by D. C. Ruins
His body slowed its movements, although his hips kept thrusting, shallowly, gently, as his seed drained from his body and into hers and he felt her walls twitch with the aftershocks of her climax. Her hands were stroking over his back and her eyes were shut tight.
"You good?" he managed, exhaustion and satisfaction like he'd never known before settling deep into his bones.
"I'm….so good," she whispered back, a soft smile curving her lips and watching it, Heath suddenly felt like he knew the secret of the Mona Lisa. He started to withdraw from her but her hands pressed against his back. "Don't…not yet."
He lowered his face to hers and slowly kissed her swollen lips, feeling her tongue slip forth to find his. They kissed slowly and deeply for several long moments until Heath actually felt the stirrings of arousal ghost through his lower belly again. After a moment, he withdrew from her and lay on his back, enjoying the feeling of the cool sheets against his hot skin. Drew rolled onto her side to face him and he turned his head toward hers, the hand closest to her reaching out to play in her hair.
Her eyes searched his face and her lips parted to speak, but as before, she couldn't seem to find words. Instead, she bit at her lower lip then smiled widely at him, her eyes lowering. He always got a kick out of the fact that she could never seem to meet his eyes after they were intimate but also couldn't keep the telltale smile off her face that let him know she was, undoubtedly and decidedly, satisfied.
He let a half-smile tug at one corner of his mouth before he reached out to take her chin between his fingers and brought his mouth to hers.
"Come here," he murmured and rolled her onto her other side so she was facing away from him. He arranged the sheet around her and then pulled her tight against his chest. He dropped his lips onto the side of her neck as she sighed contentedly and snuggled into his embrace. He stroked whatever skin of hers he could touch as he listened to her breathing. It slowly deepened and then evened out, and he felt her body go limp against him, and he knew she was asleep.
He wedged a leg in between hers to pull her closer still and buried his mouth and nose in her hair, closing his eyes and letting his body relax fully for the first time in as long as he could remember.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Drew slid out of bed, trying her best not to disturb Heath as she scooted over the expanse of mattress and sheets. She stopped when Heath's hand suddenly tightened around her waist; she should have known better. There wasn't any sneaking around someone who had trained for years to be on high alert at all times.
"Drew," he mumbled. "What's going on? Where you goin'?"
"Just need to go to the bathroom," she whispered back, leaning over to peck his temple. "Be right back."
He grunted softly in reply and his hand relaxed, allowing her to slip away. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand as her bare feet hit the carpet, noting that it was just after four in the morning. She was naked, so she plucked his sweatshirt from the floor and wrapped it around herself, zipping it up, as she padded into the bathroom, the tile cold against the bottoms of her feet.
She shut the door and the silence in the room was too much to handle, so she flicked on the water for noise. She used the toilet, cleaning up the remnants of their night together as she did so before she flushed. She leaned against the counter and studied herself in the mirror.
The sensitive flesh between her legs throbbed dully with soreness, the muscles there not used to stretching or conforming around something the way they had a few hours before. It reminded her of the pain she'd felt days after her attack, a terrible pain that, even after it left her body physically, still ghosted through her for weeks, months, afterward. She fought back those memories as they tried to claw their way to the surface of her mind, trying to focus on her more recent experience that resulted in similar feelings but was actually pleasant. She thought of warm, gentle hands on her body, full, sweet lips against hers, and the waves of pleasure, beautiful, amazing pleasure, that coursed through her nonstop for the better part of an hour. She had climaxed three times, each one better than the last, and it had been because of him, the man sleeping in her bed right now. She thought about his mouth on her flesh, the magical things he'd done with his tongue, and the delicious feeling of being filled to the brim with him. His length and his thickness had filled her as no one had ever done before, moving inside her, tapping some sort of hidden well deep within her because she'd never known her body was capable of becoming that aroused, that excited at his touch, that consumed with pleasure. She felt a little smile tug at the corners of her lips, still a little swollen from their passion, as her flesh tingled and twitched. He might have just created a monster; a sensual, hungry, aching, insatiable little monster.
She let out a shaky, involuntary sigh and opened her eyes, surprised to see herself touching one hand to her lips while the other had fallen between her thighs. Her chocolate brown eyes were bright and her cheeks were suddenly flushed. She'd been afraid, for just a moment before sleep had claimed her when they were done, that she'd made a horrible mistake, that she'd wake up and hate herself, and worse, him, but hours later, in the darkness of the early morning…she smiled.
Perhaps her reasons for asking Heath to come to her room had not been completely without agenda. Yesterday had been a day from hell. Between the violence she'd suffered at the hands of the women at the gate to her terrible, horrible secret being revealed to everyone, her mental state had been fragile and damaged. Once she'd made it back to her hotel room, she'd literally hidden under the covers and sobbed uncontrollably, her body wracking as she had screamed her anger and anguish into the pillows. She wanted to call someone, her family; in fact she had reached for the phone, but she drew her hand back as reason sat coolly upon her. There was no need to alarm her parents and she knew that if she called them in this state with that news, it would only result in just that—panic. She wanted to call Bunz, but she felt that all she'd been doing lately was unburdening herself on her best friend. So, instead, she'd wrapped herself in the comforter and watched TV, silent and shaking and crying, until the Rileys had knocked on her door.
She had apologized for her behavior, for storming out, and begged for privacy. She could hardly look at Heath—he still wore the expression of rage she'd seen when he'd stormed out of the cage and charged at the commentator booth. The look terrified her, but now, in addition, he looked terribly concerned for her. Connor looked abashed, like he wanted to say something to comfort her but didn't know how. Lana looked shocked, and John just looked sad. Drew looked at each one of their faces, and it was too much.
They left her alone without any questions, and she'd gone back to bed.
She ordered room service for herself, paying with it with her own money because she didn't want anyone to feel burdened by her. She had lain in bed some more, had thought some more, had cried some more. She was beyond humiliated and ashamed, but now rage was beginning to stir in her gut as well. How had they found out about her—and who had told? Who could do something so heartless and cruel?
After a while, she'd begun to feel lonely, and there was only one person that could solve that. She genuinely craved physical contact with Heath, had hungered for it, in fact. She wanted to be intimate with him in the ways they were familiar with by now. It was only until he had been lying next to her on her bed that she'd felt a stronger desire for something more. She might have been playing at readiness the night before, but now she was sure—she wanted him that way; needed him that way. And now that she had allowed it, she was glad she did. He'd taken her mind completely off the awful situation, forcing her to concentrate only on him and their bodies and the way they were using their bodies to bring each other pleasure. Everything else had been blocked out of her mind during their time together—all she could focus on was him.
But now…her thoughts were coming back to the situation at hand. They pinched at her brain, made her stomach clench with stress. She'd promised Heath last night that she'd be there for him through
out the whole tournament, and she wanted to prove that to him. She wanted to prove that no matter what happened, she would always be there to support him the way he did her. But as the thought of what that would entail—walking back into an arena full of people after being labeled a rape and attempted murder victim—came over her, she instantly regretted her promise. She would go through with it—she had to—but she now wished she would have listened to him and agreed with him when he told her he thought it might be too much.
She thought back to the reporter that had tried to speak to her and Connor and Lana earlier that day—Marty Brown. He'd been slippery, slimy and altogether sneaky. Then there was Carter. Aside from noting the way he'd voluntarily left her behind in the crowd, she hadn't missed the look of shock and then cold anger on his face when Heath fired him. She still thought that was a spontaneous move on Heath's part, and one not well thought out—they owned the gym together. What would happen now?
She shuddered as a wave of negative emotion went over her. She couldn't help feeling responsible for this nasty turn of events. She knew that was silly, that she hadn't done anything directly, but if Heath had not gotten mixed up with her, none of this would ever have happened.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly turned the water off and went to open the door. Heath stood there, his sweatpants tugged on haphazardly, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice deep with sleep. "You been in here a while."
"I'm…okay," she replied, deciding it was the only word she could use. She was great as far as they went; but thinking about the situation surrounding it had dampened her mood considerably. But the sight of him, shirtless, in a pair of low-slung sweatpants and nothing else was distracting her and making her feel tingly again. She licked her lips.
"You feel…all right?" he asked, folding his arms. "You're not in any pain or anything?"
She smiled and reached out, unable to stop herself from touching his stomach. "Not, like, in a bad way."
He looked mystified, his eyes following the movement of her hand as it stroked along his skin. She didn't miss the slight jerking movement just under the fabric of his pants. "Is there a good way to be in pain?"
She looked up at him as she allowed her fingers to brush ever so lightly over the front of his sweatpants, confirming that he was swelled and ready for her the way she craved and was ready for his body again. She pushed him lightly backward out of the bathroom, turning off the light.
"There is definitely a way to be in pain in a good way," she whispered and reached up to unzip his sweatshirt from around her body, letting it fall to the floor around her feet as his tongue swept out over his lip, his eyes moving over her naked body. She gave him another light push and he sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands reaching for her hips and sliding up her sides. "Let me show you."
***
Connor left Lana, Heath, Drew and John eating a quiet breakfast on the patio of the hotel later that morning. He was glad to see that Drew seemed to be doing a lot better than yesterday. Things felt a bit awkward now that he, and every other fucking person inside that arena and/or who watched the ESPN or the news, knew just what she had been through. It made him furious; he was a father to two beautiful little girls and a husband to a beautiful, amazing wife, and had formerly been a teacher to a lot of really smart teenage girls who had unlimited potential in the world. The thought of something that hideous happening to any one of them made him feel sick to his stomach.
He felt a strange mixture of pity and pride for his baby brother. The Heath he used to know would never have devoted his time and effort to someone who had gone through what Drew had. That Heath would have gone running in the other direction. But now, here was his little brother, obviously smitten with the girl, being careful not to stifle or smother her, but standing silently behind her, ready to do whatever he needed in order to keep her safe and to help her heal. Yesterday's reveal had taken a toll on him as well, and Connor could not recall another time when he'd seen such fury on his brother's face. Even at their worst moments together, Heath had always possessed a kind of careful, controlled anger; Connor had never seen Heath fully lose his temper before. For a moment, he'd actually been scared of his younger brother. It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed combined with John's to prevent Heath from making a huge mistake.
But Connor knew there was much more to the situation than met the eye, and he wasn't about to let it slide. He'd done a little research on the hotel, asked a few questions, and now knew exactly where he was going. He headed to the bank of elevators and rode them to the fourth floor. He found the room he was looking for and listened intently. He heard shuffling noises from inside and glanced at his watch. It was exactly eleven in the morning—check-out time.
Carter Steele was nothing if not punctual.
Connor was leaning against the wall opposite the door when Carter finally opened it. To the man's credit, surprise flamed in his eyes only very briefly before settling into a cool mask of nonchalance. His hand settled on the doorknob as though he were trying to decide what to do. Finally, he stepped backward, allowing the bags on his shoulder to slip down his arm and settle on the carpet as he pulled the door open wider.
"Connor. How predictable. Come on in."
Connor pushed off from the wall and stepped into the room, careful to note Carter's exact position behind him. He didn't expect the man to do anything untoward, but it never hurt to be alert. He knew he wouldn't have much trouble at all subduing the man if necessary.
Connor found another wall to lean against as Carter moved to the desk chair across from him. He stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his fingers together over his belly, looking up at Connor coolly.
"So. What would you like to talk about?"
"You and Marty Brown leaked that information about Drew," Connor said matter-of-factly. "I don't know if you know this, Carter, but revealing the identity of a rape victim prior to a trial is illegal in this state."
Carter shrugged negligently. "You have no proof," he said simply. "There is nobody to prove I had anything to do with it."
"But you did," Connor replied. "You both did."
"Hey, that freelancer asked what her name was. I told him. Might have made mention that she's Heath's little basket case. Maybe that set him off; I dunno. All I know is he was pissed you and your wife brushed him off—he'd been prepaid for an exclusive on the relationship of the infamous Riley brothers post-Ultimate Warrior. Whatever he did after that, he ran with it."
"What kind of man are you?" Connor asked rhetorically. "Who does that kind of a thing? Do you have any idea how much damage that caused?"
Carter shrugged again. "Not my problem, man." He rose from his seat. "What is your problem, or rather, your baby brother's problem, is the shit storm that's about to hit him from treating me how he did. Fire me? He wouldn't be here if it weren't for me! He wouldn't ever have been in Ultimate Warrior if it weren't for me! Fire me?" Carter got nose to nose with Connor and glared. Connor looked back at him impassively, but internally his muscles coiled tight as he felt the pure rage rolling off the man in almost noxious waves.
"Tell your brother that two can play that game—he's no longer manager of the gym. My gym."
"His gym, too," Connor said quietly. "I seem to remember this part where he's co-owner."
Carter smiled cruelly at him. "Yeah, about that. When he signed the contract, he agreed I would retain majority ownership and the right to dissolve the partnership as I saw fit. Well, now I see fit. Carter's Gym is mine, and you can tell him for me he's officially out on his ass. Hope he doesn't have any personals in my office—if so, they're goin' in the trash." Carter stepped around Connor to pick up his bags, and Connor clenched his jaw angrily.
"Tell your boy he just fucked up royally," Carter continued, opening the door again. "Oh, one more thing." He turned and gave Connor another chilling smile. "I've got a sweet little surprise waiting
for him. I won't ruin the punch-line for you. Tell him to watch his ass." Carter stepped out of the room and the door slammed shut behind him, as Connor stood rooted in place, unable to process what he'd just heard. Things had gone from bad to completely fucked in a matter of seconds.
He headed back to the patio where his family was still breakfasting and caught Heath's eye, waving him over. His brother rose from his seat, wiping his mouth on a napkin and joined him where Connor was standing a few feet away. He folded his arms and frowned at his brother's expression.
"What is it?" Heath asked quietly. "Where'd you go?"
Connor sighed. "I—I went to go look for Carter." He steeled himself against the look of pure anger that creased his brother's face.
"You did what?" Heath hissed, struggling to keep his voice low. "Connor—what the fuck?"
Connor held up a hand. "Look, get mad at me if you want to. I was just bein' a big brother. None of that sat well with me yesterday. Heath, he worked with Marty to leak the story to the commentators. He said he gave Marty her name, and he did the rest."
Heath shook his head in disgust. "Marty Brown has been after me since I told him to go eat shit when he tried to interview me at Ultimate Warrior last year. He had somethin' to do with the JAG coming there and throwing my ass in jail as soon as I got dressed."
Connor nodded. "Yes. And he's also got a huge part in this. I don't know what can be done legally yet, but I promise, I won't let him get away with this." He paused awkwardly. "Er, there's more."
Heath frowned at him again.
"Carter fired you, and he spoke to his lawyer to get your business partnership dissolved. Says you signed a contract allowing him to retain the rights of the business should you leave for any reason." Connor reached out and gripped his brother's shoulder briefly. "I—you're out of a job, Heath. I'm sorry."