perched on the edge of the bed while I stood over her, her legs up in the air balanced on my shoulders as I railed her from a standing position and watched her tits move with our motion.
So fucking hot.
I’m still not sure why I took her up there other than because I wanted it to be different with her and the stand up to fuck position is easiest on a bed.
I refuse to dig into why I wanted it to be different with her.
This is what it is, and it’s just sex.
It has to be just sex.
It has nothing to do with the cold feeling left behind when she realizes she fell asleep in my bed and leaps out of my arms, and it also has nothing to do with the warmth that was there before she bolted.
I laugh to cover up whatever it is that I’m actually feeling since that’s my default defense mechanism.
“I need to get home,” she says. She grabs her phone and pulls up the Lyft app.
“Your brother runs a tight ship over there, huh?”
She shoots me a look. “I’m an adult. I can do what I want, but let’s remember that neither of us wants this getting out to my family, and the longer I’m out, the more questions will arise.” She’s nearly dressed already.
I hold up both hands. “I get it. And I never called your brother back, so I’m already facing his wrath tomorrow.” I wince as I shift to get out of bed, and I grab her in my arms once she straightens. “When can I see you again?”
She smiles then reaches up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my mouth. “Are you going to the hockey game Friday?” she asks.
I nod. “But I won’t get to bang you there.”
She laughs. “If you could hand-deliver pleasure under Jack’s dining room table, we can find somewhere to have some fun at the hockey game.”
I drop another kiss to her lips.
“We’ll figure something out,” she says, and she cups my jaw for a beat. “Get some sleep, okay?”
I nod. “You too.” I let her go, and we head downstairs. She locates her shoes and I walk her to the front door, where the car is already waiting to take her away from me. She kisses me one more time before she opens the door, and I watch her cute little peachy ass bounce its way to the car.
I close my front door once the car pulls away, and then I lean on it for a few beats as I try to reconcile what’s happening here with my usual lifestyle.
I want to see her again.
I don’t want her to leave.
This isn’t me. It has to be because of the challenge. The secret. The thrill of the chase. The forbidden. The age difference.
It has to be because she doesn’t want something serious and I don’t know if I’ve ever been with a woman who didn’t want something I wasn’t willing to give to them.
It’s just so easy and natural with her. I can be myself instead of the guy everybody expects me to be. Frankly, I’m tired.
I’m thirty-two. I still party and play like I did when I was twenty-two, only my body is a decade older and every hit hurts a little worse.
I can’t show it, though. Any vulnerability on my end to anyone—Kaylee included—would only raise eyebrows and put the dreaded word I refuse to even think onto critics’ tongues, and I’m nowhere near retirement.
Sparring matches like the one today, though, remind me I’m not getting any younger. Maybe that’s part of the thrill of being with a twenty-two-year-old. She’s young and tight and firm everywhere and barely even seems to have to work for it. Being around her makes me feel that way again, too.
I collapse back into my bed and fall asleep wishing she was still here.
My phone wakes me a few hours later at seven-thirty, and I see it’s Jack calling. “You never called me back,” he says when I grunt out a hello. For just a beat, I wonder if he knows I’m porking his sister.
“Sorry. I had a chi—uh, a lady over. My options were to let you hear me shoot off on her tits or hang up the phone.”
Jack laughs. “You made the right decision then. Who’s this chi-lady?”
I blow out a breath. “Just some girl.”
“And you invited her to your place?” he asks.
“It’s not that uncommon.” I search for an answer as I sit up in bed. “She’s got a roommate.” You.
“Did she spend the night?” he asks.
“None of your business.”
“Don’t let her distract you,” he warns.
“No shit,” I say sarcastically. “Look, don’t worry about me. I know how to do my fucking job.”
“If that were true, you would’ve called me back.” His tone is icy, but he’s right. “Are you coming over for a workout?”
“Nah,” I say. “I need a day off.”
“Because of the girl?”
“No, because I sparred with Marshall yesterday and I’m fucking beat.”
Jack sighs. “You’re already distracted, aren’t you?”
“Fuck off,” I mutter. “I’m going back to bed.”
I hang up, but I can’t sleep. He was calling me last night to tell me about his meeting with one of the team’s newest coaches, which is information I’d benefit from knowing.
I’ll find out later, I’m sure, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about playing professional football, it’s that you always want to be prepared for any scenario.
Bad things happen when you’re not…and I’m starting to wonder whether all this time with the distraction that is Peaches Dalton is a good idea.