by Kate Meader
“You’re the beautiful one, Mia. Jesus, look at you.”
“I’d rather not.”
He pushed her back and loomed over her, taking in her creamy skin, the perfect roundness of her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, her belly. The proportions of a warrior queen.
“You should. Look at yourself, that is. Right now, I want you to understand how you look through my eyes. These gorgeous, perfect tits that I already know taste like heaven. Your long, strong legs that are going to fit perfectly around my hips. This sweet ass I’ve been dreaming of for weeks.” Trailing a hand over her belly, he parted her curls, seeking ingress to the heart of her. “And this hot, wet pussy of yours—damn I already know it tastes so good but I can’t wait to feel it hugging my cock and squeezing every last drop of come from me.”
Her body undulated, her breaths came shallow, almost in pants. He stroked through her drenched pussy, coating his fingers with her wetness, getting her ready for what was to come.
She bit down on her lip. “Cal,” she whispered. “Please. Get naked.”
He removed his briefs and knelt back, parting her legs with one hand. “Show me how pretty you are.”
Her knees fell open, revealing her pink, glistening pussy and he almost swallowed his tongue. He placed a palm over her and used his heel to rub her roughly. She bucked off the bed, then started a grind against his palm.
“That’s—oh, God, Cal, that’s …”
Leaning over her, he captured her mouth in a kiss, needing that connection. Needing the sweet wind of tongue on tongue and lips on fire. He pushed one finger inside her, then another, stretching her. He had no doubt she could take him but he didn’t want her to have a single regret.
“Hurry,” she panted. “Don’t wait.”
“Don’t forget who’s the teacher, Mia.” He licked along the seam of her mouth, while his thumb found her clit and stroked. The combination of his fingers inside and that glance against that taut bundle of nerves made her clench hard. But he held back, needing to be inside her when she came again.
“Put the condom on me.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Yeah, you do. Show me how good you are at it. How good you are at fucking everything.”
She reached over and tore open the wrapper. Determination lit up her gaze and she tackled his cock with the condom with the focus he expected. Then she stroked it on and stroked his length, and it was his turn to almost keel over with the sheer wave of pleasure rolling through him.
He settled between her legs, notching at her entrance, nudging his way in. One inch, two. Shallow thrusts at first to get her used to him. There was hardly any resistance as he pushed deeper until finally, fuck, finally, he was all the way in.
“Mia, talk to me.”
“I—I don’t think I can.”
He pulled back. She grasped his ass and refused to let him leave, which suited him because he never, ever wanted to be anywhere else.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No. I expected—I don’t know what I expected. You feel like you belong.” She peered up at him, all wide-eyed innocence with a hint of knowledge about her power over him. He assumed that balance would tip soon. Eventually she would get that she was in charge here. That he was hers to win or lose, make or destroy.
She was right about one thing: he did belong. In this moment, this was the best place to be. The only place to be.
“Does it feel good?” she asked.
“You little witch, you know it does.”
She laughed, and that sound went straight to his heart because his cock was otherwise engaged in trying not to blow its top.
He moved out, thrust again, somehow finding another recess of depth inside her—or at least it felt that way. It felt like he could fuck her right through the bed and into her heart. Closing his eyes, he tried to will that sentiment away. He wasn’t who she wanted beyond this night of making her feel good. He would do well to remember it.
She wrapped a leg around him, opening her body up even further, tightening around him, and his next stroke almost broke him apart.
“Christ,” he moaned. “Never felt this good. Never felt—” He broke off there, because it seemed to capture the moment a little too closely. He had never felt, not with any other woman. How did she do this to him?
He intertwined his hand in hers and held tight, while with his other hand he gripped her ass. Their fucking continued, slow, steady, both of them feeling every breath and contraction and flutter. Usually he would break eye contact, needing to establish the rules, but there were no rules with Mia. There was only wet, erotic connection as they slowly fucked their way into each other’s sexual history.
He, her first.
She, his best.
Holding her tight, he dragged his cock along her clit on the return into her body, and with each stroke, she became more vocal, more agitated. Her inner walls tightened as she figured out the rhythm. She sucked on his lip, murmuring, yes and please and Cal, and he gave her everything in a quickened plunge-and-pull that sent her over before his own climax was ripped from him.
And in the process she ripped a piece of his heart out, too.
17
Mia opened her eyes to streaks of dawn light on her pillow and the most excellent ass she’d ever seen. Cal was picking up his clothes in the half dark.
Groggily, she leaned up on an elbow. “Trying to make your great escape?”
He scooped up a pair of jeans and sat on the bed. “I need to drive back and sneak into the hotel without anyone seeing me.”
She shifted under the covers, assessing if her body felt any different. Only her pulse rate, it seemed. Cal made her heart beat like a wild animal in her chest, even now when he was just being Cal. Now she understood how he was so successful with women—and why they forgave him every sin. No grievances allowed around a charmer like Foreman.
While he pulled his jeans on, she got a sneak peek of firm buttocks. Yum. Then a tee that said “No Flux Given” in the Back to the Future font and that sexy sweater.
She felt up his forearm. “This does things to me.”
“My sweater?”
“Uh huh. It’s sending me right now.”
He laughed, a warm sound that made her flush all over. Reaching over, he gentled her jaw. “How you feeling this morning?”
“You mean, do I feel like a woman? At last?”
He didn’t smile. “Just want to be sure you’re okay. I’m feeling a tad bruised myself from the workout—”
“Hey.” She punched his arm playfully. “You’re the one who wanted that third round. I was happy with two.”
“Liar. You were all over me.”
She sighed languorously. “I was, and proud of it. To answer your original query, I’m feeling fine. Very, um, satisfied.”
“We aim to please.” He rubbed a thumb over her lip. “You flying back to Chicago today?”
She had actually planned to rent a car and drive to Boston but now she couldn’t because clingy was not a good look.
“That was the plan.”
“Because I was thinking you might want to come see the game tonight.”
“You mean drive with you to Boston?”
His lips twitched. “Sure.”
“You’d tell people you were here?”
“Well, no. I was never here, Mia, not because of what happened last night but because I broke curfew. At the same time, I get why you’d want to keep this between us.”
It felt like they were talking about different secrets. He wasn’t trying to get rid of her but he needed to keep his sneaking away from the team hotel under wraps. Also he wouldn’t want anyone to know about them—because there was no them.
“It’s not really anyone’s business.”
His mouth set in a hyphen, and she suspected she’d said the wrong thing.
“No, it’s not. Look, you don’t have to come. I thought you might enjoy ninety minutes telling me how to attack the Cougars’ de
fense tonight.”
She sat up quickly. “You’d let me give you game pointers for the entire trip?”
“You’re just going to text them anyway, but I figured you’d like the in-person approach. How else could I tempt you into my car?”
She had a few ideas but this was equally as good. Damn skippy, she really liked Cal Foreman!
Maybe she shouldn’t go to Boston with him. Maybe he’d spend time with her in an enclosed space and not like her back.
But you don’t care about Foreman’s opinion of you. You only care about Tommy’s.
Hanging with Foreman like they were friends would send the right message—that she was a mature woman who could take a one-night stand with a hot guy in her stride.
“Give me five minutes.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She was ready in four.
Cal had no idea a woman could move that fast, but he should have known. Mia Wallace had game.
Fifteen minutes later, courtesy of a visit to the Dunkin on the corner, they were caffeinated, breakfast bagel’d, and on their way to Boston. To be honest, he was surprised she took him up on this offer, almost as surprised as the fact he’d offered it. Usually when the morning came, he craved the quiet but this morning he hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. He’d given her an out, tried not to sound desperate and here she was, syncing her music to the radio, tearing apart her second pastry—a pumpkin donut—and chatting about the evaluation camp. They hadn’t discussed it yet and he was curious about how it went.
Mostly he liked hearing her talk.
“Lindy must have given you a hint about your chances.”
“Coach Lindhoff did pull me aside after the last practice and said I did great and he couldn’t understand why I’m not on one of the NWHL teams. He sounded kind of annoyed about that, but I told him I don’t agree with how the female players are being treated.”
So she said but he knew there was more to the story. He put a pin in it for now. “But you think you did well enough to make the cut? Sure, I’ve no doubt you deserve it but these fuckers never seem to know their asses from their jockstraps.”
She smiled. “I think I did well. I know I did well. More important, I feel like I’m finally getting on track after—well, back to where I’m supposed to be.”
“After what?”
“Say again?”
“You said you’re finally getting on track after … and then you changed direction.” Pin popped. Here was the opening he needed. “What’s kept you off track, Mia?”
“I wanted to work with youth hockey.”
“No you didn’t.” He didn’t know what she wanted but he sure as hell knew coaching youth hockey was not her lifelong dream.
“Yes, I did. Girls’ hockey is one of the fastest growing extracurriculars and women in sport need to be nurtured.” Whenever she talked about her exploits post-college, it sounded rehearsed.
“You could have worked with any of the NWHL teams, Mia. You would have had a guaranteed spot on any one of those rosters. You have talent, legacy, guts, determination in spades. So they wouldn’t pay well but you don’t need the money and you could work from the inside to make that better, much better on the team than off it. Is it because of your asshole ex? Did he fuck up your brain and make you lose your confidence?”
She looked out the window. What was he missing here? Something was hinky about it.
“Those photos he shared. What happened when you reported it?”
“He said it was an accident.”
“And you believed him?”
“I—I don’t know. I just knew I didn’t trust him after that so we were finished. Once trust is broken … well, you know that.”
He did. “It can take a while to heal. Sometimes it never does.”
“Not everyone is like your former fiancée, Cal.”
He turned to her, then eyes back on the road. “I was talking about you.”
“Could just as easily apply to you. It’s been what? Five years. That’s a long time to be playing the field and avoiding anything real.”
“And you’re a bit young to be settling down.”
“Who says I’m settling down?”
“This guy you’re targeting? What happens when you land him? Live happily-ever-after?” The bitterness in his voice was impossible to mask.
“What’s wrong with happily-ever-after? I want that. I want to be the reason someone smiles when I walk into a room. I want someone who puts me first and thinks I’m the cat’s meow.”
He couldn’t fault her for that. Once this guy, whoever he was, got his head out of his ass, he’d see what had been in front of him all along. The girl of any man’s dreams.
“He’ll get it.”
“You think?”
“I know.” The words sounded rusty, scraped from this throat like a blade through ice. It made her flush, and he caught a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth before she looked out the window again.
The rest of the trip was spent talking hockey—Boston’s defense, Chicago’s flaws (Mia was spot on and had a canny insight into both)—and soon they were arriving on the outskirts of the city as the sun crawled higher into the crisp blue sky. Traffic was as bad as he remembered but eventually they exited the highway and wound their way through semi-busy streets.
“I have an errand to run, so I’ll drop you off at the hotel.”
“What’s the errand?”
“Some business I have to take care of.”
Her eyes danced with curiosity. “That sounds mysterious! Is it something to do with your family? I know your parents live in Florida but you must have cousins or other relatives in town.”
“Yeah, I do, but that’s not what it’s about. I’ll drop you off.”
“Is it private?” She sounded hurt to be out of the loop, and he found himself wanting to share it with her. It was an important part of his life after all.
“It’s not private. But if you come along I need you to reserve judgment.”
Her hand went to her throat. “I’m the least judgmental person on the planet.”
“Says the woman who put up a fake post asking the world if I’m a dick.”
“Fake post, real world events, and I wasn’t judging. I was seeking the judgment of our peers. Big difference.”
Sure. Ten minutes later, they were navigating the tony streets of Boston’s Back Bay. “Shout if you see a spot.”
“There!” She pointed to where someone was leaving.
“Atta girl.”
Once parked, they walked half a block to their destination. He pressed the buzzer and was immediately let in. Up three flights of stairs to the top apartment, then the door flew open and a bundle of joy on four legs attacked him.
“Bobby O!” Cal fell to his knees and hugged his best friend in the whole world. The little brown and white Jack Russell terrier licked his face.
“Haven’t you been feeding him?” He peered up at the woman standing at the door. She looked good but then she always did.
“He’s just glad to see you.”
Still on the floor, he turned to Mia, who was staring, slowly becoming aware of the situation. How’s that no judgment thing working out, sweetheart?
He waved between them. “This is Mia Wallace. Mia, meet Bethany Garland.”
18
Oh my God, the ex. The one who broke his brain.
Petite, blond, and blue-eyed—Foreman definitely had a type—Bethany was instantly recognizable from Mia’s light Internet research. (Oh, shut up.) More to the point, she was gorgeous.
She moved forward, hand outstretched. “Vadim’s sister? How is he these days?”
“Yeah. I am.” Thanks for reminding everyone. Mia took the offered hand, squeezed once, and let go. “He’s fine. Absolutely fine.”
Bethany shot a quick look at Cal, a perfectly valid query as to why Mia was visiting at all.
Cal understood, probably because they had the unspoken communication thing down
. “She had her Olympics tryout at Biddeford.”
“Oh, how’d it go?”
“Good. I think.” And then I lost my virginity to your ex-fiancé. Go me!
“Well, come on in. I’ve got coffee going.” She headed inside while Cal turned to Mia, his face surprisingly blank considering the circumstances.
“We share custody of Bobby O.” As if that explained a damn thing.
Mia looked down at the bright-eyed dog, who was obviously thrilled to see his daddy. “Named for Bobby Orr.”
“Best player ever.”
“My dog is already named after the best player ever, Foreman.” She peered down at this puppy, who was awfully cute. “No offense, buddy.”
Cal covered the dog’s ears. “Don’t listen to the mean lady.” His eyes twinkled, all golden and shiny like his canine friend.
She glanced at the open doorway then back at Foreman. “Is it okay I’m here?”
“Sure it is. I wanted you to meet this little guy. But … be nice, okay?”
Be nice to the woman who cheated on him. Got it. They’d broken up five years ago yet here was Cal still visiting with his ex.
Must be a special dog.
Inside, Bethany was setting another coffee mug down at the table laid with croissants and pastries. Oh, well, Mia was on her post-tryout diet now. The apartment was beautifully bright and spacious, with gorgeous furnishings, south-facing windows, and an enviable view.
She wondered if Cal paid for it. Mia’s Google-fu had revealed something about Cal’s ex working in PR for a diet supplements company. No one made money in PR.
“This place is fantastic.”
“Thanks, it belongs to my parents. So tell me all about your tryout.” Bethany plunged the French press of coffee. “Cal, babe, could you do the honors?”
“Sure. Mia, have a seat.” While Cal poured the coffee, Mia launched into an animated babble about her time in Biddeford, while keeping an eye out for signs of domesticity. Every now and then she reached out to pet Bobby O to fill any awkward pauses and keep her hands busy.
