by Rhonda James
"Baby, no." He folds me in his arms as he rocks me back and forth under the spray. "I'm not dumping you. How can you even think that? From the moment we met, you've consumed me." His voice softens as he cups my face in his strong hands.
"Because I miss you, B. Because I need you." My voice breaks as the words get stuck in my throat. "And I thought..." I look down and see my hands are shaking. I'm in a steamy room, with hot water beating down on me, yet I can't stop shivering.
"Believe me when I tell you, there's no one else on this earth worth thinking about. I'm just dealing with shit only I can fix." He lowers his face to mine before continuing. "I told you, I'm messed up. There are things happening between us, and I just wasn't prepared for it. I'm trying to figure out what it all means." His thumb traces the curve of my lip as he studies my expression. "Now, what else were you going to say?"
"What do you mean?" I blink up at him in confusion.
"You said you thought something. What was it?" his lips brush mine in a tender kiss as he waits for my answer.
"I was going to say that I thought you needed me too." It's a good thing he's close, because I've whispered the words so softly even I barely hear them.
His body sags against mine. "That's the problem, Dimples. I'm scared I may need you too much."
No other words are spoken. Instead, we close our eyes and kiss until we forget about everything else. We kiss the way we did the first time we met.
Before rules and promises were broken.
Before lies were told.
Back when things were simple.
Back when we were just friends.
Back when we were still us.
And it was perfect. Except for one small problem.
When I open my eyes, I'm still in love with him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
BRANTLEY
"There's no denying their lines are strong this year," Jordan announces as the waitress places our drinks on the table. "I've watched the footage of their last four games, and McFarland scored three goals in one game alone, not to mention the goals and assists he racked up in the other three games."
I look around the table and realize how much I've missed these guys. It's been a long time since the four of us stopped for a beer after practice. After talking about Scott's love life and teasing Jordan over his lack of one, the topic has naturally switched to hockey. More specifically, the game scheduled against Minnesota after we return from Christmas break.
"Yeah, we're going to have to tighten up that second line if we want any chance of taking away a win. Let's talk with Coach about getting in some extra ice time before we take off this week. Cage, why don't you see if Taylor's willing to push the D-men harder in practice?" Rivers tosses out sarcastically. There's no denying our last two losses were because we've been weak in the defensive zone. I'm not solely responsible for our poor performance on the ice, but when you tack on the fact I'm sleeping with his sister, it only adds to the guilt I'm already carrying.
"Let's not forget their goalie is a strong contender for the Richter Award. His stats are pretty stellar, so if we want any hope of scoring, we'll have to attack hard," Davis reminds us.
"Spiker may be good, but Rivers has been solid in the crease this season. He's averaged twenty-eight saves per game, and he's also a contender. If you ask me, I think he'll be the one to take it." I tip my beer in Scott's direction. He offers a nod of thanks, but doesn't let the praise go to his head. Like the rest of us, he's played the game long enough to know anything can happen, and if you're not careful, the direction your career was taking can suddenly veer off path and it would all end in the blink of an eye.
"Hey, what time are you guys heading out tomorrow?" I ask casually. Jordan scored tickets for the Kid Rock concert tomorrow night in Cincinnati. Ashley is also going, which comes as no surprise, but it works in their favor because her family lives in Cincinnati and they plan on getting hammered and spending the night at their house.
"Charger's pulling out at three, and there's room for your sexy ass if you've changed your mind," Rivers replies, making sure to toss in a cheeky wink at the end.
While a part of me would love to go along for the ride, I'd already told them I couldn't because I had to work at the restaurant. But that's a lie. I don't have to work. Cassie's coming over to watch a movie and celebrate Christmas before we both head back home for break.
When we left Chicago, I'd known things between us had shifted. It spooked me, because I'm not sure either of us is ready to admit our true feelings. Cassie's not ready for Scott to find out about us. And honestly, neither am I. The guilt I've been carrying is a heavy burden, but it doesn't change the way I feel about her. I'm not going to lie, the last few weeks have been rough, but we're both trying to work through it. Cassie says she wants to get through Christmas and then come clean about our relationship.
Cause that's what this is...
A relationship.
I'm still not sure how it happened. Me letting her in. I've been running from love for so long, I figured if I kept wasting time with girls who were forgettable, it would never catch up with me. So, I've spent the last four years using casual sex as a shield, secretly believing it would protect my heart from further damage.
And then I met her...
Cassie isn't like all the other girls. And there's nothing forgettable about her.
She came into my life like a sudden downpour. Showering me with love and hope when I'd least expected it. But exactly when I'd needed her the most.
Tonight, she's hanging out with her roommate and some guy named Mitch from her music class. They've been working on a project together these last few weeks, and claimed they needed a break from the monotony of the rehearsal room.
"Thanks, but I have to work at four. I'll be there till closing. But have a good time and try to stay out of trouble." I'm looking at Davis when I say this, because he always seems to get himself in a bind whenever we're out. I blame it on his charming good looks, but Rivers says it's because he runs his mouth too much.
"Hey, you can't have fun without finding a little trouble. The two go hand-in-hand. Ain't that right, Cage?" Davis retorts. I look over and scowl and that fucker has the nerve to wink at me!
Cocky son of a bitch.
"God, would somebody please kill me so I don't have to endure another Kelly Clarkson wannabe," Rivers beats his forehead on the table. We all look toward the stage, where a blond is doing her best to keep up with the lyrics on the screen, but she still sounds like a dying hyena. "How the hell did we forget it was karaoke night?"
"Aw, come on, it's not so bad. That chick who sang Katy Perry was smokin' hot," Davis smiles wickedly. "She even gave me her phone number."
"Why am I not surprised?" I say, rolling my eyes.
"Yeah, what can I say? Chicks just seem to throw themselves at me," he deadpans. We're all laughing at his remark when he leans over and smacks me with the back of his hand as he points in the direction of the stage. "Hey, Scott, isn't that Cassie?"
Rivers turns around and when he sees her he does a double take. "Huh, I guess it is. I didn't know she hung out here." He gives his shoulder a quick shrug. "But I'm not surprised she's up on that stage."
"Why's that?" Jordan asks.
"Because she has an amazing voice," I answer quietly. Scott scowls as if he may be about to say something, but he lets it go. My gaze shifts to the stage, where she's holding a microphone and waiting for her opening note. The music starts up, and it's a techno-synthesizer beat I've become very familiar with over the past few months, because she's made me listen to it on more than one occasion.
She begins the song standing in place, but once she reaches the chorus, she starts strutting across the stage, singing about love being insanity and clarity all at the same time. Gone is the shy girl I walked home after finding her crying in a bathroom. In her place is a woman who dropped to her knees and owned me in her neighbors' bathroom. The same woman who'd moaned shamelessly while I broug
ht her to climax with my fingers and a cheap latex toy.
The woman on stage exudes raw sexuality, and my dick has definitely taken notice.
But that's not the only part of me that notices.
I know everything about her. Every freckle on her nose. The sparkle that gleams in her left eye just before she comes. Every sigh of contentment. And the dimple that pops just after we've kissed. I could go on and on.
The crowd loves her. They love it when she raises her fist to punctuate certain words. And they scream like crazy every time she hits an unbelievably high note. She steps into the crowd, weaving her way through tables while continuing the song. A few guys at a table near the front reach out and snack her on the ass, and I push myself out of my chair.
"Easy, Casanova," Davis holds me back with a strong grip on my forearm. I sit back down and rub my hand over the back of my neck in frustration.
"Holy shit, Rivers. Your sister is fucking awesome!" Jordan stares up at the stage with his mouth hanging open.
"She is pretty amazing, isn't she?" he says in wonder.
When the song is over, the crowd goes bat-shit crazy and demands an encore. My heart swells with pride, because I've been telling her all along she's going to be a star. It doesn't take long for the next song to start, and it's a slow one. I also know this song. It's "Holding Out for a Hero" by Elise Lieberth. She had me listen to it on the train ride home, and after it was through playing, she said the song reminded her of me.
Even though I've heard her sing many times, I'm still mesmerized by her performance. The whole place goes quiet as she sings, and when she asks if there's a Superman to sweep her off her feet, I could swear our eyes lock.
Davis places a hand on my shoulder and leans forward, speaking in a low tone. "I realize you're having a moment right now, but I advise you to wipe that look off your face before he figures out you're in love with her." My eyes dart to his, and he merely raises his brow in response. "Just thought you should know."
Love?
Me?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BRANTLEY
"Are you sure you want to wait until after dinner to exchange gifts?" She calls to me from the living room.
I come down the stairs and find her on her knees under the tree, trying to find the perfect spot for my present. When she turns her head, I'm right behind her, and her eyes travel the length of my frame before meeting my gaze. I can't resist chuckling at her persistence before crouching down beside her. I skim my finger along her cheek before tapping the end of her button nose.
"Positive." I slide my hand around the back of her head and give a gentle tug until our lips are millimeters apart. "I think someone needs to learn some patience." Our lips meet for three quick kisses before I stand and take her by the hand. "Come on, time for that movie."
The movie is half over and we've spent most of it making out. So far, we've stuck to kissing and fondling with our clothes on. It's actually really nice, and I can't remember the last time I've had this much fun with my clothes on. Every time her hands go to unbutton my jeans, I just lift her arm and place it back around my neck. I look at it as building the anticipation, but it's driving Cassie out of her ever-loving mind.
"You're no fun." She sticks out her bottom lip and pouts.
I stop kissing her neck and narrow my eyes. "Did you just call me boring?"
She doesn't say anything, just looks at me and nods once. In one fluid motion, I stand and throw her over my shoulder. As I march toward the front door, she's giggling and slapping at my ass. The cold air hits immediately, and when she realizes where I'm going, her giggles turn into pleading.
"Brantley, no! Don't you dare." I keep walking until we reach the pile of snow to the right of the sidewalk and carefully toss her in the slushy mound. "Are you crazy? I'm not dressed for this!" She rises to a sitting position and places her hands on her hips. I'm laughing so hard I fail to see her hands reaching up to yank me down beside her. Now we're both cold and wet, so I do the only logical thing that comes to mind. I make a sloppy snow angel. A moment later, she makes one too and when I turn to her, still laughing, I find her staring at me with something more than laughter in her eyes.
"B, I lo—" I lean over and cover her mouth with mine, effectively cutting her off.
I know what she was about to say, and I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it. Right now, we're living in the fantasy world we've created, and everything feels so good here. I'm afraid if we say the words, we're opening ourselves up to a reality that's sure to destroy us.
I kiss her deeply, hoping my lips are able to convey what I'm feeling inside.
"Brantley," she says through chattering teeth, "I'm turning into a popsicle. Can we maybe take this back inside?"
"Oh, shit, baby, I'm sorry," I scoop her up and dash back inside where it's nice and warm. We're both a soaking wet mess, so I take her upstairs to my room. "Why don't you take a shower to warm up while I go downstairs and start dinner. Is breakfast okay?"
"It's perfect, just like you," she whispers, lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss me again. "There's only one teeny problem. I don't have anything dry to put on." She lifts her wet shirt over her head and tosses it on the bathroom floor, and I'm momentarily distracted by how great her tits look in the lacy, red bra she's wearing.
"No worries, just grab anything of mine." I give her nipple a tease with my thumb before turning to start dinner. "See you in a few minutes."
"Tease." She throws me a wink before adding her bra to the pile. "Make me extra sausage."
"You never eat your sausage," I remind her.
"I know, but you do." I can't stop smiling as I make my way down the stairs.
My back is turned when she enters the room. The pancake batter is ready to go, and I have sausage and bacon finishing up on the stove.
"There's orange juice on the counter, and I've already popped the cork on the champagne if you'd like a mimosa," I call over my shoulder as I take the meat out of the pan. "I thought we could pretend like it's Christmas morning and—" I turn around and forget everything I was about to say.
She's standing in my kitchen, dressed in nothing but my old practice jersey and a pair of blue-stripped tube socks. She's so small it hangs past her knees, and the collar falls off one shoulder. Her blond hair hangs down in loose curls and her face has been scrubbed clean.
In all my life, I've never seen a more beautiful sight.
"Is everything okay? I hope you don't mind me wearing this," she looks down and tugs nervously at the jersey as I fight to swallow the lump in my throat. "I just figured it's so long it takes away the need for pants. If it bothers—" She stops talking when I cut her off for the second time tonight.
My left hand threads through her hair as our lips crash together. Her mouth is warm, just like her skin, and when my tongue slides inside, she whimpers. My fingers trail down her leg to find the hem of my shirt, and when I reach the apex of her thighs, I'm met with her bare pussy.
"No panties?" I smile devilishly.
"I figured it was redundant." Her shoulder lifts an inch. "You'd probably end up tearing them off."
"I like the way you think."
Keeping my hand between her legs, I lift her up and place her on the kitchen table. Stepping into the empty space between her legs, I tease my tongue over her lips before trailing it down the hollow of her throat.
Her soft whimpers encourage me as I lower one side of the jersey's collar to expose her naked breast. My lips cover the taut peak, and I swirl my tongue in slow circles until she squirms beneath me. Moving to the other nipple, I repeat the seduction while she rubs herself over my knuckle until her soft purrs turn into moans.
I release her nipple with a loud pop and lower myself into the chair positioned directly in front of her. Lifting her by the hips, my hands slide the jersey up to her waist. I could take it off, but seeing her in it has my dick harder than the fucking Hope diamond. My hands go to her knees, easing them apart ever so slowly until I'm reward
ed with the sight of her glistening folds.
"Mmmm," I say, leaning my head in for a taste.
"Uh, Brantley," she wiggles her hips and braces herself on her elbows, "what are you doing?"
I stop what I'm doing and tip my head back to meet her smirk with one of my own, "Eating, of course."
Taking her by the ankles, I drag her back to my mouth and dine until her soft cries tell me she's had enough.
"That mouth of yours should be registered as a lethal weapon." A contented smile fills her face as she reaches out for me to help her up.
"I take it you enjoyed that," I say with confidence, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Duh." She offers a throaty laugh and palms the aching bulge in my pants. "But what about you? Do you enjoy doing that?"
"Are you kidding?" I smile and drop my pants to the floor. "Best meal I've ever eaten."
"Yeah? Well, you haven't had dessert yet," she counters, curling her leg around mine to urge me closer. Lust fills her gorgeous, blue eyes, and all I can think about is covering her in sticky, sweet caramel and feasting until I fall into a sugar coma.
Her arms circle my waist, drawing me in so the tip of my arousal brushes against the tiny bundle of nerves. Her lips part and her eyes flutter closed as she eagerly tilts her pelvis to take me. With one hand in her hair and the other splayed across her lower back, I roll my hips and slowly guide the blunt head inside. Her inner muscles contract and pull, guiding me in at a luxuriously slow pace.
I love the way her body reacts to the intrusion. The shuddery gasp when I crest her opening. The hiss she sucks in as her muscles stretch to accommodate me. Followed by the long, contented sigh we both release when I'm all the way in.
"Sweet Jesus," I growl in her ear, "being inside you tops everything I've ever done."