#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8)

by Cambria Hebert

  Anything for Rim.

  By the time B and I arrived at the hotel, I was pretty fucking spent. Done with the press, the game, the people. I just wanted my wife and a quiet room.

  B and I were on the same floor. Ivy and Nova were waiting for him, so the second we stepped off the elevator, we pounded it out and separated.

  “Tell my sis I think she’s a badass,” B called over his shoulder as I moved on down the hall.

  I laughed.

  She was sitting in the center of the bed when I walked in. She glanced up, a red licorice twist falling from her lips. Behind her black-rimmed glasses, her brown eyes went wide, and she tugged on the neck of the T-shirt she wore because it exposed more than it covered.

  I dropped my duffle at my feet and leaned against the door, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Her hair was down in a waterfall of dark silk. It looked like she brushed it out about a thousand times, which was a thousand more than she usually did. She was nervous, likely fidgety in that clumsy way of hers, probably wondering just what I’d say when I stepped into this room.

  I was hot all over, flushed from toe to head. My body was lethargic from the physical demands the hours of football had extracted. I didn’t feel tired, just lethargic. Heavy.

  My veins were thick with desire, need almost overwhelming.

  Almost. Not quite.

  Rimmel sensed my mood, the prowess with which I watched her from my steadfast position against the door. The room hummed with silence, with singular energy.

  Her stillness was overcome by the aforementioned restlessness, and I watched with sharp attention as she wiped her palms over the caps of her bent, bare knees. Beneath the thick fabric of the T-shirt she stole from my bag, her chest rose and fell with uneven movement, and I knew with certainty the rhythm of her heart was madly irregular.

  She was small in the center of the king-size bed, but her presence was anything but. She filled this room like she filled my chest. Absolutely. Undeniably.

  She adjusted the falling shirt again. Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she watched, waiting for whatever it was she thought I would say.

  “Take off your shirt,” I rasped. The tone of my voice made it sound like I had a three-pack-a-day habit and I inhaled every single time.

  Her stare flew to mine, surprise flickering behind the glasses.

  “Lose the glasses, too.”

  Not one word slipped between the fullness of her lips, but she moved to do my bidding. The glasses went first, slid away carefully. A long stretch of bare skin was bared when she leaned over to place them on the bedside.

  I didn’t move.

  I stood and stared.

  Rimmel returned to her Indian-style sitting position, and her small hand delved between her legs to disappear. My breathing quickened at the sight. One second passed before she pulled it back up, bringing with it the hem of the shirt.

  The fabric peeled away, revealing patches of pale, creamy skin as she moved. Once it was gone, she rose onto her knees in the center of the blankets and held out the material, releasing it to fall on the floor.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Her small, perky breasts were on total display, which caused my mouth to water. I knew exactly how she tasted. Exactly how she felt.

  All she wore were white cotton panties with large cutouts on each side, which exposed even more of her slim body. Her stomach dipped in slightly on each side, just above the soft flare of her hips. There was a space between her thighs, a place that didn’t touch… It was a place where I belonged, as if her body were built with me in mind, predesigned for this.

  I stared at her a long time, not saying anything, and she let me look. The trance she put me under was broken when she picked up something off the bed and brought it to her lips.

  Blood drained from my head and into my jeans when the long, red twist slid between her parted lips, her tongue licked across the candy, and her teeth sank in to take a bite.

  I shoved off the door, my stride only halted when my thighs came against the side of the mattress. Rimmel smiled, a slight naughty curve to her kissable lips, and held the candy up to mine.

  I let her push the licorice between my teeth, and sweetness hit my tongue. It was good, but she was better.

  With a wicked smile and glint in my eye, I bit into the soft, chewy snack. I watched her as I chewed, then snatched the rest of the licorice away and ever so lightly trailed the end across her collarbone and down to the fullness of her breast.

  Her nipple tightened, puckering with anticipation, and there was a catch in her breath.

  The candy disappeared over my shoulder, hitting the carpet with a soft thud, but I didn’t hear. My body surged forward. I caught her around the waist and tumbled with her onto the mattress.

  She was warm and supple under me. Our eyes met. I looked at her for the millionth time and couldn’t wait to see her a million more.

  Her lips parted, and I knew she was about to whisper my name, but she didn’t have to utter a sound. I already heard; deep inside, our hearts already whispered.

  The distance between us condensed to none. My lips overtook hers as we sank into one another. I explored every inch of her with my fingertips and tongue. The feel of her body straining against mine under the weight of the seduction I laid heavily across her skin made my own hum.

  I lifted my head from her breast, glanced down into her dazed expression, and smiled. Her hands clutched me closer, then tugged at the fabric that still covered my body. I’d practically made love to her, and I was still fully clothed. I’d explored every single inch of her. Between her legs was already dripping with silk. The skin across her chest was flushed.

  Slowly, I licked down her body, pulling away an inch at a time. When our skin no longer touched, my pace quickened. Swiftly, I shed my clothes, abandoning them where they lay. Rimmel watched me with heavy eyes, swollen lips, and need dripping from her very pores.

  I didn’t ask the question. It just didn’t matter right now… I thought maybe it wouldn’t matter ever again.

  The condom I rolled over my rock-hard cock wasn’t the barrier I’d originally thought. It was the words, the thoughts… the unspoken wall we’d unintentionally placed between us.

  I lay on the bed and reached for her. Rim straddled my body, and I reveled in the way she looked above me.

  Her body accepted mine the way I knew it would. Rimmel was an extension of me now. Where I ended, she began. Her soft sighs were my biggest triumph, and even though she rode me, I still moved against her.

  The curtain of her hair fell behind her shoulders when her chin tipped back, the creamy skin of her neck exposed. I caressed it, trailing down over her chest to cup the breasts on full display. Her hips bore down, and soon, both of us were panting.

  Rimmel bent forward, collapsing against my chest, so I wrapped her tight in my arms. Her nose pressed against my neck, and I surged into her, claiming her release.

  Hers wasn’t even over before mine began, so we climaxed together, clinging to each other in the center of the bed as if we were each other’s gravity.

  I don’t know how much later it was when I grasped her head and lifted it so I could look into her face. “I really fucking love you.”

  “I really fucking love you.”

  I really loved when she said fuck. It was the dirtiest word coming out of the most innocent lips.

  My tongue dipped into her mouth for one final taste before I had to gently lift her off my body and slip out of the bed. Once I was cleaned up, I stepped back into the bedroom, not bothering to rummage for clothes.

  Rimmel was lying in bed, eating another licorice twist. I laughed. “Where the hell are you getting those things?”

  She scowled. “You threw one on the floor.”

  “I’ll buy you another bag, baby.” I chuckled and slid in beside her. There was a whole pack of the stuff right there, halfway under the pillow.

  I snagged one and took a bite. “Reese Cups are b
etter.”

  Without a word, her hand disappeared beneath her pillow and pulled out a king-size pack of my favorite candy.

  I lifted an eyebrow, and she stole my red twist and stuck it between her lips, where it hung out like a long, red cigarette, and put the chocolate in my hand instead.

  I ripped open the end with my teeth, unwrapped the first chocolate cup, and shoved the entire thing into my mouth. I made a sound of appreciation as the milk chocolate and peanut butter melted in my mouth and exploded across my tongue.

  “I definitely didn’t expect that kind of greeting,” Rimmel said, giving me a sidelong glance.

  “What can I say? Seeing you ‘roid out on them bitches in the stands made me hot.”

  She made a choking sound. I glanced up mildly as I shoved another entire cup in my mouth.

  “‘Roid out!” she exclaimed. “I did no such thing.”

  I grinned, showing off all the lumps of chocolate and peanut butter in my teeth.

  She rolled her eyes and smacked my chest. “You’re disgusting.”

  “Here I thought all those people at the stadium were cheering for my epic throw. Come to find out my girl fight was getting all the love.”

  “It wasn’t a girl fight either,” she muttered, taking another chomp on the candy. Her head tilted, causing her glossy hair to slide over her shoulder. “Fine. Maybe it was a little.”

  “You saw all the press coverage, huh?” I asked, dropping my voice and taking on a more serious tone. I loved teasing my girl, but this wasn’t all a joke.

  She snorted. It was still just as adorable today as it was the first time she did it. “Are you kidding? The sports announcers were talking about it. The freaking announcers!”

  I propped myself against the headboard, using a pillow as a cushion, and draped the sheet over my lower body. “Yeah, I saw some of the shit being reported.”

  She scowled. “Did you know there’s a list of women who have volunteered to have your baby?”

  I shrugged, pointing to myself. “They want a piece of this.”

  Rimmel dropped the candy onto her lap and stared at me, astounded. “You knew!”

  “I do spend a lot of time in a locker room with a bunch of dirt bags, baby,” I countered.

  “You said nothing.” Her lips thinned.

  Oh shit, she was not amused. I wasn’t going to charm my way out of this one.

  “How would you feel if there was a list of men who were offering to get me pregnant?” She sniffed, crossing her arms over her bare chest.

  A low grumble filled the room. My chest vibrated from the sheer force of it. “I think you know,” I intoned.

  I’d kill.

  I’d sit in jail for the rest of my life.

  “Well, not only did you not tell me about this list, but I had to hear about it during a national televised game, in a room with your parents.”

  I’m sure my parents already knew about the list, but I didn’t bother pointing that out. That definitely would have made things worse.

  I opened my mouth, but she stuck her finger between us.

  Dayum… Smalls was sassy tonight.

  “Not to mention I got to look down in the stands to see an entire row of glow-in-the-dark bobbleheads holding signs, offering their services.”

  Glow-in-the-dark bobbleheads? Original.

  I laughed.

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Those women were so bleached out I’m shocked they even had hair left. It was probably all extensions.”

  “I’m not interested in anyone but you, baby,” I told her, trying to hold on to my shit. If she said one more adorably cute thing in anger, I was going to piss myself from laughter.

  “Don’t you placate me, Roman Anderson.”

  The hotel landline rang, saving me. I dove to the side and picked it up. “Roman Anderson,” I said briskly.

  It was the hotel staff. “Mr. Anderson, this is the restaurant downstairs. We were getting ready to close up tonight and noticed you haven’t ordered your usual room service. Would you like us to put that order in?”

  There was one perk of staying at the same hotel for every home game. The staff here knew me very well.

  I made a sound of appreciation. “Actually, that would be great. Running a little behind tonight and forgot to call.”

  I felt Rimmel staring at my back and glanced around. “Could I add a slice of that chocolate cake you guys make and some coffee to that usual order?”

  I heard once that if your lady was in a mood, the best course of action was to throw chocolate at her and back away. I wasn’t backing away from Rimmel. I’d rather take the heat of her anger and be at her side. But chocolate might be a good idea.

  “Of course,” the man on the line replied smoothly. “We’ll have that right up, Mr. Anderson. And congratulations on your win this evening.”

  “Thank you,” I said, then hung up the phone. “I got you some cake,” I told Rim.

  She sighed wearily. “I’m sorry about what I did. That definitely wasn’t the time or place. And I only made the press more rabid and embarrassed us both.”

  I grabbed her around the waist and lifted, placing her in my lap so she was facing me. I noted the goose bumps along her upper arms, so I tugged the sheet out from under us and pulled it up around her back. Her hands grasped the sides and tugged it closer, holding it there.

  “You did not embarrass me. I don’t think you ever could.”

  Round, brown eyes with flecks of gold fell on mine. “I marched into the stands, knowing the press would follow, and literally confronted those ho-bags. I didn’t do a very good job either. I fell into one of their laps!”

  I chuckled. “A couple things… Those ho-bags had it coming.” I lifted a finger as I listed things. “And maybe I should show you a few moves to make you a little less… clumsy and a little more effective.”

  She muttered, “I’d probably kill myself, and we both know it.”

  “There will be no dying,” I said, allegedly in jest, but there was an underlying note of steel in my voice. I didn’t let myself think about why.

  “What about the press?” she asked.

  “What about them?” I scoffed. “They can’t get any more zealous then they already are.”

  She worried her lower lip. I used my thumb to stop her and smoothed out the soft flesh.

  “A list, Romeo,” she said again.

  “Baby, stop worrying about some stupid list. How many lists do you make every single day, and how many do you walk out of the house or shelter without, making them useless anyway?”

  She giggled.

  That’s because the answer was all of them. Rim and her lists. She made them, but she never actually looked at them.

  “This is a list of women who want to have my husband’s baby.” Her voice caught. The underlying pain she’d lived with since Evie was evident.

  “That’s right. Your husband. I belong to you, Rim. Always. I don’t want anyone but you. I haven’t since the day you spilled pencils everywhere, in your lesbian sweater, and gave me a list of rules.”

  A laugh bubbled up in her, but it didn’t quite make it out.

  It killed me to see her like this. I felt the storm raging inside her. I understood now that today pushed her past her limits; her breaking point was exceeded. I had no idea how to reassure her. I didn’t know how to downplay what the press was saying. The fact was it sucked. There wasn’t much I could do about stupid lists and bitches with signs (except tear those signs in half).

  I glanced at the top of her head, which was right in my line of sight because her chin was dipped, lying against her chest.

  “What if I can’t?” she whispered.

  “What if you can’t what, sweetheart?” I murmured, brushing away some of the hair concealing her face.

  Her breath hitched. My chest clenched.

  “What if I can’t give you a baby? What if Evie was our only chance?”

  An audible click echoed through me. That one sound
held a lot of answers.

  It also let me know I was an idiot.

  No clue… I had no idea she felt this way. As if the guilt I knew wasn’t enough already, it doubled.

  “Rimmel.” Her name sounded more like a sigh, a slight admonishment. It brought her eyes up to mine. They were watery, tormented, and her chin wobbled.

  Shit. Carefully, I hooked an arm around her, pulling her close. She collapsed against my chest, and a deep sob broke free. I’d only heard that kind of sound from her once before. The night she lost our daughter.

  That sound haunted me, rattled around inside me with all the other ghosts of that night… In many ways, I’d become a haunted house. I became fearful of that sound and if I’d ever hear it again.

  Her tears were wet against my chest. I felt them slide over my pec and disappear somewhere between us.

  I was an alpha. Always in control, always the solid one everyone looked to for answers. I fixed shit. That’s who I was.

  I didn’t know how to fix this.

  How had I missed that my wife was still so deeply in pain? How had I not known she was terrified of never holding a baby in her arms?

  I tucked her closer, tightening my grip, because at the moment, the least I could offer was my strength. God knows I wasn’t sure what else I could.

  She snuggled closer, and in a tortured, tear-disrupted voice, she spoke. “It took me months and months to get pregnant. Longer than most women my age. I started to even doubt I could, but then Evie…”

  She cried again, her words interrupted by the agony in her heart erupting and flowing out like hot lava from an active volcano.

  “I was so happy. We were so happy. And then I lost her… I wasn’t strong enough to carry her. My body didn’t protect her. I didn’t protect her like I should have. Now she’s gone… and I’m scared, Romeo.” She pulled her head up, looking at me with red eyes. “What if I can’t get pregnant again? What if I do and I lose the baby again? What if giving you children is just something my body can’t do?”

  She sniffled and rubbed at her face, wiping away the worst of the tears. Little gasping sounds shook her as she tried to rein in the emotion taking over her body.