by Hughes, Maya
His box hit the floor with a thud and he wrapped his arms around me, matching my hungry kisses with starved ones of his own. Fumbling behind him, he shifted us into the open doorway and into the darkened room.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispered against my lips.
“Me too.”
His fingers tightened around the hair at the base of my neck. Tilting my head to the side, he ran his lips over my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
One second we were standing in the middle of the pitch-black room and the next the whole world tilted. I landed against Nix’s solid chest.
“Are you okay?” I tried to push myself up.
He tightened his hold around me. “The stress balls, sweatpants, and t-shirts cushioned my fall.”
“Thank you for today.” I peppered his jaw with kisses.
“Thank you for letting me do this for you.” The outline of his erection pressed against the front of my mound. Just one inch higher…
He wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, perfecting the angle.
I shuddered and ground my hips against him. Someone walked by the door, but we didn’t stop—couldn’t stop.
His hands cupped my ass, dragging me harder against him. The texture of his jeans added extra sensation against my clit. I was on fire for him through two layers of clothes.
My short gasps and his low groans were the only sounds in the room other than the fabric friction.
“We should get back out there.” I raked my teeth along the side of his neck.
“You’re probably right.” His hips shot up and I wanted to scream in frustration that he wasn’t inside me, but I didn’t want to break from the thrumming pleasure rushing all over my body.
“In a second.”
“In a minute.” His tongue danced with mine in time to the rhythm of our hips. Laughter rang out in the hallway behind the door, but I couldn’t stop. If someone came in, there wasn’t anything that would stop me from dry-humping Nix into next week.
He slipped a hand under the waistband of my pants and palmed my ass, squeezing me even tighter against him, and that was all I needed. The urgent throb met a blinding spark of release.
Nix groaned under me and ran his hand up my back, hugging me to his chest. Our panting breaths were punctuated by voices from the other side of the door.
Resting his forehead against mine, he kissed me, his lips tickling mine. “I think I’m going to have to borrow a pair of these sweatpants.”
27
Elle
Did I walk out of a supply closet looking like I’d had my world rocked like a high school student hiding in their parents’ basement? Yes, yes, I did.
Finger-combing my hair, I laughed as Nix followed me out in gray sweatpants with Fulton U printed down the side.
It wasn’t fair how much sexier he looked in those damn pants. They hung low on his trim hips, and it took all my willpower not to tug them down and push him back into the closet.
“You keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to tape my dick down with athletic tape.”
“I didn’t do anything.” My innocent look wasn’t working on him.
“Only a few more hours until this is finished and then we get to properly make up.” He picked up the previously abandoned box of stress balls and we walked back out to the field.
A reporter came by, took our pictures, and did a short interview about the blood drive and the possibility of it continuing in the future, suggesting maybe I could continue organizing the event in the coming years.
Tired but more energetic than I’d ever been after something like this, I sighed when we finally got back to our street. There was a silent promise in our quick, quiet steps in the Brothel, like one word spoken might screw things up and invite interruptions neither of us were ready to tolerate right now.
With my hand in his, we took the stairs two at a time, and Nix closed his bedroom door.
My hands flew straight for his waistband and his to the sides of my face, cradling my cheeks and skimming his thumbs along my jaw. “Do you think today went okay?”
“More than okay. You did good. Scratch that—you did freaking stellar.” I snaked my hands under his shirt and up his back before pulling his shirt up over his head. The combination of that sleepy bedhead look, bare chest, and gray sweatpants was a walking wet dream come to life.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
I wrapped my arms around him and rested my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat drummed against the side of my face. “It was better than I ever could’ve imagined. Thank you for all you did and getting everyone on board. Thank you for being someone I can count on.”
He hugged me tighter and skimmed his hand up and down my back, the other cupping the back of my head.
Gently leaning me back, he stared into my eyes. “I always want to be that for you. You can count on me.”
I nodded. The mood in the room shifted from hungry to something else. Another type of warmth crept over me, and I stood there, staring into his eyes, wanting so much for this moment to never pass, for things to always feel this good, to always be in his arms.
The tightness in my chest squeezed at my heart, and I broke the connection between us. I wanted it so much. I wanted him so much, wanted to be everything I had sworn I would never get to experience, everything I’d been sure no one would ever want to experience with me. Squeezing my eyes, I knew I needed to stop myself from heading down a rabbit hole with no end in sight. He said that now, but what happened when he left? What happened when the school year ended?
“Do they have someone who does this type of stuff for the team?”
“Community events type stuff?” Nix toyed with the hair at the base of my neck, wrapping it around his finger. “I don’t know. I could ask. It seems like it would be a good way to capitalize on the team’s popularity.”
“Hmm.” I took his hand and led him toward the bed. Why was the physical so much easier?
He sat down and corralled me between his legs, lifting my shirt and peppering my stomach and chest with kisses.
The frantic sex I’d envisioned when we left the supply closet gave way to something different in his bed, slow and languid with a connection that made it hard to breathe. Nix settled above me with deep, powerful thrusts, grinding at the end of each to tease my clit and draw out a seemingly unending orgasm. I was still tightly wrapped up in him, his name an uncresting wave that built and built until I could barely breathe.
With sweat dotting my skin, I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the feeling to return to my body.
“Elle, I l—” He swallowed his words. His body was rigid against my back. “Will you to come to dinner with me?”
I turned to him and rested my head on his chest, letting out a little laugh. “You have to ask? Of course I will.”
“Good.”
Running my fingers along his stomach, I drifted off to sleep feeling more content than I had in a long time.
* * *
“Finally. I was beginning to wonder if you’d been lying to me all this time.” A tall man whose quick movements spoke of a man much younger than the wrinkles on his skin indicated came up to Nix and hugged him before turning his open arms toward me.
“Gramps, this is Elle.” Nix grinned super wide as his grandfather cupped both my shoulders.
“Did he actually bring you the meal I sent with him?”
I looked to Nix and smiled. “He did, but I think there might have been a few bites missing.”
“Hey, I was good. I didn’t touch it.”
His grandfather tsked and shook his head. “Because of this, I think he should make the food this evening.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You cook?”
“I dabble.” Nix tapped the bag on his arm.
“Dabble—psh. After all I’ve taught you, you’d better be better than that. Tonight, it’s time for you to surprise us. You know what’s in the back. I’ll get your friend a drink and then we’ll be t
here.”
Nix headed into the kitchen.
“Thank you for having me here, Mr. Russo.”
He scoffed. “Call me Patrick. Red or white?”
“White. Thank you, Patrick.”
He poured me a healthy glass and handed it over. “If he hasn’t cooked for you, you’re in for a treat with Phoenix in the kitchen.”
“I’d imagine he wasn’t able to come by often during the season.”
“No, but he’s been back more often lately. It’s nice to have him here. He always loved the kitchen.” His grandfather’s pride shined brightly in his voice.
We went into the kitchen and Nix sliced some meat, sprinkling seasoning on it. Patrick pulled out a stool for me, and I hopped up on it.
“I’ll leave you two. I’m going to help with the service. Phoenix, don’t eat my portion.”
“If you’re not back here in an hour, old man, maybe I will.”
“I can help.” I set down my glass of wine.
“You’re a guest—no helping. See that she stays put.”
Nix saluted with the knife in his hand and nudged my wine toward me.
“This is how you were so good with the vegetables at Grace’s.”
“A few years of chopping duty in here”—he motioned to the stainless steel countertops, orderly prep stations, and people bustling around—“will do that to you.”
“What are you making?” I wrapped my fingers around the front edge of the stool between my legs and shook my shoulders in anticipation.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Just like you.” I took a sip of my wine.
“You’ve been full of your own surprises too.”
“But none as delicious as this.” I leaned over the seasoned vegetable mixture and inhaled.
His eyes raked over me. “I wouldn’t say that.”
The flush that had nothing to do with the steaming kitchen was back. I bit my bottom lip and took another sip of my wine, keeping my eyes off him. Not a great way to make a first impression, jumping his bones in his grandfather’s restaurant.
Nix working in this environment was a thing of beauty. I’d never seen him play, but if he was half as fluid on the field as he was in the kitchen, it was no wonder he was set to be a number-one draft pick.
“Can I come watch you play next season?”
His chopping faltered and he nearly took the tip of a finger off.
“Or not. Don’t feel like you have to invite me or anything. I know…” My words died in my throat, and all the promises he’d made me felt like a hollow pit in my stomach. Maybe he didn’t want me to come see him when he was playing. Maybe he’d be laughing it up in a hotel room crawling with football groupies by the time training camp was over. A panicked breath caught in my throat.
“Elle.” He stepped in front of me with his hand on my neck and his thumb running along the side of my face in what I’d discovered was his favorite ‘I need your attention’ move. “Wherever I am next year…” He traced his thumb along my bottom lip, breaking all kinds of kitchen sanitation rules. “I want to see you as much as I can. I know you don’t know where you’re going to be either, but we’ll make it work.” His soft eyes stared into mine with so much sincerity it made my chest hurt. That just-tasted-wasabi feeling shot through my nose, and I tugged my chin away from his hold to get a grip on myself.
“We can work it out.” I nodded, keeping my gaze trained on my legs.
“We can do more than that.” He planted a kiss on the top of my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Don’t you dare lose it, Elle. Fortifying myself with another gulp of wine, I slapped on a bright smile and went back to Nix-watching.
A little while later, he presented a plate of baked shrimp scampi, wiping the edge of the plate with a kitchen towel. A beautiful mix of colors wove themselves together on the plate that smelled even better than it looked.
My gaze shot from him to the juicy meat and perfect vegetables. “You’re a freaking magician.”
He laughed and tossed the towel over his shoulder. “We reserve that for the bakers. That’s true magic. Jules could command an army with the stuff she makes.” He leaned in close and glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone, but her stuff is five times better than anyone’s here.” He held out a fork to me.
“She’d be happy to hear it.” I froze mid-bite. “Do you know if Berk is dating anyone?”
Nix’s head shot back and his eyebrows dipped. “Not that I know of. I mean, there was this one girl who came by pretty regularly, but I haven’t seen her in a while. He’s been trading notes with someone recently, and that seems to be occupying a lot of his time. Why?”
Jules cutting me off from all edge brownies and baking me into a pie flashed through my mind. “No reason. It seems like you guys have a lot of visitors.”
“More like nosey neighbors. Reece is all loved up with Seph, LJ and Marisa are constantly bickering, and Berk’s doing his best hermit impersonation, so the Brothel madness has died down.”
I took a bite, and the meat melted on my tongue. The flavors combined together in my mouth into heavenly bite after heavenly bite. I may have grabbed hold of the counter at one point so I didn’t fall off the chair.
With every bit of strength I had, I kept myself from licking the plate clean, savoring each morsel.
“What do you think?”
“Not too bad.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Then you won’t mind if I just clear this away for you…” He grabbed the edge of my plate, and I whacked him with my fork.
“Back off.”
He grinned and slowly slid it across the counter as I scooped up the last bites and shoveled them into my mouth as quickly as possible.
“Not too bad, huh?”
“I was hungry.” I held up my hand over my completely stuffed mouth.
“I’m glad you liked it.” He took our plates to the stack of others being washed.
“Usually he eats all the food himself.” His grandfather chuckled and brought me another glass of wine.
“Sorry we ate without you.”
He waved his hand. “Don’t worry. He set some aside for me. Once the floor gets busy, there’s never any time to sit down, but it always feels good to see how happy it all makes the diners. He hasn’t cooked like this in a long time.” Pride filled his voice.
“Hey, Gramps, taking a break?”
Patrick scoffed. “Never. The meal was wonderful. You haven’t lost your touch.”
Nix beamed with a smile so wide it could be seen from space.
“It’s good to have you here. You’ve got to come as much as you can before the draft. Who knows where you might end up.”
“I’ll always end up back here as long as you have a place for me.”
“Always, Phoenix.” He hugged Nix and clapped him on the back. “Now what was this I heard about desserts even better than mine here at the restaurant?” His gaze swung to mine and my eyes widened.
28
Nix
“Pass the syrup,” Berk shouted, nearly climbing on top of the table and knocking his backpack off the back of his chair.
“Calm down! It’s coming.” I waved my hands toward him, giving the people around the Tavola dining room a placating smile. Even with the brunch crowd packed in, Berk’s voice carried.
Rubbing his hands together, Berk licked his lips. “An IV drip of this stuff wouldn’t be enough for me.”
“Would you like a side of diabetes with your breakfast?” LJ passed the small pitcher of syrup to Berk.
He drenched his pancakes, his sweet tooth in overload.
“Shouldn’t we have waited for the others?” Seph toyed with the edge of her napkin.
Reece wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Remember those teeth marks in the back of my hand when I tried to take a cookie from the Tupperware? Getting between Berk and a mountain of sugar is hazardous to everyone’s health.”
“There’s going to be none left for an
yone else.” Seph touched the handle of the syrup container. Berk growled and dragged it away while keeping his eyes locked on her, ready to fend off any attempt to remove it from his hold.
“Jeez, sorry. They’re your arteries, I guess.” Seph unrolled her napkin and settled it on her lap, unlike the other heathens at the table.
The front door opened, and Elle’s pink streak broke through the people near the entrance waiting to be seated.
She walked over and I pulled her in, kissing her, ignoring the whistles from the guys.
“Looks like Nix is getting his sugar already.” LJ laughed.
“What are you, eighty?” Berk shook his head.
Settling my hand on the small of her back, I guided her toward the table. “The jackass crew couldn’t wait and we ordered already.”
A small smile like she was only smiling for me broke out across her lips. “Don’t worry about it. Jules was stress baking and needed a muffin taste tester this morning, so I’m not super hungry.”
“It’s Jules, queen of the sugar rush,” Berk called out, dragging a chair over beside him at the table. “There’s an open seat here, and tell me what I need to do to get another batch of those cinnamon rolls.” He pressed his palms together.
She paused and grasped her purse tightly like she was afraid she might be mugged at any second.
“I swear I don’t bite—at least not without consent.” He chomped his teeth. “Seriously, I’ll do anything for those rolls. Do I need to get down on my knees and beg?”
Jules slid into the chair beside him, holding herself tight like a snapping dog was perched beside her. “Anything, huh?” She relaxed a little and set her bag down on the table. “How do you feel about marriage?”
His eyes bulged and he choked on the pancake he’d shoved into his mouth. A muffled “What?” was nearly swallowed up by his coughing.
“It was a joke. Don’t hurt yourself.” Jules’ deadpan voice was accompanied by an eye roll.