Trace’s hand slid from the front of my neck around to fist in my hair so that he could pull me down for a kiss. I let go of his shoulders to grip the sheet on either side of his head. He held me against his body, and our hips continued to thrust into one another in desperation. The slow burn of my orgasm began to roll over me, and when Trace said my name again, it exploded inside me, lighting me up like a fucking pinball machine hitting the bonus target. My body went rigid, and I tore the sheets free as Trace pushed up into me one final time, growling my name as he wrapped his arms around me, crushing me to him.
I collapsed, feeling boneless in his grip, both of us fighting to catch our breath.
“Fucking hell, Cricket.” Trace slid his hand into the tangled mess of my hair and kissed me. “Best pie ever.”
I nuzzled his neck and sighed. “I think I like your a la mode.”
— TRACE —
19. ANY WAY BUT WILD
October 10, 2016
IS STONE’S LEGACY HISTORY, OR IS HE ABOUT TO BECOME A LEGEND? By GossipGrind.com
Trace Stone’s agent, Jesse Dunne, insists that his client will be ready for the competitive season and has already committed to a few races in December for the Back Country Tour.
“He’s stronger than he was a year ago,” Dunne said. “He’s hungry for a win and I think the injury has put a lot of things in perspective, making him even more competitive than ever before.”
When asked why Stone was staying out of the public eye, Dunne replied, “He’s focused on his training and doesn’t want to be distracted by questions over his health and workouts. He’s aware that his fans are anxious to see him and I have a few things in the works to answer some of their questions. We just ask for a little patience while he keeps his focus where it needs to be—on winning.”
Dunne would neither confirm nor deny rumors that Stone was now on the East Coast, or in his hometown, but that hasn’t stopped some fans from taking to social media with hastily taken pictures and claims of Stone sightings. The most recent sighting occurred yesterday when a fan insisted he’d seen Stone at The Smithsonian Museum with an unknown woman. The photo taken was of the couple’s profile as they hurried to leave the building. Not only was the image blurred, but the man in question was wearing a hat, making identification nearly impossible.
We’re just as eager as fans to discover what Stone has been up to since August, but the question must be posed; if Stone is training to make history, why would he be spending his weekends at a museum?
=========================
After Harlow was done manhandling me, she rolled to my side and nestled into the crook of my arm. The ice had been knocked off the bed, and the ace bandage was loose around her leg, but when I promised to fix it, she waved me away and insisted she didn’t need it. It was still early in the night, and we should have gotten up to study, but we both seemed content to lay in bed, hands and mouths gently exploring dips and curves and skin.
I took a piece of her copper-colored hair and wrapped it around my finger as I stared at her. She opened her mouth to say something and then quickly closed it before the words could escape.
“Just say it, Harlow. Whatever it is, just say it.”
Her face tilted toward mine. “That first night…my birthday?”
“Yeah?”
“We…it was intense.”
I leaned in and kissed along her ear. “You remember?”
She shrugged, struggling to get the words out. “I didn’t at first,” she finally said. “I guess it was just shock and denial.” She gazed around the room, noting the pillows tossed to the floor, and the sheets ripped from the corners of the mattress, just like they had been on the night of her birthday. “I got a little crazy.”
“I like it when you get crazy.” I twisted the curl of her hair a little tighter, and she sucked in a breath and made a little moan as she leaned into me, searching for my lips. The kiss was soft, lazy, and sweet.
“What else makes you crazy, Cricket?” I whispered. My fingers skimmed along her ribs and then back down to her waist. “Do you like it naughty? What I did to you with Buzz? When I made you come on my fingers in the middle of the dance floor? Does a little kink make you crazy?”
She closed her eyes and dipped her head until her lips were pressed against my chest. “Yes.” The word was barely an inhale of breath it was so quiet.
“You want kink? More a la mode?” I pressed my hands into the small of her back so that she arched into me.
Harlow nodded.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
She looked up at me, her eyes full of want. “I want you to be in control. Maybe tie me up?” She said it like a question; like she couldn’t believe she was admitting it and she was unsure whether I’d refuse.
Clearly, she underestimated the male mind. She was willing to let me tie her up? She trusted me enough to give up control and let me have my way with her? To please her however I wanted?
Fuck yes. I didn’t have to be asked twice.
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I was still wearing my pants since she never took them all the way off. I pulled them up, but left the button undone as I stood up. I turned to face her. “Stay.”
She nodded, her eyes blazing at the command. I crossed the room and opened her closet door, scanning the shelves, looking for what I needed. Hanging on a hook, I found one of those gauzy scarves women wore even when it wasn’t cold out. I snagged it and then turned to face Harlow, twisting it into a tight rope and wrapping the ends around my hands as I stalked back toward the bed. Climbing onto the mattress, I straddled her, the blankets she’d pulled over herself trapping her beneath me.
I took her hands in mine and positioned them in front of me, leaning in to kiss her. When she kissed me back, she surrendered to the movements of my fingers, and I said in a low voice, “Trust me, Cricket.”
“I do.”
She lowered her eyes to watch as I slowly looped the scarf around her wrists, pausing to kiss her deeply each time another coil slipped over her skin. I finished by twisting the fabric between her wrists and over the loops I’d already created before tying a knot to hold it all tightly in place.
A shiver of excitement rushed through her as we stared down at our hands—hers bound and mine holding the other end of the scarf. The material was soft, but she couldn’t move. She was at my mercy.
“Do you do this often?” she asked.
“First time.”
She huffed out a nervous laugh, her cheeks stained pink as she blushed. “You’re pretty good with knots for this to be the first time.”
“You’d be surprised what you can learn on the internet.” I rubbed my thumbs across the coils around her wrists, and I rocked my hips into her.
Her breath hitched as she inhaled. “Why on earth would you google how to tie knots? This is the first time I’ve even brought it up.” Her voice wavered. As much as giving control over to me made her nervous, I could tell she also liked it. A lot.
I grinned and leaned over her, pulling her arms up over her head to tie the end of the scarf around a headboard slat. “You forget, Cricket. I’ve seen inside your nightstand drawer. I knew you liked it wild.”
She opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but I merely leaned down to silence her—lips first. I caught her mouth with mine and her argument dissolved into a kiss, my hips grinding against hers as I tugged at the scarf to make sure the knot was secure.
“If you change your mind and decide you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” My eyes searched hers. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t want.”
She was panting hard from our kiss, and her tongue darted out to taste where my mouth had been just moments ago. “I want this,” she said.
I lifted up on my knees and started peeling the blanket back down her body. She hadn’t put her pants back on so every inch I revealed was more naked skin. I shoved the blanket to the floor since that’s where it would
end up once she started kicking and shoving at the bedding, and then I crawled back up her body, my hands stroking her from the toes up. She leaned into my caresses, and I could see her straining against the scarf in an attempt to touch me, but it held fast. I pushed her shirt up over her head, letting it rest over her hands before reaching around her back and undoing her bra. I pushed the delicate lace up over her arms to her wrists and then bent my head down to draw a nipple into my mouth. My hands were wrapped around her ribs, gently arching her back to bring her closer to my mouth. With each suck and flick of my tongue, her body twisted, always trying to get closer to me. When I started to tease her with barely there kisses across her chest and down her belly, she made frustrated little moans that drove me insane.
“I want you inside,” she begged.
I rubbed against her, and she wrapped a leg around the back of my thigh, trying to pull me closer.
It was a monumental effort to pull away, but I got up and stood next to the bed, staring down at her as I pushed my jeans to the floor. Her gaze was greedy, and she licked her lips as I slowly inched my boxers down. I got another condom, and she watched hungrily as I rolled it on.
“You want me to fuck you?” I asked in a low voice, pushing her thigh to the side to make room for me between her legs.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Hard or gentle?”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she yanked on her hands like she wanted to grab onto me, the scarf going taut with her failure to get free. “I want it wild.”
I hovered over her on my knees, my hand resting on the mattress next to her head. She was looking down between us, so I shoved my hand into her hair, gripping it firmly as I tilted her head up so she was looking at me. “Eyes on me,” I ordered, kissing her.
She groaned a “yes” into my mouth, and when I lowered my hips down to grind against her, she bucked up. I could feel how wet she was as I slid along the heat of her. I wrapped my hand around the back of her knee and jerked it up to her chest, opening her up to me as I pushed inside of her, a shallow thrust that I repeated over and over again.
“Oh God,” she moaned. Her head fell back to the mattress, her eyes closing. I wanted to command her to keep her eyes on me again, but I liked that she couldn’t help but close them—as if eye contact was too much to bear.
I pumped my hips into her, going deeper each time, keeping my grip on her hair.
“Harder,” she begged in a rough voice.
I pushed hard until I was deep inside of her, and she demanded I do it again.
She was the one tied up, the one at my mercy, but I was the one who was a slave to her orders. Each thrust into her frayed my control until I felt completely unleashed. Each drag out only made me want to be buried deeper inside. My hips were slamming into her, and her free leg was clamped around my hip as she arched up into me with each thrust.
Just like in Vegas, the bed was rocking with our movements, the headboard banging against the wall behind it, as Harlow made desperate sounds of pleasure.
Suddenly her body went rigid. She was chanting “yes” and “oh God” over and over. When her orgasm crashed through her, she said my name again and pulled so hard on the scarf that she broke the slat it was tied around. Ignoring the damage, she slipped her tied hands over my head, holding me against her as she jerked up into me, riding the wave of her climax.
I thrust my hips into her a final time, her name like a confession as I shuddered inside of her. The reality of how much I wanted her was barreling down my spine with an intensity I hadn’t expected. I collapsed against the bed, trying to keep most of my weight off her as we both tried to catch our breath. Her hands rested against the back of my neck, her arms hanging limply around me.
“Looks like I owe you a new bed,” I pointed out.
Her laugh was weak with exhaustion. “Not yet. We have a few more things to break off before it’s totally worthless.”
I chuckled. “The next bed will have to be sturdier. I can’t imagine fucking you any way but wild from now on.”
I expected her to argue, to put an expiration date on whatever it was we were doing, but she merely pulled my face down to hers to kiss me.
“I think I could get used to that,” she said.
***
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since our first real date, and Harlow hadn’t run off screaming yet. In all honesty, that was a huge improvement from the night of her birthday. I’d followed through with my promise to help her with her article, and I found myself in her bed more often than mine most nights. Not that I was complaining. Being wrapped around Harlow was my favorite way to sleep these days.
Things were getting back on track with my workouts, too. When I wasn’t in class or with my girl, I was training. Hard. My confidence had returned and my knee was feeling great. My agent was so excited about my progress, he was like a twelve-year-old boy who just discovered masturbation. He spent a lot of time researching locations where I might be able to get in some actual snow time in the next few weeks.
For the first time in months, I was looking forward to being on my board again. All the apprehension I’d felt back in the summer was finally gone. I couldn’t deny that my newfound confidence might have something to do with Harlow. I didn’t know what it was about her that made me feel grounded again. Maybe it was the fact that she was self-assured and focused on her future. Or it could have been the fact that she constantly challenged me, which was what I’d always needed to be at my best. Whatever it was, she made me feel more like myself than I had since my accident. She’d made it clear to me many times since we’d met that she didn’t need me, but I was beginning to understand that I just might be the one who needed her. And the knowledge that I wasn’t frightened by that need only made me more sure that my life was heading in the right direction.
Which was why I was currently talking to my agent, Jesse Dunne, about publicity and endorsement opportunities that he was scheduling in the next few months. It was crazy to think that even when I wasn’t competing, I could earn money just with my name and face.
“I’m sending you the information for your train ticket up to New York this weekend. You just need to be at the Quench offices on Saturday by 3:00 p.m. for your endorsement shoot,” Jesse said. “I have you staying at the New York Hilton Midtown. You’ll head over to the Sports Weekly headquarters directly after for their photo shoot and interview.”
I couldn’t stop the automatic tensing of my neck muscles. Quench. Right. I was lucky to get that one. At least I kept telling myself that. A lifetime supply of sports drink and an endorsement deal that was almost too good to be true. The only problem was hocking a product with the unfortunate name of Quench. The person responsible for coming up with that brand should have to have the word tattooed on his forehead for being such an idiot. It didn’t sound like something I’d reach for after a hard workout. It sounded like the name of the crazy town drunk or the pervy next door neighbor who liked to peek through your curtains while you were naked. Definitely not something I’d want to put in my mouth.
“Thanks,” I told Jesse. “This is a great opportunity for me.”
He chuckled. “Me too. I get twenty percent of that deal, remember?”
“You deserve it. After everything I lost for both of us last winter because of the accident—”
“It happens,” he interrupted. “It’d be almost surprising if you didn’t get hurt at some point during your career. I’m just glad you’re back on the mend, man. I can’t wait to see you compete this season.”
I clenched my fist and then released it. My body was itching to tear down a mountain at breakneck speed. “I can’t wait to get back on the snow.”
“I’m working on that,” he promised. “I’ve got a good lead that I’m going to check on now. I’ll give you a call later.”
“Later,” I agreed before hanging up and shoving my phone into my back pocket. I tossed my empty water bottle into a recycling bin and headed for the Studen
t Union. I was sweaty from my morning run, but I wanted to get a copy of the Diamondback before I headed back to my apartment. Harlow’s story was supposed to be published today, and I was anxious to read it since she’d refused to let me look at it beforehand.
I entered the building and grabbed my copy, opening it right there in the foyer, too eager to read what she’d written to find a place to sit down. I found the words The Perfect Date, the title that I’d come up with weeks ago, and grinned as I read. As usual, the writing was witty and engaging, with just a little bit of awkwardness thrown in. Just like Harlow. She listed out all of the dates we’d had together, starting off with the paintball outing. She left out the mishap with Bobby and managed to make the date sound like something I’d want to do again. Although next time I’d make sure we weren’t playing with a bunch of angry teenage boys.
She went on to talk about the Smithsonian scavenger hunt, recounting things I’d forgotten about. Then there was our day at National Harbor where we rode the huge Ferris Wheel and bought half the merchandise in the Peeps store. There was the trip to the Inner Harbor where we rented a paddleboat before catching a concert at Powerplant Live. A hike to Great Falls, a night of dancing lessons at Mobtown Ballroom, and the quirky ghost tour we took through Baltimore rounded out the rest of the dates. Even with my training schedule and Harlow’s jobs and schoolwork, we’d made the most of the last twenty-one days.
“Hey! Where’s your orange?”
I looked up to find Flex standing in front of me, gesturing at my sweaty shirt. He was dressed in Orioles gear from head to toe.
“The O’s season is over,” I told him, confused.
“Yeah, but it’s Halloween, and The Coffee Bar is giving out free donuts if you order a coffee and wear orange.” He gave me a look like I’d forgotten to put on pants.
Hitched (Hearts of Stone Book 2) Page 20