“Whatever your reasons are, I respect them.” He cupped my cheek in his palm. “But it would really turn me on to hear you actually say it.”
“Say what?”
He leaned closer to me. “We haven’t ‘you know’ yet. Are you too timid to say it in front of me?”
I grinned, a wave of shyness washing over me. “I just dry humped you and came so hard I left claw marks in your neck. I can say that in front of you.”
“Say it, then.” He rubbed a hand over his cock, which was straining against the fabric of his jeans.
“God, you’re hot,” I murmured. “And even though we haven’t fucked, I’ve definitely fantasized about it.”
He gave a satisfied groan and reached for my other cheek, cradling my face in his hands and leaning forward to kiss me.
“You know what I want?” he said. “I want to make love to you, fuck you and screw you. Hard, easy, fast and slow. With my mouth, my cock and my fingers. Anytime. Any place. I want it so bad that waiting feels good. I want it when you’re ready for me.”
I wanted to invite him to my bedroom right now. But I couldn’t. I wanted to be ready for him, but I wasn’t. Not yet.
“I wish you lived here,” I said, the words coming out the moment I thought them.
“I’m not far.”
I slid my hand under his, rubbing his rigid cock. I pushed his t-shirt up his chest, my fingers skimming over the ridges of muscles there. Getting my message, he pulled the shirt up over the top of his head and tossed it to the floor. I let my tongue and lips wander over his defined abs. He groaned deeply and I reached for the button of his jeans, working them down.
He did not disappoint. His cock was bigger and longer than any I’d seen before. I pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him against the back of the couch. His eyes took on a glazed look as I licked and teased his tip.
“God, Samara,” he said in a strangled voice.
I took more of him into my mouth. It’d been a long time since I’d done this, but I remembered how instinctively. His groans of satisfaction told me what was especially good for him.
Of all the things we’d done tonight, this was the hottest. His pleasure was in the palm of my hand. I sucked and stroked, high from the sound of my name on his lips. His hand wove gently into my hair. He wasn’t using it to control my movements like men from my past had done, but as an affectionate touch. I reveled in knowing this powerful man had never touched me in any way that didn’t feel good.
“Fuck … I’m gonna come. Feels so good, baby.” He tilted his hips back, giving me a chance to avoid him coming in my mouth. But I craved the intimacy of it, so I took him deep.
He threw his arms back, gripping the back of the couch. His biceps and abs stood out as he strained. His hips flexed up toward me and I tasted him as he said my name.
When his muscles slackened, he dropped his arms and smiled at me.
“That was an out of body experience,” he said, waving an arm and patting his lap. I climbed up and he wrapped his arms around me. “Seriously. It was incredible.”
He kissed my forehead, temple and cheek before planting a soft kiss on my lips. Emotion welled inside me so powerfully I thought I might cry. I forced back the tears, not wanting him to think I was upset or regretful. To the contrary, I was overjoyed.
Orion
I put my car in park in front of the library, glancing over at Samara. Her hair was pulled back today, and my heart swelled at how fresh and pretty she looked. I was like a high school kid with a serious crush.
We both leaned over at the same time, meeting in the middle for a kiss.
“See you at eight,” I said. “I’ll get dinner.”
“See you then,” she said, smiling. I picked up on her fresh, sugary scent as she pulled away and got out of the car. I’d never be able to smell frosting again without thinking of her.
We’d been spending most of our nights together. We either cooked at her place, got carryout or had dinner with my family. When she worked at the library, I dropped her off and picked her up and we had a late dinner together.
Though we had long, satisfying make out sessions every night, she left her clothes on every time. It was something I wanted to bring up with her, but I didn’t know how. I always ended up deciding her comfort level was the most important thing, and I could wait until she was ready for more.
I was getting a taste of domestic bliss, and I wished it didn’t have to end. I had to report to training camp in a month, and I was already conflicted about it. Hopefully Samara would want to keep seeing me, but it would be much less frequent than our time together this summer.
When I pulled into the parking lot of the Henley Park District’s gym, there were only a handful of other cars there. This place was dingy compared to the team facility I used in Chicago, but it held fond memories for me. I’d spent many hours here during high school, working on strength and cardio training to help me edge out the competition.
I wasn’t working out here this evening, but meeting Dan and the producer from the sports network for an interview in the gym’s locker room. When I walked in, they’d set up lights and were waiting on me.
“Orion,” Dan said, reaching out for a hand shake, “This is Ashton Colson. He’s producing the piece on you.”
Ashton was a small guy with salt and pepper hair. He shook my hand and told me exactly where and how to sit on the wood bench that ran the length of the locker room.
“Perfect,” he said, clapping his hands once. “The team shirt’s a nice touch, by the way.”
I glanced down at my chest and saw my team logo on my black t-shirt. I hadn’t planned it this way. Being in a locker room made me consider all the lewd t-shirts I could’ve worn to freak Ashton out. Niko would’ve recommended ‘I heart Ass’.
“Alright,” Ashton said. “Let’s get started.”
He was near eye level with me even though he was standing. Dan stood behind a camera mounted on a tripod, giving Ashton a hand signal.
“This is an informal interview, Orion,” Ashton said. “No pressure. Try to repeat my questions back to me as you answer, because only your words will be on camera. Can we start with the role hockey plays in your life?”
“Hockey’s a huge part of who I am. My dad used to play street hockey as a kid, and he played it with me and my sister when we were growing up. Dad traveled with me and was an assistant coach for my first travel league. He was proud of seeing me make it to the NHL. Even now, I can’t believe I get paid to play hockey. It’s a dream come true.”
“Is it competitive at this level?”
I took a second to compose an answer without any profanity. “It’s very competitive at this level. There’s always someone ready to take my place if I slip. It’s one of the reasons offseason training is so important.”
Ashton crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me about your offseason training.”
“I do a lot of cardio in the offseason to stay sharp. And I do weight training. I’m working on my legs right now. The offseason gives me a chance to work on specific muscles that I don’t always have time to focus on during the season.”
“What about your role as an enforcer? Do you do anything to prepare for that in the offseason?”
I took a deep breath, considering. “The offseason is a good mental break for me. Being an enforcer can be tough. Some of those guys I throw down with are beasts. I have the strain of the game on my body and then the added strain of the fighting.”
“You took a nasty hit to the side of your head last season in fight,” Ashton said. “Do you ever worry about being seriously hurt playing hockey?”
“It’s not that I worry. But my body’s starting to feel it, even though I’m only twenty-seven. This offseason has been a good break for me. I’m recharged and ready for the season to start. We’ve got a great team – a lot to be excited about.”
“Why did you come to your hometown this summer instead of training in Chicago?”
“I wa
nted to spend time with my family.”
Ashton arched his brows inquisitively. “Tell me more about your family.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, man. Just hockey. My personal life’s private.”
He hit me with more questions about training, endurance and my future plans. I kept things general, but my mind was turning as I imagined where I saw myself in five years. Knowing I could get traded and end up far from Henley was tough. Not just because of Mom, Liv, Drew and Chloe, but also Samara. My gut told me she was the one. I didn’t want to lose her.
After an hour and a half, Dan and Ashton packed up their gear and I shook their hands and left. I felt light as I walked out to my Escalade. Even though our time together would be coming to an end soon, tonight I got to be with Samara.
Chapter 8
Samara
The bright blue glow of The Dugout’s neon sign reminded me anew that I was coming to a place I despised. It wasn’t the sports bar itself, but its reputation as the cool place for all the formerly cool kids at Henley High School to hang out.
“I don’t know about this, Orion,” I said, stopping a few feet shy of the front door.
“We’re just gonna get some dinner and catch a little of the game,” he said, entwining his fingers with mine. “If you’re bored, we’ll leave. Promise.”
I sighed, conflicted. On the one hand, I owed him. He’d watched a chick flick with me last night and even snuggled. When we were falling asleep, he’d told me his man card would be permanently revoked if any of his teammates knew he’d enjoyed it.
But on the other hand, The Dugout. It was like an impromptu class reunion in this small town, and I was not a class reunion girl.
Orion opened the front door and inclined his head toward inside of the bar. He did make me feel normal. Maybe this was another normal thing I could conquer with him beside me.
It was dark inside. I’d expected The Dugout to be bright, loud and annoying. But this wasn’t so bad. Orion kept his fingers laced in mine as he led me to a tall table. I recognized the guy sitting there. Casey Pennington. I’d never spoken to him in high school.
“Hey, you remember Samara Cross?” Orion asked, pulling out a chair for me. “Samara, this is Casey.”
Casey smiled and held up a hand in a wave. “Hey, Samara. I think we had calc together senior year.”
“We did.”
“I’ll try not to be an asshole, but my team fuckin’ blew a three-run lead,” he said, flipping off a huge TV screen hanging on the wall.
“You always did like losers,” Orion said, grinning.
“I like you, don’t I?”
Orion pointed at Casey’s beer bottle. “You need another one?”
“Hell yeah. If I’m gonna watch the rest of this game I’m gonna need more than that.”
“How ‘bout you?” Orion asked me.
I shrugged. “Just a soda.”
“You sure? They’ve got wine. I know how much you love it.”
He winked and I couldn’t help smiling. “Why don’t you surprise me? I know you have excellent taste.”
I watched him head for the bar before turning to Casey.
“So what do you do these days?”
He took a swig of his beer before answering. “I’m an electrician.”
“How do you like that?”
“It’s not too bad. I get to be my own boss. You’re at the Supersaver, right?”
I nodded, catching a glance at the big screen on the wall behind him.
“Hey, home run,” I said. “Is that your team?”
He turned. “Oh, hell yeah!” He pumped a fist in the air, his mood turning around in an instant.
Orion approached, setting a tray down on the table. He slid a bottle of beer across the table to Casey and then pulled a stool up next to mine and sat down.
“I got you a Coke and a fuzzy navel,” he said, setting two glasses in front of me.
That was him in a nutshell. Considerate beyond anything I’d ever imagined possible. He was always thinking of my comfort and happiness. I smiled and looked over the paper menu, resolving to have a good time. It was nice being at an impromptu class reunion with the hottest, most successful man in my graduating class. No one had seen this coming from freaky, dressed all in black Samara Cross.
My light mood was shattered by the appearance of Amy Munson next to our table. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring at Orion.
“What the hell is this?” she demanded.
He rubbed the back of his neck and glared back. “What the hell is what?”
She glanced at me for a second.
“I get it,” she said in an icy tone. “I fucking get it, okay? I humiliated you. You’re pissed. But humiliating me back isn’t gonna help.”
Orion sighed with agitation. “I’m not following. What I do know is that I’m sick and fucking tired of you bothering me.”
“Her.” Amy pointed at me and I warmed with embarrassment when the people at the next table looked me over.
“What about her? She’s with me,” Orion said.
“This is your way of embarrassing me.” Amy’s voice rose with emotion. “There is no other reason you’d be seen with her.”
I wanted to fall through the floor. She was saying what others were probably thinking. I wished like hell Orion and I were alone at my place instead of here.
Orion’s annoyance had turned to anger. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m seeing Samara.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“Because I like her!” he snapped. “Now please fuck off before you ruin our evening.”
“I’m sorry, what?” She sneered at me before turning back to him. “What could you possibly see in her? Have you developed a sudden taste for baked goods?”
Orion stood and looked down at her, his cheeks darkening with anger. “You know, my dad taught me that it’s never okay to call a woman a disparaging name. But if he hadn’t, I’d tell you right now that you’re not just a whore, you’re also a bitch.”
Deep laughter sounded from across the table.
“Also a cunt,” Casey said, slow-clapping his agreement.
I slid down from my stool, tears stinging my eyes. I had to get out of here. Head down, I made my way across the bar and out the front door. I’d only walked a few feet when Orion flew out the door behind me.
“Samara,” he said, catching my hand in his. “I’m so sorry.”
I wiped my cheeks, wishing he hadn’t seen me crying. “It’s fine. It is what it is.”
“No, it’s not fine. She’s just a bitter bitch.”
“We do make an odd pair,” I said, turning to walk to the alley he’d parked in.
“What’s odd about us?”
“You’re a superstar athlete with fans and money and I’m a misfit who works at a grocery store.”
Orion stopped, pulling my hand and bringing me to a halt with him.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “You’re an amazing person and I’m lucky you gave me a chance. Don’t belittle yourself and shut me out.”
I sighed deeply. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
“What, being with me?”
“No. Being normal.”
His brow furrowed with confusion. “I’m gonna need more than that, Samara.”
“It’s just, I appreciate you noticing me and … you know, finding me worth spending time with,” I said. “But you’re … not what I expected.”
He tipped my chin up so and looked into my eyes. “I’m not following. Are you saying you don’t want to keep seeing me?”
My heart twisted at his earnest, slightly crestfallen expression. “No,” I said quickly. “That’s kind of the opposite of what I’m saying. I thought you were trying to … maybe bang the crazy Goth girl from high school to prove it could be done or something.”
Now he looked hurt, and I reached for his hand and held it in my much smaller one. “You have to understand — I’ve been screwed over. It’s always wh
at I expect of people.”
He nodded slowly. “I’d never hurt you, though.”
“I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re so sweet and strong. You’re caring. I didn’t expect any of that. I’m getting attached. And I know you’re not out to disrespect me or anything, but you have to leave eventually. I just don’t want to set myself up for heartbreak.”
My cheeks burned. My candor would probably solve my problem by scaring him away. But the truth had spilled out, and now he knew.
Realization dawned on his face. “You’re worried I’m just looking for an offseason hookup.”
I cringed. “That sounds awful, but … yeah. You’re young and unattached. Why not? I’m sure lots of people our age do that.”
“Not me.” His expression had turned serious, and he slid his hand out from mine, wrapping it around mine. “I don’t have casual sex. I haven’t been with a woman since my last relationship. I haven’t even kissed anyone until you.”
I arched my brows with surprise. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to. I’ve always been pretty sentimental about that stuff. Why kiss a woman I don’t have feelings for?”
“You have feelings for me?” My hand flew up to my mouth as soon as the words came out, covering it. My face was now on fire.
Orion smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yeah. How could I not?”
He reached for my hand and gently tugged it away from my mouth, tracing his thumb over my bottom lip. I swallowed hard, not wanting to move for fear of breaking this spell.
“You’re amazing,” he said softly. “So beautiful. Smart. Tough.”
I laughed and bowed my head. “Me? If only you knew.”
“I know someone hurt you,” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “And you’re still trying to give me a chance. That has to be hard.”
Tears pooled in my eyes. “It’s that obvious?”
“No,” he said softly. “Not to anyone but me. The way you jump when I touch you sometimes or get uncomfortable if I’m on top of you – I can just tell.”
I tried to look down again, but his fingers held my chin in place. “It’s feeling trapped that bothers me.”
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