by Susan Arden
She flexed her hips, bearing down on his dick. Shivers coupled with pinpricks of sweat spread over his body when he held back from thrusting fully inside her. Cory’s pussy squeezed him, but the rolling of her hips had him groaning against her neck. She whimpered his name, as he pulled her to him. Her scent surrounded him and the feel of her silky skin had him driving his length into her. He closed his eyes, thrusting all the way into her, then stopped and savored the sensation of her tightly wrapped around him. He opened his eyes and gazed down at her.
“So sweet,” he said. “I won’t be able to stop once I get going. You ready?”
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.” Her pussy felt like liquid fire around him and had him gritting his teeth.
He pushed up, caging her between his palms pressing down on either side of her shoulders on the mattress. “Want to take my time but I don’t think that’s possible.”
Brett began flexing his hips back, letting his cock slowly pull from her. Then at the moment when her eyes began rolling back, an electrical burst of pleasure erupted across his body. Fuck, this felt so perfect. She was wet and warm, and her muscles squeezed him. She had to be close. They were both almost there. So fucking there.
“Please,” Cory whimpered under him, her tied wrists around his neck and he growled, his cock poised at her entrance.
“Baby,” he breathed out, thrusting back inside her with such force his whole body shuddered. “I’m coming for you.”
Brett set the rhythm hard and fast, entering her deeper each time. She was so amazing to fuck and watch and fuck. In that order. The way she bit her lip, moaned his name, as her eyelashes fluttered had him riding the edge of bursting. For her he held back. God, he needed to feel her orgasm. The way she melted around his cock, then her muscles gripped him. He lifted her bound wrists off his neck to hold her arms above her head, grinding his hips against hers, making his cock go as deep as he could into her warm, wet pussy.
“Give me what I want,” he groaned. “All of you. Now, Cory.”
She was almost there. Squeezing around him skintight, their bodies slide over each other’s. Rocking his hips, he pumped his cock inside her. He lived for the feel of her body-hugging deliverance.
“So close. Just. Like. That,” she whispered against his skin.
Oh, he knew what that meant, and he slammed into her with a hard one-two-three pattern.
“That’s it. I love when you squeeze me. Swollen, and so slick around my cock.” He leaned on his shoulder, angling their bodies so he could hit just the right spot that made her clench tighter around him. “That’s it. I know you’re almost ready to explode. Aren’t you?”
Her eyes searched his face as he spread his palms over her tits and thumbed her nipples.
“I’m about to lose control,” Cory ground out the words, her breathy voice stoking his fire even hotter.
“Who does this to you?” he whispered, sucking the skin along her neck. He lifted his head and moved over her, capturing her face between his hands. “Beautiful, who?”
“Only you,” she moaned, her eyes nearly black with a rim of bright blue. “You do this to me.”
Damn. He nearly lost it himself. He began to hurl his body against Cory. Reaching down, he hiked up her bottom until he was lost in a woman who held the key to his heart, his mind, his soul.
They fell back against the bed, Cory wrapped within his arms, and laid together for minutes. When his breath returned, he reached over and gently untied her arms, rubbing his hands over the marks on her wrists.
“If I could, I’d marry you tomorrow,” he whispered soft and low. I’d love you with all my heart and come home to you. Always. Never would I be unfaithful. I’d build you a home to raise our babies and be there if you wanted to travel the world. Just come back to me. You’ve managed to steal my heart and, girl, don’t you ever give it back. It’d be nice if you didn’t trample it ‘cause I don’t think it would ever heal. Not after it has you tattooed all over it.
“Baby,” he breathed out, then kissed the side of her sleeping face.
Getting out of bed, he untied one of her ankles, then the other. He went to the kitchen to get her medication and came back with a glass of water. She gazed up at him hugging her pillow.
“I love you,” she said, sitting up. The sheet fell away from her breasts. Perfect and the size that fit as though made for his palms.
“Is that because I know how to get you gone?”
“Yes and no. You’re the most amazing person I’ve met. Thank you for staying with me and taking care of me.”
He knelt down by the bedside, handing over her water glass and opened the medicine bottle, shaking out a pill onto his palm. “You gonna be all right? I can stay as long as you need me to.”
“I’ll be fine. You’ve got to get ready for playoffs.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I’m a bawl-baby, is why,” she choked.
“I got you.” He rose and pulled the sheet upward and slid in next to her. “Come here.” He put his arm under her shoulders and pulled her close to him. Picking up her hand, he kissed the inside of her palm, inhaling the fragrance of her perfume. “I love your scent. It stays with me for hours. It’s like having a secret part of you with me.”
“Same with you,” Cory murmured.
He kissed the side of her head, closing his eyes, and memorizing the feel of every inch of her body, the way her voice sounded when she sighed, and her funny little habit of shaking her feet when she was nervous. He’d miss every part of her, but to tell her would do what? Make both of them more lonely and miserable. “Only a week before finals. You’ll be so busy the time will fly. Soon we’ll be together for Christmas in Texas. One more game, and I’ve two weeks free.”
She traced his mouth. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to fly out and see you play.”
“Hush. You can’t miss your mom’s last appointment and I wouldn’t want you to. Just cheer me on…” He grinned and then kissed her, going from tender and sweet, to domineering in how he took and explored her mouth, sucked her lips, and tasted her tongue. He brushed his lips over hers, whispering, “And be ready when I get back home.”
CHAPTER 29
The last week back on campus and Cory flowed within her structured schedule of classes, her internship work, studying, and Skyping with Brett every night. Classified as well into the groove, Cory sat at her desk, rapidly typing up the notes from the recent slew of research she’d received from other universities. Just one day before the end of classes and she had to transform the raw data into neatly coded tables and disseminate it before winter break officially commenced. She’d envisioned sleeping late for the next three weeks. When she thought of Brett’s ability to keep her up all night, a hot blush spread on her cheeks. Quickly, she refocused on the computer file displayed on her screen instead of fantasizing about Brett’s capacity to drive her insane.
A newspaper clipping stapled to the corkboard by her desk caught her eye. A photograph of Brett, and a story about the Devils making the final round in the playoffs. Clipped and delivered by Dr. Peterson. The swarm of butterflies took flight in the pit of her stomach and she stopped staring at Brett’s photograph, taken of him catching a pass surrounded by a mob of players. Now one more game. This Sunday would determine which teams were going to the Super Bowl.
Cory clicked her computer mouse over several files, uploading them into an email. Picking up her phone, she cradled the receiver between her shoulder and cheek, punching in the number of the one person she considered her savior in making sense of all the findings that poured into the department nonstop. Jessica’s number was busy. Well, why not? Market analysis queen and Dr. Carathers’ assistant, Jessica was working on her senior project in identifying marketing trends. She and Jessica had met at the grant proposal meeting and really connected when UCLA began promoting the market survey online to all seniors. When other California universities picked
up the grant program to conduct online surveys, they were cemented together in late-night work sessions.
Cory punched in Jessica’s extension again. “Good morning, Dr. Carathers’ office,” a woman’s voice answered. Cory relaxed her shoulders at the sound of Jessica’s Brooklyn accent and rapid-fire words.
“Help!” Cory croaked. “I’m sending over the files. Data is pretty raw.”
“No problem. I hooked up with one of the comp sci nerds. We are so ready to rock this research.”
“That’s why I adore you. Work your magic.”
“Hit me. I’m up and running with the new software,” Jessica replied.
“Cory, where is the detailed analysis?” Dr. Peterson’s voice hit a frazzled note.
“Gotta go. Dr. P. needs me.”
Jessica laughed. “As always.”
Cory hung up, and was up and out of her seat, power walking into the office. “No worries. Right here.” She cocked her head at Dr. Peterson, who had stopped flipping through the files on her desk. She walked farther into her advisor’s office, over to the credenza now organized with storage shelving. “All the market research has been moved.”
“Right. Eventually, I’ll remember,” Dr. Peterson muttered. “For now, I’ll just keep yelling. Point me in the right direction.”
“We’re a team. And you will get this system if you stop fighting it.” Cory laughed, then touched the third shelf down from the top. “Green folders with blue labels. The legend for the filing system is tacked up to the wall. Plain view.”
Dr. Peterson adjusted her glasses, and squinted at the laminated sign Cory tapped. “What will I do this summer?” her advisor asked.
Cory crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow. “Why? Where are you going?” She could smell this conversation a mile away. Dr. Peterson loved to bring up the subject, or more like drop a bomb, that Paris was the place to be during the summer. Her advisor’s tenacity was mind-boggling.
“Right now, that depends on what you decide. I guess I can spend my time around here, learning the filing system. Or, we both could be in France and doing a bang-up job showing Paris how to garner university students’ attention and market savvy.”
“Is that really fair?” Cory huffed. “I don’t understand, if Mr. Bennett is so up and up, why don’t you and Dr. Carathers just fly to Paris and take France by storm? I should be inconsequential to the endowment.”
Dr. Peterson leaned against the credenza. “It doesn’t work that way. If Ryder is trying to atone for a mistake and you brush aside his gesture, then it doesn’t speak to moving ahead. Why not let me at least relay to Ryder what the holdup is.”
“I don’t owe him an explanation, and I don’t want him to know my family’s personal business.” She adamantly refused to discuss with Ryder Bennett her mother’s health. That man would make some benevolent but thoughtless offer, like he’d already done. She didn’t share with Dr. Peterson or Brett that she’d gotten several flower arrangements, emails, and other sorts of offers from Ryder Bennett. And none of them sounded professional, or like an attempt to mend any fences damaged by his past behavior. It was all a blatant attempt to seduce her and, from what she could tell, the more she refused to talk with him, the more ambitious his offers became.
If Ryder Bennett knew her mother had health issues, he’d do something outrageous. Maybe in his egotistical mind it might be construed as magnanimous, but not in Brett’s, and certainly not in her father’s. Texans didn’t appreciate being shoved aside because someone with more money might know a “better” way. Now she felt caught in the middle between UCLA and Ryder Bennett. And everyone on the sidelines was cheering her on to take Mr. Bennett’s offer. If only they knew the truth.
Dr. Peterson began thumbing through the files in the upright filing system. “You’ve done a remarkable job here in just a couple of weeks.”
Cory turned toward the window. “Thanks. I hope it makes finding things easier. No more ham sandwiches lost in files.”
“You haven’t said, how is your mom doing?”
“I just received the news that her doctor said the tests all came back looking really good.”
“The chemo worked?”
“Thank goodness it did what it was supposed to, and she has only one session left. Everyone is praying she’ll be all better. Before I couldn’t make plans for the summer without knowing how the treatment would affect my mother’s health. I still can’t until I know for sure that she’s fine.”
“Did you speak with Brett about your plans? If your mom is fine,” Dr. Peterson went to sit at her desk. She removed her glasses and tossed them on a file, then rubbed her eyes. “No one is saying it would be easy to spend the entire summer apart from your fiancé.”
“I hear a distinct but...” Cory said, still gazing out the window at the green trees.
“No buts. I hope you know, we all have plenty to keep us busy right here. You’re free to choose.”
“Am I? Doesn’t feel like I am with so much riding on my decision.” The university had already listed the endowment as a possibility to attract future students. The funding would be matched by another anonymous backer. If this was freedom, she didn’t like it one bit.
She stared at a flock of birds that had landed. Arriving from some northern part, and looking for a place to rest and find food. Southern California had year-round mild weather, and before she’d arrived Cory had believed L.A. would be the place she’d find her footing. Now it felt like a prison, and she was forced to carry the weight of a burden that depleted her excitement and desire to spread her wings.
Back home, the trees would have dropped their leaves by now. Except Mama would have them raked up and carted to the burn pile for a big bonfire. She’d heard the family had held off doing the customary winter festival until next week. Mama was on her last course of chemo treatment today. She’d call her tonight. If the next round of tests all came back good, officially her mom would no longer be classified as a potential cancer victim. She’d be a survivor.
Please, Cory prayed.
She looked up at the sky and wondered what Brett was doing. Just about nine in the morning in Dallas, and he’d be at the training facility. Couldn’t imagine him daydreaming about her. She sighed and turned around.
“Jessica is loading the research into the program and the reports will be available before I take off. Anything else you need before we officially begin our winter break?” she asked.
“Just one thing,” Dr. Peterson said, drawing out a bag from under her desk. “A little something.”
Cory tilted her head. “I thought you said you didn’t believe in Christmas presents.”
“Don’t. Who says this is for any specific holiday?” Dr. Peterson held out a gift bag.
“Well, we won’t discuss the holiday theme on the bag. Hold on a sec. I found something in the bottom of my closet that had your name on it.” Cory went to her desk and lifted her own bag. She removed the wrapped present and returned to Dr. P’s office. “Merry non-holiday.”
Dr. Peterson shook the box. “What is it?”
“Just open it and you’ll find out.” Cory sat down and peeked inside the gift bag and spied a white envelope.
Dr. Peterson smirked. “Mine isn’t so simple. It comes with directions. I want you to open that when you’re rested. Back home. Kick up your heels and relax, then open it. Promise me.”
“Cross my heart. I will.” Cory drew an imaginary ‘X’ over her heart. “There’s no limits on mine. I want you to open it now so I can see your expression.”
Dr. Peterson nodded and began tearing off the wrapping paper. She opened the box and spread apart the tissue paper.
“Priceless!” She stood up and held the jersey up to shoulders. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re ready for game day.”
“Number 88. And look, Brett signed it. I’ll be ready now.” Dr. Peterson came over and hugged Cory.
“He
asked that you know his jersey comes with a ticket to the big game.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He had a block of tickets and not everyone in my family can go, or rather deserves to go. He’s aware you really love the game.”
“I’ll call him and let him know how much I adore my non-holiday gift. Are you flying up to New York for this game?”
“Can’t. My mom’s test results are due in and the doctor will let us know if she’s officially out of the woods. There’s a support group of women going, and I just can’t miss it.”
~~~
Arriving home on Sunday morning, Cory made the rounds of visiting those family and friends who would not be present to watch the football game at the Double Diamond. Unable to attend the division championship, Cory rounded up enough people to host their own shindig to celebrate Brett’s team making it this far. She walked into the packed bar and went straight to the table her brother had reserved. Stephen, Brandon, Rory, and Matt stood up as she approached.
“Looks to be a good game,” Matt said, reaching out his arms to her. She hugged them all and grabbed a seat between Stephen and Carolina.
“Baby news?” Cory asked Carolina.
“Um, we’re sleeping partway through the night.”
“And your mom? She didn’t want to come?” Cory asked.
“She’s enthralled with her grandchildren. Any excuse to get them alone. She said she’ll see you on Christmas and give you all her marriage advice.”
“I’ll welcome all she can spare. Looks to be good, considering who you’re married to.”
Carolina raised her glass of water. “Here. Here.”
Rory called out, “Hey sis, you drinking tonight?”
“Is that a challenge?” Cory asked. She’d had plenty of nights where she and Rory had come to the Diamond and she could hold her own.
Her twin could outshoot her in pool, but she owned the dartboard. She’d learned long ago which brother she could outdrink and outplay. So far, Stephen continued to beat her on every level. Brandon she could take on in cards because he got bored with anything that required him to sit. Matt hated the crowds that formed in darts. Miller was the only brother she could actually outdrink, simply because he only drank Scotch and any time she forced shots on him, she won on the technicality of his nonparticipation. At least that’s what she proclaimed.
