“You’re perfect.”
How he even managed the words when I could barely hear beyond the pounding of my heart and the buzzing in my brain was a miracle. Yet I heard them, felt them brush across my skin, leaving a trail of blissful heat in their wake.
His lips once more touched me, taking me by surprise, as I’d since closed my eyes, trying my hardest not to explode just yet. Meeting in a frenzy, our tongues brushed against each other as he fucked me into the mattress. I was coiled tightly—we both were.
Gasping for breath, I broke our kiss, my gaze locking on his.
A smile played on his lips before “Oh fuck… oh fuck…” broke out. His climax burst free. Focusing hard at not following, I stared at his face, watching each movement there. Emotion danced on his features as he filled me up, his hips jerking, body almost rigid with his release.
When he opened his eyes, he kissed me, quick and fast, catching my groan as he pulled out of me. He moved, sealing his mouth around my dick. The gasp tore out of me, the suction tight, the movement so perfect I had no choice but to clamp on to the wrecked sheets.
Stars danced in my vision, and I shouted out my release, my nerve endings spiraling out of control. I was fucking bound, tied so completely to this man that if I believed in soul mates, without a doubt he was mine.
Fuck, maybe I believed after all.
More lucid thought returned as we slowed our breathing. At some point he’d pulled off my dick, and for the first time I felt the remnants of his release, so distinctly different than the mess of lube alone.
“That was amazing.” He crawled up the bed, pressing tightly against me, head landing on my chest.
“Need my arms to work to hold you,” I managed with a weak chuckle, my limbs refusing to behave.
I felt the whisper of his smile against my skin. “All good. Shower soon.”
I grunted something unintelligible. Moving sounded like a lousy idea right now. Not only that, but I was in no rush to wash away the evidence of our lovemaking just yet.
CHAPTER17
EDDIE
Yesterday morningwe’d parted ways so I could attend a meeting with my accountant about some recent purchases while Pearce went about his usual routine when playing away.
We did manage to grab dinner together last night, though. This time with an excited Lottie in tow. Her eagerness to spend time with Pearce, I could completely relate to. It also gave me hope that as soon as we were able to talk about Pearce and me dating, she’d be happy with the news.
While this coming summer—Pearce’s off-season—our time together was a given, since for at least six weeks of it we’d be at Montview together, we hadn’t discussed beyond that. There was little doubt we knew the reality of our situations and being a flight apart, both with significant commitments and limitations to travel.
As far as I was concerned, I’d keep pleading ignorance. Not trying to work out a plan meant I didn’t have to stress or worry about the future. For the time being, I chose to believe we’d figure it out.
Having Lottie with me had meant no sleepover in Pearce’s hotel room. It sucked, and I would have asked him to simply stay at my home, but that would have got him in a shitload of trouble with his coach. Instead, I’d had to be content with a sly press of my lips to his neck when I hugged him goodbye, and a lingering look.
The video call last night had helped get me to sleep, though. Much easier when watching Pearce take himself in hand had dragged a spine-tingling orgasm out of me.
We’d texted each other throughout the day. I hadn’t been able to head to his hotel between his practice session and tonight’s game, but we had the promise of tonight. He’d already got his coach’s approval not to travel back with the team tomorrow.
Lottie and I had thirty minutes before we had to leave for the arena. Pearce would already be there, but we had time to kill.
“Lottie. Chair.”
The scrape of her fixing her chair and stopping from balancing the damn thing on two legs followed, right along with her huff.
“Have you completed it?” I peered at her laptop, looking for evidence she’d finished her math homework.
“One more question.” She didn’t look away as she spoke, a testimony to how focused she could be when being late to the game was at stake.
“Great. I’m just going to sort the washing out.”
I left her to it while getting on with the joys of domestic tasks. Admittedly, I had a cleaner who came in twice a week to get on top of my five-bedroom home, but everything else I took on myself. Working for myself as a stockbroking consultant and having invested super wisely during my years of playing pro put me in one hell of a position of privilege. It didn’t mean I couldn’t handle washing clothes or making dinner, though.
Once the load was in, I made sure Lottie’s school bag was ready for tomorrow, as well as her lunch. Tonight would be a late night. Not the first time she’d stay up way past her bedtime to take in a basketball game. No chance I’d let her miss it, though. At least it was almost the weekend, so she could catch up with sleep then.
