Page 56 of Tempest

She hasn’t said anything, she’s just followed me with her stare, taking in every step I make. Yet, she’s not fussing to make me stop. She’s not tensing up, instead she’s relaxed and languid. I move my thumbs in circles over her collarbone and down her arms, she falls farther back into me, her breathing growing shallower by the minute.

“You’re a great dad, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think so, but only Tori can really say. I try to be, anyway.”

“She moved back here to be close to you. I think that is probably answer enough.”

“I guess,” I say. “Though I think partly, she wanted to give her mom the space to create a life that didn’t revolve around being a mother. Once she realized what all Caroline gave up.”

That does make Odette’s muscles firm under my fingers. I’m not implying that Caroline was the only one to give something up, not at all. We all did. We all paid a price. But if Odette wants to go down that road of conversation, she’s going to have to say the words. She’s already said several times she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Will you tell me about getting drafted?” she asks, and so I do. Leaving out some of the details, like Caroline and Tori being by my side. I focus, instead, on the nervousness I felt, then the joy, then the apprehension because it’s very difficult to feel worthy to play on a team of men you grew up idolizing.

I tell her about my first professional practice and my first game in The Show. How I was so worked up I didn’t sleep the night before and ran on pure adrenaline. What I don’t tell her is that the first game I played in New York City, I nearly looked her up. The urge to track her down was stronger than almost anything I’d ever felt, but I tamped it down, not wanting to disturb any life she’d built for herself. I definitely don’t tell her that the urge never left, or that every time I stepped off a plane in New York, I searched the crowds, hoping for a glimpse of her.

She makes comments here and there, or asks questions for more details, and laughs when I recall the way the guys razzed me as a rookie. It’s a sleepy laugh, muffled by the pillow she snuggles into.

By the time I’ve finished telling her about my first season, I’ve massaged every inch of every limb, and her eyes are barely open.

She hasn’t kicked me out, though. So, I snuggle in behind her and pull the comforter up around our shoulders while I listen to our hearts matching tempo. Tomorrow won’t be so easy with her, I fear. She’ll wake with her shell firmly intact, all the cracks from today repaired. She’ll go back to being the strong, independent woman who doesn’t rely on anyone for anything.

I’ll go back to admiring her for it, but it will be different now. Because I won’t forget that when she did need something, it was me she let give it. Not just the sex, she let me comfort her, which means measurably more.

Realistically, I know where this goes. She’ll keep me in the friend zone. She’ll likely even keep dating the stuffy guy. For now, it’s enough. For now, I’ll take what she gives.

For now. Not forever.

18

Odette

Gavin’s body is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.

I woke up at least a half hour ago, and after a moment of wondering what the fuck I did, I’ve been studying him the entire time. Every inch, every muscle, every bruise and scar. Most are new, but a couple I remember from before. Like the tiny one at the corner of his mouth. It sits at the edge of his bottom lip, an old injury from a stick to the face. He told me the story once, just as he told me new stories last night.

It was as enjoyable for me this time as it was then. His voice soothes me as much as how he worked my muscles with his massage.

Maybe if I was a better woman, I’d have been scandalized or ashamed to wake up next to him this morning. I wasn’t, though. I wanted something last night and I asked honestly for it. There’s no shame in that. There’s none now, either, as I ogle him while he sleeps. If he feared me doing this, he should have left before I woke.

What does exist is an apprehension that I’ve given him something he won’t so easily back away from. And a fear that I’ve left a gap for him to crawl through.

The sex was…exactly what I hope for every time I get in bed with a man. Only, Gavin didn’t disappoint. He was relentless, never stopping his consistent thrusting, never showing any sign of tiring, even as I barely held on to consciousness.

Everything he did for, and to, me last night was exactly what I needed without knowing it was what I needed. He knew, though. Hell, he even came prepared. Though, I don’t think he anticipated it ending in my bed.

I didn’t, either, when I opened my door to him. Weakness isn’t something I show others. We all have it, in one form or another, but I never wear it proudly. Showing it to Gavin didn’t scare me, and that’s what I fear the most.

He shifts, and the blanket falls off him, baring his ass for me to see. Two taut globes just willing me to bite them. It’s not fair how beautiful his body is. Or how well he uses it. He’s incomparable. Preston surely could never fuck me the way Gavin did last night, though he has gotten somewhat braver in bed.

What do I do now?

Do I wake him up, ask him to leave, and break this little fairy tale I’ve been in? Or do I let it last a little while longer? Take what I want, what I’ve missed. What was stolen from me. Sooner or later, I’ll return to my senses but right now…right now, I’m still feeling reckless and emotional. Right now, I’m ready to show him what he’s been missing.

Slinking back down under the covers, I snuggle into his side. He turns on his side, his arm coming around me and pulling me closer. My cheek rests on his pectoral, a firm but not uncomfortable pillow. The bonus is that his nipple is right there for the taking. I dart my tongue out, tasting it before pressing a kiss there. He hums and his cock comes to life against my leg. I press another kiss to his chest, my eyes upturned to his face. He still sleeps, though the pressure of his fingertips deepens. I press another, lower this time, then another still lower. His eyes remain closed, even as his dick wakes up fully. When I’ve trailed kisses down his chest, over his abdomen and happy trail, I look up again.

“Ode,” he moans sleepily. I sigh in relief that it’s my name he calls. Then he opens those sky-colored eyes. All his attention on me as I prop just above his hard erection. I raise an eyebrow in question. Does he want this as much as I want to give it? “You have no idea how good you look with your head between my thighs.”

“Not as good as I’ll look with your cock in my mouth,” I say, making the appendage twitch against my waiting lips.

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