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He smiles, and then lifts me up just enough for him to push his thick cock in me. “I think it’s safe to say we’re not just friends anymore.”
My eyes close from the instant pinch, which subsides with each thrust of his hips. “No, not anymore. Definitely not friends.”
“I never wanted to be your friend,” he growls.
I press my palms to his chest, riding his cock harder, quickening the pace. “I never wanted to be yours either.”
He licks his lips and makes a hissing sound when he slams back into me, his cock filling me up. I lean forward, and Preston grabs the back of my head. Our lips meet, and when they do, my head spins from the intensity of his kiss. He consumes me, devours me with his tongue.
When I’m with Preston, I forget about rules and my messy past. He makes everything better. One day at a time, he heals all the old wounds. What we have is complicated but so perfect. Right now, he’s mine. And I’m his. If only it could last forever.
After we go another round, we’re both spent and starving—this time for actual food. Dressed in shorts and one of Preston’s hockey shirts, I follow him downstairs. Some of his teammates are in the living room. A few of them turn around when our feet hit the bottom landing.
“Do you two ever do anything other than fuck?” Drake asks, with a cocky smirk.
I look at Preston, fighting laughter.
He laughs. “I think it’s time I take you out, don’t you?”
I can’t stop smiling. “You want to take me on a date?”
“That’s what I said.” He kisses the top of my head, holding me close. “I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean. I’ll make a reservation for a real restaurant. You know, like cloth napkins and candles and shit.”
I laugh. “Way to sell it, Parker.”
He shrugs. “What do you want from me? I’ve never had a girlfriend before. Just girls I fucked.”
“Real classy,” Jamie says. He looks at me, amused. “Bex, I wouldn’t blame you if you ran the other way right now. This one is a piece of work.”
I steal a glance at Preston, smiling. “I’m not going anywhere… as long as my dad doesn’t find out.”
Preston’s smile turns into a frown. “Let me take care of your dad.” He focuses his gaze on Jamie. “Bex is coming to Thanksgiving with Coach Bryant.”
“Sweet. I’ll be there,” Drake says. “Bring Taylor with you.”
“I don’t know for sure,” I interject. “I still have to ask my dad if he wants to change our usual plans. You guys know better than anyone how much he hates change.”
They grunt in answer.
“What about Taylor?” Drake asks.
“Taylor is a definite no. She flies home to California every year for Thanksgiving. Why? You like her?”
Drake shrugs. “She’s okay.”
Jamie throws a pillow at his head. “Don’t lie, bro. I’m getting sick of hearing about Taylor.”
A hint of red touches Drake’s cheeks. “Whatever.”
Preston threads his fingers between mine and leads me into the kitchen. It’s vacant, much like the first night we were together. Until Jamie and Drake come barreling in behind us.
“Do you know how to cook?” Jamie asks me.
“Not unless you want mac and cheese from a box,” I deadpan.
Jamie looks at Drake.
They both shrug.
“That works.”
“No,” Preston says. “Make your own damn food. Or get Shannon back so she can cook for the house again.”
I look at Jamie. “You’re not talking to Shannon anymore?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “She’s kinda crazy.”
“But he misses her,” Drake says. “Hell, even I miss her. She makes the best pancakes. Now that Shan’s gone, we have to eat at the cafeteria.”
I hold my hands up. “Well, don’t look at me. I’m not going to be your mom replacement.”
Jamie gives me a disgusted look.
“Shan is wifey material,” Drake says. “This idiot is too stupid to realize.”
“Enough about Shan,” Jamie growls.
Preston opens the refrigerator, scanning the shelves. “Ignore them, babe. I do.” He removes what looks like leftover chicken enchiladas from the fridge. “Stop asking my girl to make shit for you,” he tells Jamie. “If you want someone to baby you, then go beg Shannon to come back.”
I take a seat at the kitchen island, leaving the end stool for Preston, and glance at Jamie. “What did you do?”
“It’s complicated.” He sighs. “You know how women are.”
“Pain in my ass,” Drake interjects.
“Hey, I’m right here,” I remind them.
Preston preheats the oven and sets the container of Mexican food on the counter.
“You okay with enchiladas?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll eat whatever.”
His eyes illuminate, and a sick thought crosses his face. I know him well enough to read his dirty thoughts. I smile in response to our silent exchange.
I stare at him, wondering how we got to this point. Now, I have to work up the courage to tell my dad the truth. That I’m madly, head over heels in love with the star of his team. He will be crushed.
