by Zoe York
He ducked his head and caught one dusky tip between his lips.
Her body arched, a tense bow pulled taut.
With an exhale, he breathed warm air on her flesh, then swallowed more, gently sucking more of her breast into his mouth. Her already tight nipple hardened against his tongue, and he worked against it, imagining how that might feel for her.
He found her other breast with his hand, a small, perfect fit against his palm.
He traced the shape of her, his hands spreading wide across her skin, trying to touch as much of her as he could. When he’d tasted his fill of her breasts and she was panting, he unzipped her jeans and worked them off her hips. He eased them down her legs to her ankles, then stripped out of his own clothes as he stood at the foot of the bed.
She hooked her thumbs in her panties, and he nodded. “Those, too.”
Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed a condom from his bag, turned on a light so he could see her better, and crawled between her legs. He kissed his way up her inner thighs, where she was soft and flushed pink. Then the darker skin at the apex, where curls framed her sex.
The sight of his hands against her flesh here, his fingers big and blunt against her sweet, sensitive parts, lit him up in a new and primal way. It was obscene and wonderful at the same time.
Her fingers tangled into his hair, urging him closer—not that he needed it. Fuck, he just wanted to take his time, but she needed his mouth on her, and he couldn’t deny her that.
The first taste of her was tart, then sweet as he slid his tongue between her lips. He traced the curve of her pussy, from the outer lips in to where she was slick, around her entrance, then up to her clit.
She breathed harder when he got there, whispering his name, and then single word guidance. More. Yes. There. Yes, there. Oh.
Will.
He felt it more than heard it, the way she sighed his name as he closed his whole mouth over her clit, his nose buried in her mound, and pulled. A gentle suck, a steady pressure, and then she started to roll, grind against him, rock.
He held still and worshipped her sex and she rode his face to a shuddering orgasm. He slid his tongue down to where she gushed for him, a slippery release that teased him, lured him to rise up on his knees and sheath his cock.
The first taste of her mouth, raspberry and mango, lingered on his lips as he gazed down on her in silent wonder. Her bra hung around her waist, her legs were spread wide for him. They’d gone from kissing in the garden to being naked on his bed, and they hadn’t said very much.
He had so much he wanted to say, and it overwhelmed him.
But how the scent of her was imprinted on his face, his cock throbbed in his hand, and she was smiling shyly up at him.
“I’m ready,” she whispered.
It was all he needed to hear—for now.
He slid into her, an inch at first, then as she adjusted to him, more length. Slow, agonizingly good pulses of his hips until he was firmly seated in her body. She shook in his arms and made the best sounds, alternating between panting his name and warning him to be quiet.
He wasn’t the loud one in bed, but he grinned nonetheless and covered her mouth with his hand. This time when he thrust deep into her, her groan was for his ears only, reverberating against his skin as he muffled it. He couldn’t wait to get her alone in his house, where she could be as noisy as she wanted.
They found a rhythm together, her hand reaching up to brace against the headboard, his arms wrapped around her. His thighs braced against the backs of her legs, his knees wide on the mattress.
A few hours ago, they’d both been exhausted. Now he felt like he could fuck her all night. Harder, faster. Make her come again, then flip her around. He wanted her in every position. The thought of her ass in the air made his hips jerk twice, seeking even more of her tight squeeze.
Her teeth sank into the fleshy part of his palm, just enough to jolt him. His cock liked that, too, flexing and swelling inside her at the fresh burst of sensation.
And then she gasped, her head rolling back. He dropped his mouth to tasted her neck, and he felt her cry through the corded muscle there.
“Come for me,” he whispered. “Let me feel it.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her hips, and he lost it, too, his own orgasm a sudden, barreling-down-on-him surprise.
Darkness crowded the edges of his vision and a roar filled his ears as his whole body came to a frozen standstill, then thundered to pieces. He fell on top of Catie, barely catching himself as she gasped beneath him.
And then she kissed his shoulder. “Is it ice cream that does it for you, then?”
He laughed and tumbled to the side, pulling her with him. “Sorbet, apparently.”
“Mmm.” She shoved her hair off her face. “How late do you think that shop in the lobby is open?”
Chapter Sixteen
In the end, they decided not to go back downstairs. That risked them bumping into some of their teammates, and while they didn’t talk about it in depth—they had better things to do than talk—Catie was relieved that Will agreed with her.
Nobody else needed to know how they spent the night.
So instead of more ice cream cones, they ordered room service dessert, which came with ice cream.
They mostly consumed that in an orderly fashion, although Will did lick a few drops off her breast at the end.
And then they tumbled on his bed again, this time slower than the first. Longer, sweeter. He explored her body, gently massaging the parts that ached from the day, and discovering which parts made her shiver. Then he perched her in his lap and notched them together again.
As she sank onto his length, as he once again filled her up and took her breath away, he dusted his mouth over the curve of her collarbone, then filled his hands with her breasts and feasted.
Will didn’t talk a lot during sex. He was the strong, silent type. Her new favourite type, she decided as she rode him slowly, his mouth full anyway, because he was sucking on her nipples.
Talking was overrated.
And once she came in a clutching, wonder of a climax that milked his release immediately after, she was overcome by a heavy, sudden wave of the good kind of tired.
Will pulled the sheet over her and settled in behind her.
“I’ll set my alarm for first thing,” he whispered into her hair.
She nodded, her eyes already closed.
She woke before his alarm went off. Before the sun came up, and with a start. Then she realized where she was—and whose arm was draped low over her hips.
Deep inside her, a kernel of regret formed. Not for the sex, but for the sleepover. That made this morning more complicated.
How did you think it was going to go?
She hadn’t been thinking, though. That was the problem. She’d been feeling. And it had felt amazing.
Before she could crawl out of his bed and sneak over to her own room, he tightened his grip. “Stay,” he murmured.
“I should go…”
He kissed her shoulder. “You could. Or you could stay.” His hand slid lower, cupping her mound, his fingertips grazing the seam of her pussy. “I could make you feel good again.”
It was early still.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
He kissed her neck next, as he played with the growing wetness between her legs. She could feel his erection thick against her bum, but he didn’t move. He just kissed her neck and stroked her flesh, working her body into a state of fevered readiness.
Last night, he hadn’t been a big talker. This morning was the complete opposite. As he touched her, he gave her a rough blow-by-blow of how hot the night before had been. “I especially liked it when you ordered me to take my pants off.”
“It was more of a firm request,” she murmured, reaching back to wrap her fingers around his cock.
He groaned as she stroked him from root to tip, then used the bead of arousal there to slick the head
of his cock. “Like your firm request for me to be quiet, when you were the loud one?”
“Hmm, I don’t remember that…” She sucked in a breath as he slid a finger into her, then two fingers, filling her up. “Oh! God, Will. More of that. Ah.”
“Just like that.” His voice was low, rough. “When you started moaning, it was over. I needed to be inside you. So hot.”
“I wasn’t moaning.”
“Groaning. Crying out my name. At one point, I covered your mouth and you bit me.”
“Oh my God.” She rolled over to look at him as he reached for a condom. “Do you think anyone heard us?”
“No, because I covered your mouth.”
“And I bit you?”
He grinned. “That was hot, too.”
She rolled her lower lip between her teeth. “You may need to do that again.”
His eyes lit up as he reached for her. “Or you could bite down on something else. Like the pillow.”
“You want me from behind?” She rolled over, feeling shameless and sexy as he hooked his hands around her hips and lifted her into position.
He sighed her name and smoothed his palms over her ass, then rocked his erection between her legs, finding her clit, making her throb for him.
“Don’t you just look incredible like this,” he rumbled. And in case there was any doubt about what he was looking at, he got specific in a way that made her face burn and her thighs shake. “Wet and ready for me.”
Then he was at her entrance, thick and blunt, and pressing inside.
She groaned into the mattress as he shushed her, telling her to be quiet, telling her to be good. Praising her for taking him, all of him. He’d figured out how much she liked the specificity, apparently. Could read her body’s reaction to his filthy words, which she liked just as much as last night’s silent intensity.
He described what it looked like, how she stretched around his cock, and she lost it. He’d already gotten her close with his fingers. And now, with each deep push, he nailed that spot inside her that made her mind go blank. She babbled his name a few times, panting as her body coiled tight, then burst.
His fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place as he chased his own pleasure next, thrusting harder and harder until he stopped, suddenly, and then groaned. Loud, long, deep.
“Shhh…” she whispered into the silence that followed.
And he laughed.
God, how fun was it to have sex with someone—good sex, amazing sex—and then end it with shared laughter?
What happens in Timmins, stays in Timmins. That was for the best, for many reasons, but now that she’d had a taste of Will and his hands and his…everything…it would be that much harder to maintain a friend boundary with him.
Time to go.
She slipped off the bed as he cleaned up, and already had her clothes on when he returned from the washroom, still buck-ass naked.
He glanced at the clock. “What’s the rush?”
“I want to pack up,” she said. It sounded weak, even to her own ears. Add a compliment. “That was nice. One last time before we return to real life.”
“That was more than nice.” He caught her around the waist. She tensed up, and he felt it. She knew he felt it, because he stopped talking immediately. “Catie?”
Her pulse raced. “Yep?”
He cleared his throat and smoothed out his words. “Did I misread the situation? Do you not want to…”
She wanted to be annoyed at the cool Mr. Principal voice, but she knew better now. That was just Will trying to stay calm.
Sighing, she relaxed into him. They could hug. “You didn’t misread anything,” she whispered against his neck. “But I don’t think we can do this back home.”
The long silence that followed physically hurt.
Why not? She knew the next question that was coming. And she didn’t have a great answer. Because I’m scared to want too much. Because I don’t know what would happen if people found out. Because I don’t know you, not really.
And then the worst one.
Because you don’t know me.
With a rough exhale, he stepped back and pulled on some pants. That was fair. This wasn’t a naked conversation. “I thought…what with the mutual feelings…” He paused there and laughed, a short, humourless bark. “I might be able to take you out on a date when we got back.”
This was the problem with crushes. They were never logical or well-thought out, and just ended up hurting people. Usually her, which was one thing, but now it was Will. She winced. “Then people would know that we’re…” She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m a trainee, and you’re the assistant team leader. It’s... we can’t muddy that.”
He frowned. “Tom wouldn’t care.”
That was probably true. Fuck.
His face tightened up into something more like understanding. “But you would care.”
She nodded.
He glanced away. “And what if we can’t forget this?”
The room still smelled like them. But even after they were long gone, there wasn’t a chance of her letting go of a single moment. “I don’t ever want to forget… That’s not—”
“Okay.” He bent over and picked up her phone. “This must have fallen out of your pocket.”
A clear dismissal. She deserved that.
Will’s chest felt like it had a wooden stake jabbed straight through his sternum. He still dug deep for a better note than here’s your phone. “And thank you,” he said gruffly. “For last night. And this morning.”
He gave her the phone. Then he held out his hand, because he needed to touch her again, and maybe a handshake would be enough. “Teammates.”
She shook on that, then left.
In the silence that followed, he sat down heavily and thought about how fucking awkward the drive home was going to be.
And how he couldn’t spend it fixating on the fact that her excuse was bullshit. This wasn’t about needing to stay professional on the team together. Tom wouldn’t care. He knew Will could separate the two things. Catie, too. Which meant she was purposefully combining them.
Whatever her true reason, she wanted an excuse.
That stung.
She had a crush on him. Her words. But she didn’t want anyone to know about it? It was hard not to take that personally, but he had made the mistake once before to assume she was rejecting him instead of making her own decisions for her own reasons.
He just wish he knew what those reasons were.
Ask her.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to demand why. Something held him back, and he didn’t think it was fear. Caution, maybe. Always better than rash bravery. And when it came to Catie, he’d acted rashly before. Maybe not bravely, although he’d fooled himself into thinking it was something akin to that.
But fuck.
From that first kiss, he hadn’t thought for a second that it would just be one night.
Except when you told her that what happens in Timmins, stays in Timmins.
Maybe he had known, deep down, that she’d be skittish. And he’d been willing to gamble on that to get another taste, and then another. To spread her out naked on his bed and be inside her.
He’d tried to show her with his body how right they were together.
That, in hindsight, hadn’t been the smartest plan.
From somewhere else in the room, his phone vibrated. Without glancing at the clock, he was pretty sure that was a wake-up text from Tom.
Breakfast in the restaurant, and then time for the convoy of vehicles to hit the road so they could make the ferry crossing later that afternoon.
He threw himself into the shower, hoping that the steam would bring clarity.
It did not.
He packed up and took his bags down to the truck.
Then he steeled himself and went to find the team. But Catie wasn’t there. He glanced down the table.
“Looking for your passenger?�
�� Lore asked.
Yep. That’s who Catie was. He nodded.
“She just left. Said she was going upstairs to pack, and took her breakfast to go.”
“Ah.”
“She didn’t sleep much last night,” Lore continued.
That was a fucking lie. She’d slept like a log. A beautiful, exhausted log. He took that as an opportunity to change the subject. “I crashed out early. How about you?”
He didn’t hear Lore’s answer. He nodded, and someone else replied, and nobody noticed that Will was deeply out of sorts.
Was it worse that he’d braced himself and then she hadn’t been at the table?
Yes, ten times worse.
He pulled out his phone after he ordered some eggs that he wouldn’t taste.
Will: I’m packed up already. Let me know when you are ready to get going.
She didn’t text him back. But as he finished eating, she appeared in the doorway of the restaurant, her pack on her back and her other bags over her shoulder.
“Hey,” he said carefully.
“Got your text.” She gave him a look he couldn’t read. “I was busy building a better playlist for the drive back.”
Oh. It was going to be like that.
All right. It was a peace offering, and he grabbed it with both hands.
He grinned. “All country?”
“Zero country. We’re starting with New Order and Talking Heads. The rest will be a surprise for you.”
And just like that, she’d established some safe talking points for the drive home: retro music, which could spin into the media lab, and then from there the business club. And she’d deftly pointed them in that direction without her usual blunt directness.
He paid up, and they waved goodbye to their teammates.
