“What are you doing?” I squeak and giggle in surprise as he moves through the basement toward the stairs.
He doesn’t answer or set me down until we’re upstairs. Pinning me against the wall, one hand at my waist, the other on the wall above my head, he captures my mouth in a bruising kiss. I forget I asked him a question until he pulls back and says, “I needed to do that. You ready to go? We can stay longer, of course, if you want to keep dancing, but I have all kinds of things I want to do to you right now.”
“Like?” I ask, breathless and my sex clenching at his words.
His mouth opens, he pauses, and then shakes his head. “I can’t come up with a nice way to say I want to fuck you into next week.” He holds his hand out to me. “What’ll it be, angel?”
Who needs nice? “I think I’ve had enough dancing.”
* * *
We catch a sober ride to Rhett’s apartment. It’s quiet, everyone else is still at the party, but we don’t turn on a single light as we kiss our way through the living room, down the hallway, and finally into his bedroom.
His phone rings. The screen lights up his pocket in the darkness.
“You’re ringing,” I say, not removing my lips from his.
“No, you are.”
He takes my phone out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“It’s Elias.” Shit, I know he’s checking in on me. I texted him a picture of me drinking with the girls and like the overprotective brother-type he is, he’s going to worry until I assure him I’m fine. “Just give me one second.”
I answer, not moving away from Rhett. “Hey.”
“Hey, I’m headed to bed. Everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“With Roy?”
“Mhmm.” I press my lips to the man in front of me.
“Okay. Be good-ish. Call me tomorrow.”
“Bye.” I slip the phone into my pocket. “Sorry about that. He worries.”
Rhett’s brow furrows. “About you being with me?”
“No, it isn’t that.” I shake my head. “He knew I was out drinking.”
He waits for me to elaborate.
“Elias has the same heart condition I do, so when one of us does something that puts us more at risk, we get a little protective.”
He nods slowly like he’s finally piecing it together. His hands slide under my shirt and lazily stroke my skin.
Now that we’re not in a frenzied lip lock, I’m nervous. I like Rhett. He’s different than I expected. Nice, fun, stupid hot. Speaking of stupid, hooking up with him might be just that. I no longer think he’s a player, but that doesn’t mean this won’t still end in heartbreak.
We messed around a bunch last night, but tonight feels different. Sex is imminent, and I know myself well enough to know that taking it to the next level will only increase my feelings for him.
“And are you okay?” he asks, sliding one of those hands up my back, sending a shiver up my spine.
“I’m perfect.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I jump into his strong arms and kiss him to show him just how okay I am. Josie is right. The regret of not knowing would be worse than any disaster that’s heading my way.
He lays me down on his bed, kicks off his shoes, and pulls his T-shirt over his head. I move to kneel on the mattress in front of him and undo his jeans. God, he has a great body.
Anticipation and excitement make my fingers move fast, but Rhett’s jeans are a real challenge to get over his legs.
He chuckles, helping me, and then I’m eye level with a serious bulge covered only by black boxer briefs. He stands there, unmoving, as I inch them down. His dick springs free.
I hesitate, swallowing. He’s long and thick. A bead of precum leaks from the tip.
“It’s so pretty.”
His chest puffs out before the sound of his laugh fills the room. “Pretty?”
“Mhmm.” I run a hand along the V of his hip. “Are you going to tell me it’s handsome or some other masculine term?”
“Hell no.” His voice is gruff and his ab muscles contract as I glide my hand south. “You keep staring at it like that and you can use whatever adjective you like. Besides, girls like pretty things.”
That we do.
As I bring my mouth to the head of his cock, I suddenly wish I were more of a drinker because some liquid courage would be great about now. I’m all sobered up and second-guessing every movement.
“Ah fuck.” His words are deep and throaty. His fingers thread through my hair and then one hand grips my neck, pulling me off his dick and guiding my face up until he slams his mouth down over mine in another crushing kiss.
Guiding me with that big hand at my neck and another snaked around my waist, he forces me onto my back.
He’s muscular, but lean and watching his body move over me is the sexiest thing. His hand stays at my neck as he kisses his way up my stomach, stopping to bite each nipple, and then slanting his mouth over mine in the most tender way that I’m not expecting.
I shift my hips under him, grinding up into his dick. He groans and the grip on my neck tightens.
“One second.” He shifts to open a drawer on his nightstand, grabs a condom, and covers himself.
At first I think it’s light from the window shining in, but when he positions himself at my entrance, I giggle at the neon yellow color of his dick.
“It looks like a banana.”
“Glow in the dark, baby.”
“Afraid I wouldn’t be able to find it?” I tease.
The thick head of his cock pushes in an inch and I suck in a breath.
A wicked grin pulls at his lips as he pulls out that delicious inch. Sitting on the bed, he pulls me up and onto his lap. He lowers me slowly down onto him. His penetrating gaze is millimeters from mine and he catches every whimper and moan as he fucks me.
His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling my head back so he can suck on my neck. All while he pumps my body down onto his over and over.
When my breaths come quicker, he grips both of my hips to increase the pace and angles my body backward so he can kiss and suck my boobs. I detonate in his arms. He’s doing all the work anyway, but I’m a rag doll as my climax goes on so long it blends with his moments later.
My heart flutters and I lean forward and rest my head on his shoulder. He’s still buried inside of me and he wraps his arms around my waist and brushes my hair away from my face so he can place a kiss on my forehead. And his heart hammers against me in perfect rhythm.
* * *
I fight a yawn as we get ready for bed. I finger-brush my hair and Rhett gives me a T-shirt to sleep in.
“Green,” he says as he snuggles up behind me.
“What?” I fight my eyes to keep them open.
“At the bar, you guessed my favorite color was blue, but it’s green.”
“Mine is blue.”
“I wonder what the third question was.”
“I don’t know.”
“I wanna know you,” he says quietly. “All the things.”
I’m smiling when I fall asleep. It doesn’t take long. Exhaustion pulls me under and I can’t remember ever being so content. I’m woken by a phone ringing. My first instinct is something is wrong with Elias, but this time it’s Rhett’s phone ringing.
I nudge him. “Your phone’s ringing.”
“Hmmm?”
I nudge him again.
Without opening his eyes, he feels around for his phone and then brings it to his ear. “Hello?”
A feminine voice replies, zapping me from my happy, sleepy place. His eyes open and he sits up. He brings the phone away to look at the screen, then jams it back to his ear. “What the hell, Carrie? It’s three o’clock in the morning.”
I roll onto my back while he continues to talk to Carrie on the other end. My brain buzzes with possibilities—none of them good. Thirteen missed calls last night and now this? I’ve zoned out, stewing in awful thoughts, until his deep voice, still thick wit
h sleep, mutters a string of curses.
“I’m so sorry. I was half asleep and I didn’t realize who it was.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it was nothing.”
I wait for him to say more, but like this morning, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. He pulls me into his arms with a heavy sigh, and neither of us speaks again.
I don’t sleep well the rest of the night. When it’s finally light outside, I creep from the bed and get dressed, then request an Uber.
“You’re leaving?” He sits up and runs a hand through his bed head.
“Yeah. I have practice this morning.”
He glances at the window to the early morning sky and then raises a brow.
Pulling on my shirt, I kneel on the end of the bed.
“I didn’t sleep,” I admit. “What’s going on with the phone calls?”
He sits up. “It’s my ex, Carrie. She won’t stop calling.”
I have a thousand questions. “Why? What does she want?”
“I’m not even sure anymore. It’s been almost a month since we broke up and she’s blowing up my phone at the most inopportune times.”
“Oh.” I don’t know why I assumed he’d been single longer, but knowing he was with someone just a month ago—someone who cares so much for him she still calls in the middle of the night—makes me uneasy.
“It’s over,” he says. “And I’m sorry that I answered. I wasn’t thinking.” His arms circle my waist. “Don’t leave.”
“I really do need to practice.”
He bobs his head slowly. “Okay. Hang later?”
I hesitate. “I’ll text you.”
17
Rhett
“Look who it is!” Adam smirks from the kitchen when I finally get out of bed. Sienna had to leave for practice, but I went back to bed after she left to catch up on the sleep I didn’t get last night.
I grab a Powerade from the fridge and fall onto a stool at the counter.
“Heard you had a good time last night.”
“I did.” I take a long drink. “Wait, who did you hear that from?”
“You. I literally heard it. We all did.” He waves the spoon in his hand around and points to a giant box of condoms I somehow didn’t see when I sat down. “Mav dropped that off for you.”
Fucking nosy roommates. I shake my head and chuckle as I pick up the box of glow-in-the-dark condoms.
“Does Mav just have these in bulk or what? Never mind, I don’t want to know. Not sure I’m going to need them, though.” I run a hand through my hair, pushing the long strands out of my face.
“What happened?”
“Carrie,” I grumble. “She called a dozen times last night.” Nothing ruins the moment quite like your ex obsessively blowing up your phone at three o’clock in the morning.
“Chick is relentless.”
“No kidding. I don’t know what to do. Talking didn’t work. Ignoring obviously isn’t working either. Sienna took off as soon as it was daylight.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry. Still no to the blocking her number?”
“That just feels… wrong.”
“You could always change your number.” He smirks and goes back to stirring his oatmeal.
“Yeah, maybe.” I stand, taking the Powerade and condoms to my room.
We have the day off practice, but a meeting with Coach to talk about our next game. We play the Ice Bombers at regionals. Another do-or-die game.
Saturday night when we get back to the apartment and Sienna still hasn’t texted, I know she’s avoiding me.
Fuck. How did things with Carrie get so out of control? We’ve talked so many times about the breakup, hashing it out again seems pointless.
I call Carrie and while I wait for her to answer, I pace my room. Part of me hopes she doesn’t answer, but if she doesn’t then I’m just delaying the conversation. Something has to give. I can’t keep going like this. I want to move on. I want her to move on.
“Rhett!” She answers after the third ring with a chipper tone that I didn’t hear a lot of the last few months we were together.
“Hey, Carrie. You have a few minutes to talk?”
“I answered the phone, didn’t I?” She laughs softly. “Congrats on your game! I’m sorry I called so late. I went out with some friends and didn’t realize what time it was when we got in.”
“It isn’t just that you called so late.” I screw my eyes closed. “You can’t keep calling.”
She’s quiet and I feel like an asshole.
“We broke up,” I add. “This isn’t healthy for either of us.”
“I miss you.” Her voice softens. “Don’t you miss me?”
I miss the routine of it sometimes, but do I miss her? No, at least not the same way she misses me. It brings me no pleasure to be the one shutting her down.
“We can’t keep doing this. We agreed that it was best to give each other space.”
“Well, I don’t agree anymore. I want to talk to you and tell you about my day. You were my best friend.” She’s crying and fuck, that guts me. “I think we should get back together.”
“You don’t mean that. You were miserable. We both were.”
“Things were busy. I got overwhelmed. I took you for granted. I won’t do that again.”
“Carrie, I’m always going to care about you, but that isn’t what I want. I don’t think it’s really what you want either.”
She sniffles.
“Neither of us can move on if we’re holding on to the past.”
“I know.”
I sit on my bed and hang my head. “Are we good?”
“I will try to call less, but I’m not giving up on us.”
I let out an exasperated sigh away from the phone. We talk a few minutes longer and I get off the phone not feeling any better about the situation than I did when I called her, but at least I’ve said what I needed to.
* * *
I give Sienna the rest of Saturday but she doesn’t text. First thing Sunday morning, I head to the rink. If I know Sienna, she is already here even though their practice isn’t for a few hours. I’m not the least bit surprised when I spot her, skating around the ice looking graceful and strong. I change into my skates and then hang off to the side, watching her as she runs through her program.
Chin held high, cheeks red from the chill of the ice, resolve and confidence radiates from her. She’s stunning. This can’t be over.
I step onto the ice as she’s coming around. She slows and stops in front of me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, smiling, chest rising and falling as she catches her breath. She glances down at her watch, something I’ve noticed she does a lot to check her heart rate.
I shrug a shoulder. “Might have missed you.”
“In the twenty-four hours since I saw you last?”
“Absolutely.”
She laughs lightly and skates over to grab her water.
“I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Rhett, I’m not mad at you. I get it.”
“But you ran off at the ass crack of dawn with some vague bullshit about texting me later. Then you didn’t. You don’t want to keep hanging out?”
“I like you. I’ve had so much fun this past week, but I don’t think I’m capable of being a rebound.”
I push off and go to her. “You’re not a rebound. Carrie and I are over. We’ve been over. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the way I do right now.”
“Which is?” She smirks. She’s fishing, but that’s fine. About to get yourself a whale, girl.
“I like you.” I tip her chin up with a hand and lean in, lower my voice. “A lot.”
She lets me brush my mouth over hers, but then she shoves off from my chest skating backward. “Prove it.”
I arch a brow up and follow her to the center of the ice. “Here?”
“Yep. I’ll skate you for it.”
“How exactly is that going to pro
ve I like you?”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared?”
Is she serious? “Maybe you weren’t paying attention at the game the other night, but I’m pretty fast.”
“Oh, I was paying attention.” She runs a hand up my chest seductively and then circles around me. “You in?”
“Absolutely, angel.” Few things I wouldn’t agree to right now.
We go to the goal line and I yawn, egging her on. In reality, blood is pumping through my veins. I love competing and if it means winning more time with her? Sign me up.
“Are you sure you don’t want to warm up?”
“I’ll be fine.” I roll my head side to side and lean forward slightly. “Say when, angel.”
She huffs a laugh, adjusts her headband and focuses forward. “When.”
I let her push off first. I have no intention of letting her beat me, but she’s a damn sight as she speeds off from me. She glances over her shoulder, brown ponytail blowing around her face, to see why I haven’t moved yet. That’s my cue.
She’s fast, but I’m faster. I reach her in a flash, then slow down so we’re skating side by side. Her tongue peeks out and she pumps her arms faster. I pull ahead as we reach the goal line at the opposite end and stop, ice spraying from my skates.
“Again,” she says before she’s even stopped.
“You think that was beginners’ luck?”
“Backward this time.” She turns, arches a brow, silently daring me.
“I have a better idea.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“I’m listening.” She stands tall. Goddamn, she’s beautiful all determined and competitive.
“I’ll skate your routine.”
She laughs. When I don’t join her, she says, “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
“You don’t know my routine.”
“If you’re so sure of that, then it should be an easy bet for you to take.”
She cocks her head to the side and narrows her gaze.
“If I can skate your entire short program, then you have to give us a real chance. Deal?”
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