“You better get those jeans off,” she says against my lips.
I have to take my hand out of her pants and she slides off me so I can get my jeans off.
“Boxers too,” she orders.
“Somebody’s gotten bossy,” I say. “Very hot.”
Her gaze drops to my dick and she licks those bow-shaped lips of hers. Then she removes her pants. She must have shaved most of her pussy. It’s hot. Not that I didn’t like it with her mound covered, but seeing her bare and dripping for me is a big turn on too.
“My eyes are up here.” She lifts my head with two fingers under my chin.
I laugh. “Get over here.” I gently pull her back on top of me. Having her warm body against mine, breasts pressing into my chest, the heat between her thighs rubbing on my dick while our tongues lash and mingle, is a heady feeling I never want to end.
“Condom,” she says, panting in my mouth as I finger her and rub her clit.
“Not yet,” I reply, wanting to play with her. She’s so swollen and ready. Having her hold back her orgasm will just make it all the better.
She reaches down and fists my cock, then she begins to pump but not before smearing the bead of cum on the tip down my shaft. My vision blurs and I reach for the condom because my sex-filled brain is telling my dick to come now. I slip the condom over my shaft and Rebel seats herself on me. She moves slowly at first, but then picks up speed so her tits are bouncing in my face. We are a hot mess of moans and groans, and when she detonates, I follow right after her. Coming so hard my body jerks again and again as I wonder what it would be like to come inside her without a condom. And that’s when I know what’s happening here. I don’t just like Rebel. I’m falling hard for her. Harder than I ever planned to.
“Say something,” she says as we lie on the couch. Her arm and leg are draped over me and I draw lazy circles on her arm.
“I’m just thinking,” I admit.
“About the draft?”
“No, about you.” I don’t know if it’s a good time to bring it up, but I want to know how she was injured. What happened to her. I want to know everything about this girl and not because I’m curious about her injury or how I can help my sister, but because I am genuinely falling for her.
I feel her stiffen in my arms. “What is there to think about?”
“I was wondering what type of accident you were in. How you became an amputee. If you don’t want to talk about it, I totally get it. No pressure. Seriously,” I emphasize. I know I’m putting her on the spot, but I can’t stay away from this girl and it makes me want to know more.
“It’s not something I usually talk about, but I want to share my story with you,” she says quietly. Her palm rests over my heart and I wonder if she can feel how the beats are picking up. My own anxiety grows, knowing it can’t be easy for her to share her story. Knowing how hard it is for me to share my story. Hell, I even dropped my last name so no one on campus would connect me with my family and find out the truth.
“I’m all ears,” I say and I press a soft kiss to her forehead.
“You know my daddy was an addict,” she begins, and my own muscles grow tense. I nod.
“Well, he would get out of hand sometimes. He never really hit me and Blossom because we knew to gauge his moods and stay out of the way when we felt his anger rising. It was usually Mama who was there when he boiled over. He hit her too many times,” she says.
“That must have been so hard.”
“It was. Daddy would have his tantrums and take them out on her. Then he would feel bad and cry. He’d give her these long-winded apologies about how sorry he was. How he felt like an asshole for letting himself get out of hand. He’d promise to make things up to her. I heard my daddy in a fit of tears many times professing how he’d get himself the help he needs. Then he and Mama would make love. They weren’t very discreet. Blossom would take me to her room and make sure I stayed quiet, but as Blossom got older, she started to spend more and more time out of the house. That’s when I learned to run and hide in my closet.” She takes a deep, steadying breath, and when I look at her, she has a far off look in her eyes. Almost like she’s reliving the moments.
“I’m sorry. If it’s too much, I don’t want you to push yourself,” I say, because I feel nauseous just thinking what her childhood must have been like.
She swipes at a lone tear. “I never talk about it. Maybe it’s a good thing you asked. I’ve got a lot of secrets I’ve buried deep. I’m hoping talking about it will help me set them free and maybe me along with it.” Her words cut me deep. Deeper than she could possibly know.
“Continue then, beautiful. Cleanse all those bad memories from your mind.” When Rebel looks at me again, there is so much emotion in her gaze that my breath hitches and some weird feeling comes over me. I don’t have time to process it when she starts to speak again.
“One day, Daddy got really out of hand. I was a junior in high school. Mama had already left him, and Blossom was the one who carried the brunt of his anger. I figured it wasn’t fair and I wanted to help her calm him down. He was having a meltdown in the kitchen when I walked in. Blossom had gone grocery shopping. She was waitressing at that point and she helped pay for food. Daddy was angry that she bought too much. He didn’t have enough money to get more pills. I told him that we needed to eat, that we were hungry. But he didn’t care. He only cared about feeding his addiction.” She sniffles and blinks.
“I don’t know what came over me that day. Maybe I had enough of his meltdowns. I blamed him for my mama leaving, even though I know she was a coward and should have taken Blossom and me with her. Anyway, he started throwing the kitchen table around and breaking dishes. Then he reached for his keys. I grabbed them away from him and ran. He came after me. I made it as far as the front lawn when he took hold of me and peeled the keys out of my hands. Blossom picked up a baseball bat and began hitting him to get him off me. He was high and drunk when he got in his car.
“Blossom began to use the bat to blow out his headlights, thinking it may stop him from driving. I went to go move her out of the way and Daddy hit the gas. Only, he hadn’t put the car in reverse. He was so high he put it in drive. He ran us both over. I had multiple broken bones and so did Blossom, but a part of my leg wasn’t salvageable because he ran over it with the tire and the bones had crushed. I spent multiple weeks in the hospital. Blossom had more minor breaks and bruises. It was our neighbor, Mr. Hucksberry, who called the ambulance and police.
“My father took off in his car after he ran us over. I’m told he was involved in a high-speed chase when he smashed into a guard rail and was ejected from the car. He was pronounced dead on the scene,” she says, tears running down her cheeks.
My blood has run cold. Any nightmare I could’ve conjured up doesn’t compare to what she lived through.
“I honestly don’t even know what to say. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re courageous and supportive and loving,” I say, and my throat clogs with emotion.
“I was stupid. I never should have tried to stop him. I’ve run that day through my mind so many times. If only I did things differently. Calling the cops for one, instead of trying to stop him on my own,” she says.
“Those are your battle scars,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I guess I have the ones I wear and the ones on the inside too,” she admits.
“I…” My cell rings.
I pull it out of my pocket to see the name Christopher on the screen.
I put my phone aside.
“You can answer the call,” Rebel says.
“I don’t want to,” I say, shaking my head. And I know it’s not enough of an explanation after what she just shared.
“Okay,” she says softly. “You know you can talk to me too. It feels… I don’t know… cathartic?”
“It was my dad, Rebel. We don’t see eye-to-eye. He blames me for things I had no control over. He wants me to be like him, when I feel like I am nothing
like him. After hearing what you went through, though…” I run my fingers through her hair and she leans up and claims my lips. The kiss is soft and slow. It’s nurturing and filled with so much emotion. “I have to tell you something. Something I’ve been hiding.”
She stiffens, but after a brief second, she relaxes. “Tell me. Whatever it is, it won’t change the way I feel about you.”
I want to ask her how she feels because I am swimming, or maybe drowning, in emotion right now. Whatever I’m feeling about her is strong and overwhelming but also very cleansing too.
“I’ve been lying to everyone…” I begin and take a breath. “I’m not actually who I say I am, and I know the minute I tell you, you’ll probably want to go Google my family, but I am asking you not to. I’m asking you to keep seeing me for me. I don’t feel like I’m anything like my family and I want to keep that separation,” I say, knowing I’m talking in riddles.
“Wolfe, you are a kind guy with a great heart. Nothing you say can make me think differently. I don’t care who your parents are. My parents were losers. Does that define me? Does that make you look at me differently?”
I rub my palm against her soft cheek. “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
She laughs like I’m being ridiculous.
“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. Your courage and good heart have taught me so many things.” I kiss the top of her head and take a breath, then I pull back and look her in the eyes. It’s not the only lie I’ve told, but it’s a start in the right direction. “My name isn’t Wolfe Judd. Well, it is my name, but Judd isn’t my last name, it’s my middle name. When I applied to college, I dropped my last name. I was angry with my father and I was out in the world on my own. I didn’t want to have any ties to him,” I say bitterly.
Rebel nods, looking me in the eyes.
“My last name is Ellison. My father is Christopher Ellison.” I wince.
Rebel sits up and uses the blanket to cover her tits. “As in the Governor of Massachusetts?”
“Yes. I give people the impression I grew up poor, because I’ve been paying my own way at college, but that isn’t the case. My father doesn’t talk about me publicly and I have basically severed all ties with him. I grew up going to private schools and living a rich life, but that’s not who I am. And when I came to college, I wanted to leave that life behind,” I explain, and I can’t help but wonder if she will Google my family now and learn about the accident. I want to tell her about the accident too, but it’s too much for one night.
“Wolfe, it doesn’t matter to me if you grew up rich. I really don’t care about materialistic things. I appreciate you telling me the truth, but where you come from doesn’t define you. I don’t know what caused the rift in your family or why you don’t want anything to do with them, but what I do know is that you are kind, caring, and you have such a big heart. You aren’t judgmental and you have such empathy and compassion that it takes my breath away,” she says.
“I haven’t done much good in my life. I’m an asshole who doesn’t know what he did to deserve your good graces, but I’ll take it, Rebel.” I lean it to claim her lips. Slowly, I pepper kisses down her neck. This time when we make love, I worship her body. I spread kisses down each of her legs. She is a warrior—my warrior—and she accepts me for me. Not because of my last name or who my daddy is, but because she sees me. When I slide inside her, everything feels different. My feelings are intensified. This isn’t about getting off, it’s about our connection. The way we make each other feel. When I feel her building, I pick up tempo and thrust faster inside her. Her eyes stay on mine and we watch each other come apart. I’ve never had this before. Never made love before. Never felt this before. But watching her come apart, I know this woman is mine.
Twenty-Eight
Rebel
“You look happy,” Holland says, as she pulls out of my driveway.
“It’s terrifying,” I say, unable to hold back my smile.
Wolfe couldn’t stay the night because he had practice early this morning. Last night was so intense, it was liberating. Sharing my past with him was unexpected but cathartic. And him feeling as if he’s living a lie because he doesn’t want anyone to know who his father is? That was a curve ball I didn’t see coming. But what has me completely twisted up is that I’m falling hard for Wolfe. What happened last night was beautiful and broken and oh so very perfect.
“You don’t look terrified. You look satisfied,” Holland says, waggling her brows.
“I’m that too.” I smile, then frown.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I say as Holland pulls onto the highway. We’re headed into the city.
“We both need a break. You had the afternoon off and so did I,” she says. “It was a perfect opportunity.” Holland never takes breaks from her life so I really couldn’t say no to her. This day off seemed important to her, and after spending a lot of my free time with Wolfe, I feel like my bestie and I needed quality time.
“And Darren really didn’t care that we gave him such short notice?” I ask.
Holland rolls her eyes. “He was fine. I already spoke to Sophia and Karl about replacing us before I asked Darren so he couldn’t say no.”
“You’re something else.”
“So I’ve been told.” She laughs.
We crank up the music and enjoy the rest of the ride toward Boston. At least it’s a sunny day, even if it is freezing outside. I watch Holland and wonder how she always has her shit together, even after everything she’s been through. The way she works hard at the bar and in school, plus she makes time to volunteer at the hospital. She never does anything for herself and it makes me sad that she sometimes doesn’t take a breather and just live a little.
We pull into a mall and I take my pouch and sling it across my shoulders as I get out of her cherry-red BMW.
“So, what are we looking for?” I ask. I’m rarely one to buy clothes.
“We’re going to a frat party tonight. We need something to wear.” I almost stumble at her words.
“Oh no. No. No. No. No way.” I shake my head back and forth.
“Please,” she begs, drawing out the word much longer than necessary.
“Do you seriously see me going to a frat party?” I snicker. “That has to be one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard you say.”
“Just hear me out.” She glances at me as we walk across the parking lot.
I nod.
I owe her at least that. Her wanting to go to a frat party is very out of character for her.
She blows out a breath. “You know how we spoke about it being a good idea for me to just maybe have a hookup? Well, I thought about it and I want to do it. I’m always so busy with school and work and acting proper and doing the right thing. I’m burned out. I want to be wild and crazy. I’m young, and if I don’t sow my wild oats now, I feel like I’ll be some old bag one day who will feel like they never lived.” Her shoulders slump.
I hear every word she’s saying and they resonate deep inside me. “I can’t lie and say I’ve never had those thoughts. I used to mope around, thinking of the life I had before the accident and how different everything would be if I hadn’t lost my leg. Then Wolfe came along, and he’s turned my life upside down. I don’t recognize myself with him, which has been completely unexpected.”
“I’m a little jealous,” Holland says with a bashful smile. “Can’t Wolfe have a twin?”
I laugh, but it dies fast. “Are you sure it’s a hookup you want?”
“I just want to go to this party and have fun with my wing woman at my side,” she says. “I want to drink, let loose, and if I find some attractive guy I might want to hook up with, that will be a bonus. I know it sounds terrible, but I have needs that have been long ignored.” She sighs.
Holland was dating the quarterback of our high school all of senior year. She lost her virginity to him and they ended on good terms when he decided to move to California fo
r college.
“I’m in,” I say.
“Seriously?” Holland looks at me like there’s some catch to my agreement.
“I get it. I may hate every minute of being there, but I’ll go. For you.”
“OMG,” Holland screeches and throws her arms around me, almost toppling me over. “Sorry.” She steadies me and takes a step back.
“Can we go into the mall now? I’m kind of freezing my ass off.”
“Yes, definitely,” she says, and we head inside.
We walk into a large department store and head over to the dress section. Holland picks up a tight black dress and holds it up in the air. “Nice.” I nod my head in approval.
“Good. Go try this one on.” She thrusts the dress at me.
I shake my head profusely. “No. I agreed to go, but I’m not spending money on a dress.”
“It’ll be my treat. Or more like Daddy’s treat.” She waves the credit card her father gave her in the air.
“Get yourself something to wear. I’m sure I can find something in my closet,” I answer.
“What, like a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans or gym clothes?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Hey! Don’t diss the gym clothes. They’re my favorite,” I pout.
“Humor me,” she says, shoving the dress into my arms. She takes a green number for herself. “Just try it on for fun.”
“Why do I let you talk me into things?” I roll my eyes playfully and head into the change room.
Holland takes the one next to me. “I need to go to Victoria Secret after this. I don’t own a pair of normal panties,” she says.
“Huh. Well, I wear my Hanes bikini briefs. I don’t get any complaints from Wolfe,” I say and then I remember how excited Wolfe was when he discovered I was commando.
“You need some sexy panties too. It’s fun,” she says on a giggle.
“Fun? What is this word you speak of?” I mock.
I slip on the dress. Oh, hell no.
Holland must be in her dress because she knocks on my dressing room door. “Do you plan on coming out?”
Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series) Page 18