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“Sit,” I commanded. She let her head fall back as she obeyed me, lowering herself onto my waiting shaft. Every single time I entered her, it was the best moment of my life. Her warmth closed around me, pulling me in, until I could feel her heart beating in my body, slightly faster than my own. We locked together as if we were made for each other, and she pressed her chest against mine. Our open mouths clashed, tongues sparring as we raced toward the edge.
“Jamie,” she gasped as she shot upright and started riding me like a cowgirl in a saddle. I raised up off the bed, spearing even deeper into her, jerking her hips down to meet mine. Our bodies were old friends by now. They knew each other well, and they’d made this journey together plenty of times before. But also, there was the sense that we were standing on the threshold of a new frontier. We’d dipped our toes in already with Rowan. But ahead of us, there was a previously unknown universe of kink.
“You’re mine, Hope,” I groaned as she circled her hips, clenching around me, drawing my balls up tighter with every contraction. “And no matter how many other men I allow to fuck you, you will always belong to me.”
Her eyes opened and silver half-moons peeked out. Her jaw dropped as the tip of my cock massaged her G-spot and my thumb found her clit, strumming it as I felt the wave cresting inside me. She made a noise like a mewling kitten at first, and then the sound grew into a moan. It became a sharp cry as she brought her weight down onto my cock again and again until she froze, her body seizing up around me. When I felt the tell-tale ripples of her pussy milking my cock, begging for my come, I let out a roar and exploded inside of her.
She collapsed on my chest as aftershocks rocked us both. Clinging to my shoulders, her face nuzzled in the curve of my neck, she quickly drifted off.
I held her tight against my chest, going soft inside her. When her breathing deepened, and I was sure she was asleep, I kissed her temple.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I whispered into the gray-blue night. “I always will.”
55.
Hope
Lola screamed in frustration as the buzzer sounded and the final score flashed on the board. No one gave her a second glance because our entire side of the stadium had erupted with angry jeers with the opposing team’s goalie blocked Nate’s last-ditch shot. I could tell from Reid’s body language that he was livid. Lola was booing loudly on my right side while on my left, Jamie shouted abuse at the officials, who were hurrying off the ice. They’d made a controversial call at the beginning of the third round that put the Prospectors at a disadvantage.
Most people probably found the cacophony of a hockey game abrasive, but for me it was nostalgic. I’d grown up rink-side, cheering for my brother. I got to see him play less now than at any other time except when we were both in college, so when Jamie had suggested coming to Denver during the Hawks’ bye week, I’d jumped to agree.
Not only had I been missing Reid, but I was dying to see my best friend who had gone and shacked up with half of Colorado’s premier professional hockey team. She was fearless. Always had been. I could still see her like it was yesterday, blonde hair in pigtails, skinned knees on display and her hands planted firmly on her hips as she told off boys older and bigger than both of us while I wandered off and pretended I didn’t know her. Now it was hard to believe that I’d ever been ashamed of this beautiful spitfire. I studied her furious face in profile. She was yelling obscenities along with the rest of the Prospectors’ friends and family section. This was the defeat that made it official—they weren’t going to the playoffs this year. It was normal for a team to struggle a bit with new transfers, and they’d gotten a large influx of fresh meat this year. But I knew that platitudes would be little comfort for my brother and his intense, committed teammates.
We met them outside the locker room. Jamie offered consolation to the group of sweaty hunks who crowded around Lola. They practically lifted her off her feet as they headed out to the parking lot.
I watched them out of the corner of my eye, amazed as ever at her ability to juggle them all. She kissed each one, asking a detailed, specific question about the game, or offering a tailored condolence. With all but Will on the team, it would be easy to cop out with a blanket statement of regret but she clearly knew how important it was to connect with each one of her partners.
We couldn’t all fit in one vehicle, so we decided to take a caravan of ride-shares downtown, where Lola and her guys steered us into bar after bar, each crowd wilder than the last. All night long my brother, and Nate the Great, and Dallas “The Tank” Cash were recognized and offered words of comfort. Strangers were clamoring to buy rounds for our entire group. Huck Hart tried to dissuade them—he was making the big bucks now as a head coach in the show, and he’d invited us all out with the offer to treat. But I didn’t see him reach for his billfold once that a crowd of sympathetic fans didn’t rush forward to pay the tab. As generous as some bar-goers were, I also saw people covertly filming Lola and the guys, whispering behind their hands. Outside the last club we went to, a couple of paparazzi were standing by. They shoved their cameras at us, flashing in our faces. I ducked my head and hid under Jamie’s arm while Nate had to be hauled along by his teammates so he couldn’t attack them.
“Well, at least we know the entire city of Denver is feeling sorry for us tonight,” Reid remarked as he slung his arm around Lola and led the entire parade of us down the sidewalk. Lola and the Prospectors were minor Denver celebrities, and everywhere we went all night we kept getting sideways glances from people as they stepped into the street to clear the way for our companions. After a group of girls gave us a particularly nasty glare, Lola grinned at me, grabbing my hand and holding it tightly.
This lifestyle was not without its hurdles. I knew that. You had to have tough skin and a lot of confidence—neither was my strong suit. I wasn’t as brave or as free-spirited as Lola. Even as recently as last year, when I was watching her collect boyfriends like novelty stickers, I was sure that we would always be on different pages on the relationship front. But now, a few months later, she was, as usual, the only person I knew who really got me. She’d been through what I was going through, and much more. I might have expanded my horizons, but I could still never keep eight men entertained and satisfied the way she managed to. She made it look easy. But I knew that it took real commitment, real care, to succeed in a set-up like theirs.
I still wasn’t convinced that they would all be together forever. But I was sure of one thing. Everything I wanted was possible. It was all right on the other side of my self-imposed limitations.
I pictured Rowan’s sparkling hazel eyes, his lazy smile. I thought of Thacker, in spite of myself. I tried to push away the butterflies that swarmed in my stomach when I imagined him standing over me in the walk-in with tortured eyes, leaning down for a stolen kiss…
I had some big decisions to make, and I would need to have some major conversations when we got back home.
56.
Rowan
My apartment was a one-bedroom but luxurious, a unit in a brand-new development that had sprung up in the shadow of Casper Mountain. I sat alone on my Italian leather couch, staring at my phone, willing it to buzz.
Hope and Jamie had been gone for two days. I might go insane if I had to wait two more to hear from her.
It wasn’t like our relationship was the type that required a daily check-in, or good morning and good night texts. We didn’t evenhavea relationship. Just a mutual attraction, and a mutual understanding. Except lately, I wasn’t so sure I understood. I’d been with a lot of girls. Serious and not. It was the blessing and curse of being a professional athlete with even a small amount of star power. Women flocked to you, and flock they had. But none of them had captured my attention as completely as Hope had in a few short weeks.
Until recently, I’d just assumed that my entire life would be bland, over-priced bachelor pads in different cities. I never imagined I would fall like a ton of bricks for a taken woman who humored me by letting me come inside her every once in a while when the mood struck her.
That passing thought, though depressing, was still potent enough to make my dick wake up in my pants. I groaned, dropping my head back against the sofa and closing my eyes. Every time I did, I saw Hope. Her body, her smile. I heard her laugh and felt her soft hands on my skin. She was the only drug I’d ever wanted, the only thing I’d ever been addicted to other than hockey. Before her…there was no before her. Not anymore. While I wasn’t paying attention, she’d become my everything.
Whatever they say about a watched pot must be true of cell phones, too. Sitting there, squeezing my eyes shut, torturing myself with the memory of Hope’s head in my lap, the feel of her sweet little tongue on my shaft, I finally heard the vibration I’d been hoping for. The special one I chose for her that mimicked the sound of a heartbeat. I didn’t even care how weak and pathetic I had become for her. I just needed my fix.
I shot forward and snatched the phone off the coffee table. I’d never smashed a notification faster in my life.
Hey. I miss you. How are things there? Everything is good in Denver. We get back in town on Sunday. Let’s get together then.
