IMPACT: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (10 page)

Chapter 16

Brad

There was a fierce challenge in her eyes when she jutted her chin out at me. "So? Show me."

"Show you?"

Her eyes blazed. "What you would do. You think I don't know you, Brad?"

"No," I told her. "You don't. But that's okay because you're going to find out.

I squeezed her hand, yanking her close. She stumbled and laughed at me in surprise and maybe a little bit of anticipation. She knew how I got when I wanted to fuck, but this was something much more than she was used to and so she was confused.

She slid along the side of me, her breath against my ear. "Did you miss me or something?"

It was such an offhand little remark, but it demanded to be answered truthfully. I turned back looked at her, then bent her arms around her back as I folded her close against me.

Her teasing little smile dissolved off of her face and she looked up at me shocked.

"I've missed you," I said flatly.

I was done with pretending.

I bent her backward, and in full view of the bar, in full view of
everyone
, I kissed her. I heard several whoops and a few catcalls from the rest of the bar-goers. But I didn't give a fuck about that. I didn't give a fuck about anything except for the way that Olivia's body felt against mine. It felt
right
, her lips parting for me, opening up and allowing me inside her hot mouth, the ragged gasps that escaped it as I kissed her harder and deeper than I thought possible. I knew that with this kiss, I was trying to mark her, trying to claim
her
...

This girl who could
never
be claimed.

I needed to make her feel what I felt and the only way I could do that was to overpower her with the same overpowering desire that held me tight in its grasp.

"Goddammit," I growled into her mouth.

And then - I just fucking
grabbed
her, sweeping her legs out from under her and lifting her in one smooth motion.

"Oh my god!" she cried, startled. Her hands went instinctually around my neck, clutching tight as I swept her into my arms. I strode to the side exit and kicked the door open. "Oh my god! Brad?" She sounded a little panicked.

"Quiet," I growled. I needed to think. All the blood was rushing away from my brain, making that nearly impossible. My thoughts came only in vague images. A door. A wall.

An alley.

Bingo.

The metal door swung open into the crisp, cooling night. The air was thin in my lungs, and I felt like I couldn't get a deep enough breath, especially not with Olivia's hair filling my nostrils with the scent of her shampoo. "You smell like..." Driven to distraction, I flung her up against the alley wall, pinning her against it.

"Brad!" she sounded stricken, a little scared. "What are you doing?"

"I've missed you," I told her, holding her face still in my hands so that she couldn't turn away, couldn't roll her eyes, couldn't do anything but look straight at me as I repeated it again, and again until I was certain she had heard me. "Do you understand, Olivia? Part time doesn't cut it for me. I fucking
missed
you."

Fuck "missed," I
needed
her.

I'd come here, to her favorite bar, because I wanted her and was sick of fucking waiting to have her. I walked in ready to tell her that her "terms" were bullshit and it was time for us to do things my way.

Then I saw her and all that big talk fell silent before I even had a chance to say it out loud.

Wants versus needs. I
wanted
to win the Stanley Cup. I
wanted
my brother to move the hell out of my apartment. I
wanted
to retire at age thirty and get a house with a yard. And a dog. Or three. Those were my
wants
. 

I
needed
Olivia.

"Brad, I…" She couldn't get the rest of the words out. Not when I was kissing her as hard as I was. I sank my fingers into her hair, deliberately messing it up. I liked her messy. The coiffed, glossy version of Olivia, perched at a table with her tits out, displaying for some asshole in a suit like some kind of demented peacock? That wasn't the Olivia I wanted. I wanted this one, the one that tasted like wine and desire. I inhaled sharply, taking in all of the scents that made up Olivia; her shampoo that smelled liked coconuts, her minty toothpaste, that peach body wash she liked. But the scent that filled my head was the scent that I knew was only... her. Both sharp and sweet, fresh like newly cut grass in the spring time.

That was the scent of the Olivia I had now, the one who is trembling in spite of herself as my hand roamed down and down. The taste of her, the feel of her, the smell of her, it all filled me up to the point where I felt like I would burst - like a superhero - out of my clothes.

Clothes.
I growled again, suddenly angry at the barrier between us. I reached under her skirt, ignoring her little sound of shock.

"Take these off," I told her.

For a second I thought she'd laugh at me. Olivia was always laughing at me, taking none of my feelings seriously. Not this time. This time, she looked me right in the eye and something, something as new and amazing as surrender flickered across her eyes. She was giving up, giving herself to me. She reached up under her skirt, as if in a trance, and pulled down a red scrap of silk. I reached out my hand and she hesitated for just a fraction of a second before she handed them to me.

Holy shit, if I felt like a superhero before, right now I felt like a fucking
god
. I kissed the panties she handed me and then tucked them into my back pocket.

Then I used my knee to pry her legs open. The bare warmth of her pussy against my thigh was enough to have me growling again, pressing into her, slamming her up against the scratchy bricks. I slid my hand in between us, slipping a finger against that soft, slick skin.

The noise I made startled me. But it sounded exactly like the sound my heart was making inside of my chest. A rumbling, possessive fury that was like nothing I had ever felt. Feeling her, pressed up against the wall, underneath me, had me completely outside of my head. What was this? Who was I? Why did I like the way I had her, pinned like this?

Was it because I knew I finally had her and she couldn't get away?

I moved my finger over the tight little bud of her clit, watching her as her eyes widened and the rolled back in her head. She sagged against my chest, relying on my strength to keep from falling over as she dissolved into a puddle in my arms. "Liv," I breathed into her hair, "Liv, aw fuck, that's right, right here, I told you I would show you what I was going to do, this is it, right here. This is what I would do. This and more, baby, there's so much more. I've got you, I've got you right here, ah, shit, you're cumming yes, I want to feel you, let go, let go for me, I've got you, I'm not letting go. I swear to fucking Christ I'm never fucking letting you go."

She buried her face into my neck and fucking
screamed
against me, shattering from the inside out. My fingers inside of her were nearly crushed by the force of the orgasm that tore through her like wildfire. But I wasn't done. I wasn't done at all.

"Brad," she said, and all at once, my name was the only thing she seemed capable of saying. "Brad, Brad, fuck, Brad," over and over, like a chant. Like a prayer. Driven mad by my name on her lips, I yanked my jeans down. My cock sprang free, already achingly hard for her.

Her chanting became more wild, more savage, my name twisting around until she wasn't saying "Brad" anymore.

She was saying
yes
.

I didn't have a condom. Fuck, I didn't think I was going to do this in a fucking alleyway behind the bar. "Yes!" Olivia, whisper-screamed, closing her long fingers around my length. "Please," she begged.

Goddamn.

She said
please
.

I was fucking
done for
.

"Oh. Oh, fuck." Sliding into her raw, bare, skin against skin like this... I could feel everything... everything.... "Olivia...fuck!" I was babbling. I was surprised I was even still capable of speech.

Olivia moaned, arching up against me. "More," she pleaded.

"Say it again for me."

"Say what?"

"Say please." I needed it.
Needed it.

"Fuck you, Brad."

I drove into her, hard, and her eyes rolled back in her head. "Say it."

"Unh...," she moaned against me.

I was an animal. I could only take what I wanted. I drove into her, higher and harder. She blinked, and then a ragged, gasping shriek tore from her throat.

"Brad," she cried, and it was either ecstasy or tears in her voice. "Yes.
Please
, Christ,
please
fuck me, Brad."

Something exploded in my chest. I crushed her against me. I believed - in that one, white-hot moment - that I could fuse with her, that we could actually become one, and that belief was so powerful because she wanted me.

No.

She
needed
me.

She needed me the way I needed her. I could feel her shatter, that last wall between us falling. I sought her mouth, crushing it against mine, letting her scream out her orgasm against me even as I came so fucking hard I almost blacked out.

I came
inside
of her.

"Shit," I whispered, hot tendrils still snaking through my body and making me shudder.

"It's okay," she whispered, kissing me. "I'm on the pill. It's fine. It's so fine."

Chapter 17

Olivia

My face was wet. I touched my cheek and was startled to see that I was crying.

Was I happy? Or sad? I had no idea. Emotions I had never felt, never
let
myself feel, tumbled around in my chest, swirling like water down the drain. They spun around so that the water became muddy and unclear and I had no idea what I was feeling anymore.

All I felt was ache. Hurt. A hole opened up inside of me that I wasn't aware of until a second ago.

Now it gaped open like a chasm

I leaned against Brad and cried.

He held me against him, quiet as anything, the only sound the muted shushing of the cars snaking by and his own slowing heartbeat.

What the hell was this? Sex was supposed to be fun. Sex with Brad was supposed to be my frivolous escape.

I pulled back from his chest and sniffled. My tears had soaked through his t-shirt, making it translucent. My cheeks burned.

"Hey." Brad bent down, pressing his forehead against mine. "You want to talk about it?"

I tried to gather up the shards of my dignity. "We don't
talk
, Brad."

He blinked. "We
can
."

"You weren't supposed to be here tonight," I heard myself saying. It sounded like an accusation.

"But I was." He wiped away the tear that hung at the edge of my nose. "And I've missed you."

"You said that," I sniffled. "A few times."

He waited a beat. "Did you miss me?"

His image swam in front of me, I blinked and the tears fell even harder.

And all at once, I just...
gave up
.

A dam burst in my chest and the muddy, swirling water poured out in a flood, and I suddenly felt everything at once.

He was supposed to
leave
. He was supposed to be an unreliable, undependable
man
, someone I could use and discard before
he
discarded
me
. He wasn't supposed to
be
here, making me
feel
things and holding me quietly while I did.

He wasn't supposed to be placing tender kisses along my hairline with an intimacy that made me shudder. He wasn't supposed to be so tender right now. He wasn't supposed to be smoothing my hair and murmuring soothing words. He wasn't supposed to comfort me, dammit, I was a grown-ass woman and I didn't need him to do this for me. I could take care of myself. I didn't need
him
to take care of me.

He was supposed to
leave.

I put my hands on his chest, wanting like hell to push him away but I only grabbed his shirt and clung to him because he
had
stayed, even though I had tried so hard to drive him away. He hadn't left and he was
here, here, here....

"I'm going to take you home," he whispered against my cheek.

I nodded and let him slip his hand around my waist, holding me upright, and I leaned against him.

He was really strong.

Strong enough to carry us both.

"Keys?" He held out his hand and I mutely fished around in my purse and handed them over. No one
had ever driven my car before, but I just held them out and plopped my keys into his outstretched palm. Then I sagged into the passenger seat and let Brad drive me home.

"Your car?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it."

"Did you drive here?"

"I said," he turned to me, and his face was stern, "don't worry about it." But then he closed my fingers in his hand and lifted them to his mouth, kissing me so tenderly that he almost made me cry again.

He pulled into the underground garage below my building and found a spot within minutes, a feat I wouldn't have believed possible before this evening.

Now? I sort of believed anything was possible.

He parked the car quietly, walked around to the passenger side quietly, and then quietly opened the door and leaned in.

"I'm going to carry you inside now," he informed me.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I'm going to anyway."

When a fire burns savagely hot, there is a certain shade of blue that dances in the flames. His eyes were that exact same color.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said.

A shiver went down my spine, freezing me in place, and I let him pick me up. I let him carry me - something he did with surprising ease - cradling me in his arms like a baby. And not once did I think that this was crazy. Not once did I worry about whether I had the upper hand, whether I was the one in charge here.

I knew that I wasn't.

And that was profoundly, deeply, o
kay
.

"Brad," I whispered, as he laid me out on my bed.

"Shush," he replied. My breath quickened as he lifted my skirt. "It was too fast in the alley," he murmured, his warm breath across my thigh. I felt completely hollowed out, but desire surged in to fill that empty space. I fell back, as boneless and yielding as a ragdoll and let Brad take control.

He paused for a moment and lifted his head to look me in the eye. He
felt
it. Me yielding to him. He had never felt it before and his face broke out into such a perfect,
beautiful
smile that I almost started crying again.

Then he pressed the flat of his tongue against my slit and began to lick.

Heat spilled into that empty, hollow, space in my chest and began to fill it. The warmth radiated out from my chest, spreading down my limbs until I swear I could shoot lightning out from my fingertips. With each tiny, perfect jab of Brad's tongue, my body pulsed. I was a liquid, spilling over the sheets, ready to dissolve into him. He brought me right to the edge of sanity...

And then pulled back.

"Tell me," he growled.

I sat up, bewildered and more than a little irritated. "What?"

"Tell me," he paused and stammered a second like his brain was moving faster than his tongue. Though his tongue
could
move pretty damn fast. "Tell me what you're feeling."

"Can't you tell?"

"Yes. But, can you?"

I blinked at him, arching up. "Brad, stop fucking around with me." I wanted to beg him for the release he'd denied me.
Make me come, Brad. Please.

"I'm not. I'm not fucking around at all. And I want to make sure, before I go any further, that you're not fucking around anymore either." He looked me square in the eye. "I'm done with your games, Olivia. We do this, we're doing it right."

"With me as your
girlfriend
?" I teased.

He didn't smile at all. "Exactly that, yes."

But I couldn't help scoffing. "And you'll be my big boyfriend?"

"I'd actually like that, yeah."

"But..." In spite of everything that had just happened, in spite of the undammed emotions that were now coursing through me, completely unchecked, in spite of all of the feelings I had and how I knew they were all for him... in spite of all of that, I was still trying to twist this - whatever it was - into the shape that already existed in my head. "You're a fucking
hockey star
," I explained patiently, like this was just something he hadn't considered up until now. "You're on the road, with all the fans, all those
puck bunnies
flinging themselves at you. You really want to be tied down?"

His eyes gleamed for a second. "Yes."

"And you want to tie me down?" I swallowed.

"Actually?" That blue fire in his eyes burned hotter. "That sounds like a hell of a lot of fun."

He disappeared from the room.

"Wait," I called, "What the hell?" I paused, waited. My skirt was coiled up around my waist and the cool air hit the heat between my legs and made me shiver. I felt suddenly bereft and alone. And I wanted him to come back.

After a moment, he did. And in his hand was a length of...

"Is that...rope?"

"It is."

"Where the hell did you find rope in my apartment?"

He shrugged. "You had it in the closet in your front hall."

"How did you know this?"

"I left it there."

"
What
?"

He shrugged again, but the tiniest smirk quirked the side of his mouth.

"Wait, what do you want to do with that?"

He walked over to the edge of the bed and let a few feet dangle down from his outstretched hand. It was surprisingly silky against the bare skin of my thigh and raised a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" I gasped.

"A long time. But I needed to wait until you were ready."

I bit my lip, heart already racing before I even realized what he was going to do.

Because I knew that I was going to let him.

"You're ready," he growled, moving over me. "So now I'm gonna tie you down."