by Aja Cole
“It’s not like I could control that. This was definitely a surprise to me too.”
“The moment you decided to lie about who you were, it became something you could control.” She was stoic. Shit. I was starting to have doubts that anything I said would go over well.
“Daya. Honestly. If we’d talked more about things that didn’t revolve around sex, I’m pretty sure we would’ve figured out all the details and connections quickly. I’m sorry that I lied, I know that’s a big problem and I want you to know that I was trying to figure out how to tell you. It was seriously fucking bad luck that you found out the way you did, but I wasn’t going to hide it from you much longer. You were adamant that you didn’t want anything, so no matter how I approached it in this situation, it would’ve sucked for you.”
She was silent, staring at the table. Then she spoke, and damn, my spirits lifted a little.
“Okay. I accept responsibility for only caring about details about you in a sexual capacity. If we’d actually gotten to know each other more, or hell, if I’d cared about your face- I would’ve known for myself who you were. It’s hard to wrap my head around there being so many guys in the world, but you end up being linked to me this way.”
“Maybe it’s meant to be,” I offer, refusing to look away when she doesn’t crack a smile. We stare at each other that way, and I hope she sees my remorse at how I handled things in my eyes. I didn’t know if my eyes were that expressive, but I needed all the help I could get.
“It’s something,” she murmurs, taking her plate and rising from the table. After a second of hesitation, she picks up mine too and takes them both to the kitchen then comes back. “I didn’t know you played hockey. But you knew things about me.”
“If I remember correctly, I asked things about you.” I didn’t want to make her feel bad, but it was true. I’d been more curious about her than she’d been about me. It was just the nature of our relationship. It’d taken her a bit to get comfortable being open about what she wanted and liked from me. I was the forward one at first.
She blew out a breath, and my eyes flew to her lips. They were plush, and one of my favorite features. The first time she’d sent me a picture, I remember telling her that I bet those lips would feel amazing on my dick.
With her right there, it was hard for the image of her on her knees in front of me to not come to mind. Those brown eyes looking up at me, framed by her thick lashes as I tangled a hand in her tight curls.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she frowned.
“Like what?”
“Like you have a chance.”
I couldn’t help the burst of laughter. I could always count on her for a comeback. Banter was sexy to me too. Everything involving Daya appealed to me.
But I could tell she was softening. She might not have completely forgiven me, but even her posture was more relaxed. All I could do was make sure she knew I was sincere in my remorse and that I would be completely transparent from now on.
I needed her to know I meant business.
Pushing back my chair, I kept my gaze on hers as I walked around the table, enjoying the flare of awareness in her gaze even as she scooted her chair away as I got near.
“What?” she demanded.
Instead, I dropped to my knees and wedged myself between her thighs. It was comical how she was leaning back to avoid touching me. I took her hands and held them tight when she tried to pull them away.
“Daya,” I kissed the middle of one palm, “I meant it when I said that I was sorry. I handled this badly, there are a lot of things we could’ve done differently. But I want to try to move past that. I want you to give whatever this is, a chance.” I kissed the other palm.
I could see she was seriously conflicted.
With me on my knees and her sitting, our faces were level, and I framed her face gently with my hands. Stroking my thumbs over her cheeks, I took my time pulling her to me so she knew exactly what was coming.
“Can we start over?” I whispered, our mouths so close that I could feel her small exhalations against my lips. I wouldn’t do anything more until she answered. And if she said no, I’d respect that. I wanted it to be her choice this time.
I waited, holding her like that; feeling like my heart was going to beat out of my chest.
8
Daya
My heart was going to pound right out of my chest.
Feeling Greyson’s hands on me for the first time was scrambling my thoughts.
I didn’t want to just let him off the hook. It was too important. It felt like if I said yes…if I allowed us to try to go from scratch…something would change. I didn’t know if I was ready for that. I didn’t know if I wanted whatever that would be.
But with him kneeling in front of me, sincere and wanting me…anything seemed possible. It scared me how much I wanted to throw caution to the wind; how much I wanted to take the anxiousness in his eyes away.
I was still mad at him dammit!
I could hold a grudge. I could be stubborn about it, and just move on.
If I was honest though…I was scared of being disappointed, but would I regret not taking the opportunity since it was right in front of me?
It wasn’t a simple situation.
There was Faith to think about.
He was a hockey player.
I was a hermit on a good day and a complete bear on a bad one.
But his lips were so close…his body was so solid and strong, keeping me in my spot. And his thumbs stroking my face…
Why not just let myself give in this once?
“We can try.” I relent softly, hesitant to give a full green light but wanting to capture that moment of possibility.
“That’s all I ask,” I barely hear the words, too focused on the first press of his lips on mine. Our lips find a space between each other’s and I suckle lightly as he pulls back. Again and again, we explore the perfect way to taste each other, angling our heads and nipping delicate skin with impatient teeth. I can’t help but moan, clutching his neck with one hand and running my hands through his hair with the other.
Our bodies are pressed together, and I shiver from the desire starting to build. He’s all male, everything that I imagined so far, and I’m starting to lose control of my thoughts. I start remembering every sexual thing he’s said to me.
I wish I could bend you over that sink and fuck you.
I bet those lips would feel amazing on my dick.
I could warm up your nipples with my mouth.
I won’t fuck you until you beg me.
The memories only serve to send me into overdrive, and I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding my body against him. We devour each other, pulling away only for the barest of air before diving into more maddening kisses. I abandon his lips to breathe in his scent, burying my face in his neck and licking at his pulse as I bite into sensitive flesh. Kissing my way to his ear, I nibble on his lobe, lightly rimming his ear with my tongue. That one move makes him dig his hands into my ass in delicious pleasure and my gasp mingles with his low groan.
“Wait, Daya, wait,” I don’t want to wait. I want to keep tasting his skin. Skimming my lips over his stubble covered jaw, I kiss him again. He doesn’t resist, and for long moments, I’m lost in him. But too soon, it’s ending.
“Hey,” he frames my face with his large palms again and I want to sink into his touch like a kitten, “We’ve got time to explore this. I want to talk a little first. I don’t want us to sleep together until we know a few more things about each other.”
It felt like I heard a record scratch.
Was he serious?
“Are you serious?” The disbelief in my voice is clear as day.
“I know my timing is bad,” he gives me quick kiss and laughs when I try to follow his mouth as he pulls away, “But we need to do this part a bit differently than how we started things.”
Some part of me knows that his suggestion is a very smart one, but damn…I was so re
ady.
I let him lead me by the hand to the couch, where he pulls me down so I’m sitting across his lap with my back to the armrest and my legs resting over his thighs.
I’d pegged him as a patient guy, when it came to sex. Never had I gotten the impression that he was pushy or didn’t spend ample time making sure his partner felt good.
I hadn’t really thought past that. So seeing such a logical side, where he wanted to talk before jumping into things…it was new…and attractive- albeit frustrating to my libido.
“So…what do you want to talk about?” I questioned, playing with a thread on my pants. It was kind of awkward now for me, sitting across this guy’s lap that I knew I wanted in my bed but that I was missing an entire backstory for. It’d been almost 4 years since I let myself be so close in proximity to someone, and even then, it hadn’t been for long. I’d just been filling my occasional need for intimate human contact. But once it was satisfied…I retreated back into my bubble. The one time I’d had something similar to a relationship with a guy, he’d wanted all my time. Wanted to be around me constantly. It put me off having more with others after him.
“What’s your full name? Do you have any siblings? I know you do a lot of freelance work, and you seem to be pretty good at it. I know you’re sexy as hell.” He flashes that smile and I roll my eyes even though he’s so damn cute.
“It’s Daya Mandisa Kinkaid, and I have two older brothers and one younger sister.”
“Are y’all close?”
I shrug. It’s definitely not something I want to get into.
“It’s complicated. So you and Faith share a dad? I’ve known her for about 5 years but you’ve only come up in the last 2. And what’s your full name?”
He raises a brow but respects me shifting focus. I hope it’s something I never have to share with him. Family dynamics isn’t high on my list of things I ever want to discuss.
“Greyson Cole Mathieson, and yeah…Faith and I have the same dad. I’m older than her by a year, but we didn’t know about each other until about 2 and a half years ago. My dad played pro hockey too…but he also kept a secret girlfriend and child that my mom had no idea about.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Both right here in New York too. Still can’t quite figure out how he did it without any suspicion, but my mom divorced him the minute she found out. You know how weird it is for your mom to call you about dating advice?” I giggle at the horror on his face. I’m imagining this sweet middle aged woman asking Greyson about what it’s like to date in the digital age.
“Daya, it’s terrible. She asked me what Tinder was, and then asked if I’d heard of Grindr. I’m scarred for life.” My body is shaking from his laughter and mine. “So anyways, when my mom told me I had a sister, I reached out immediately. Luckily, Faith wanted to meet me too and now we’re here. Feels like we grew up together, so that’s nice.”
“Yeah,” I nod, “It’s good to have a sibling you get along with.” I knew my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. See, that was the problem with talking to people. Things just came out.
“You don’t get along with yours?”
“So do you still talk to your dad?” He narrows his blue eyes when I blatantly skirt his question, but I just don’t want to go there. I’d have to much more careful.
“Here and there. I think the easiest way to describe it is I don’t respect him as my father, or as a man anymore – but he has coached me most of my life with Hockey. So when we talk, it’s about that. My mom got this place in the divorce, and she and Faith’s mom share ownership. I think they’ve become pretty good friends actually. It’s odd shit. But I guess they get to bond over being blind-sighted by my dad.”
Damn. I thought things like that only happened in movies and rom-coms. I guess if you were going to bond over something, a cheating husband was as good a thing as any.
“So I guess you’re a pretty good hockey player.” I knew he was great. I’d looked him up. Not only did he have the skill to back him up, but he was known for being a team player and a motivator on the ice. A leader, even being younger than some of his teammates.
He laughed, flashing that carefree smile again.
“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty good. I’m always working to be better though. When I’m gone in the early morning and afternoon, it’s off-season stuff. Once the season starts, the physical demands will be brutal and you’ll have a bad time if you’re not in damn near perfect form. No long summer vacation for us.”
“So what do you go to California for?”
“Practice. Some golf. We unofficially go as a team to get in more team playing before everyone has different things going on. We work as a team then, and then separate and work more on individual conditioning and developing personal strengths and weaknesses.”
“I know jack-shit about hockey,” I offer. And I really don’t. It looked like a more violent form of ice skating. And I imagined the arenas would be cold as hell. Why would I voluntarily subject myself to that when the cold in the North was bad enough on its own? No thanks.
“Well I know a thing or two,” he winks, “so I can fill in the gaps for you. You should come to a game. It’s the first season Faith will be home too. It’ll be nice to have two gorgeous girls rooting for me.” He tips my chin up, planting a soft kiss on my lips and I sigh.
It feels so easy.
And I know there’s no way it can truly be so easy.
It never is.
9
Greyson
I’d suspected that really talking to Daya wouldn’t take much effort. She was super laid back and I was enjoying the familiarity of knowing the intimacy was there, but it was mixed with the excitement of finding out everything else about her.
The things she’d address, at least.
Her avoiding talking much about her family made me even more curious, but the last thing I wanted to do was ignore that boundary and undo the progress we’d made.
But maybe we’d get there. Meanwhile, there were plenty of things we hadn’t talked about. And I found myself completely engrossed in her words as the night went on and we traded stories and preferences. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss a single shred of information, spoken and unspoken.
Watching the tiny dimple that appeared near the corner of her mouth when she laughed…noticing how small her ears were…how her eyes were a lighter brown than I’d thought…the joy that lit up her eyes when she talked about how much she enjoyed writing.
All of it made me realize I wanted more than I could admit. Something told me she’d run far and fast if I even hinted at having more serious intentions. I needed to be sure before I said anything, so I wasn’t going to rush it. Maybe it was just a product of being near her finally and things would flame out once we actually had sex.
I didn’t doubt that I’d stay fond of her. She was cool as hell, but maybe my feelings would fade to that of a good casual friend I occasionally had sex with. Who knew? It was still early. Nothing on that level needed to be rushed.
The important matter at hand would be making sure she stayed interested in exploring everything we’d talked about, even when Faith and Ryan returned. I wasn’t sure where she stood on Faith knowing, especially since Faith didn’t know I was the guy she’d been sexting. Had she even told Faith she was talking to anyone?
“Did you tell Faith you were talking to me when I was just Cole?”
She looked at me quickly then looked away.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, she knows about Cole. She even mentioned it was weird to think about because her brother’s middle name was Cole too. That little tidbit helped me piece things together.”
“You didn’t show her our conversations, did you? That’ll be so weird when she knows I’m actually the guy.” Daya wouldn’t look at me and I realized something. “Holy shit, you did more than show her the conversations…you showed her pictures.”
FUCK, that’s embarrassing
She gave me an apologetic smile, hol
ding her hands up even as she laughed some.
“She’s my best friend! How was I supposed to know Cole’s dick and her brother’s dick were one and the same?”
“Ah no, that’s horrifying,” I grimace, wanting to gag. Jesus. I don’t even want to think about what was said, and as Daya opens her mouth, I clap my hand gently over it. “Don’t you dare.”
There’s pure mischief sparkling in those brown eyes and for a second, it feels like I stop breathing. The moment passes but I still stare at her, and her gaze fills with something entirely different. I feel her tongue licking against my hand and the blood starts rushing straight to my cock.
I remove my hand from her mouth, instead pressing down on her pouty bottom lip with my thumb, leaving her open for my tongue when I kiss her. I’m starting to become addicted to how she tastes, even though it’s nothing I can pinpoint.
I just know I want more, and I take it.
Twisting a hand in her hair, I kiss her like a starving man. Her low whimpers feed my hunger and I’m consumed by her. All the pent up frustration from the night before and months past fade in the face of being able to hold her curvy body. I pull back just a little, and she tries to follow but I tease her again by tightening my grip in her hair.
“This isn’t talking,” I brush my mouth just barely over hers as I speak.
“I’m done talking,” she breathes.
“What if I have more to say,” my mouth finds its way to the warm crook of her neck and I rest there, feeling the rapid flutter under her skin.
“Say it with your body then.”
She says it like the answer is obvious and I hide a smile. Maybe it’s time to put us both out of our misery.
“Why didn’t you say so?” I tease. She gasps as I spring up from the couch with her in my arms. ”Your room or mine?”
“Mine, and quick before you drop me,” she sounds nervous and I roll my eyes. It was insulting that the thought crossed her mind. I’d bench press her if I didn’t think she’d flail around and make me drop her.
