Page 169 of Beautiful Venom

This whole time, I’ve only felt Kane lose control—momentarily—during sex. But lately, I can see glimpses of him doing so even if he’s not fucking me.

He’s one meticulous bastard and hates it when I leave things lying around. He also has these strange quirks like cooking in silence and not listening to any music. He also does the same in his home gym when working out—no speakers or headphones. When I asked about it, he said he uses that time to think, and he doesn’t really listen to music or anything audible, because it interferes with his thoughts.

Kane also wakes up early and is always the first player who arrives at practice.

But he doesn’t drag me along and often tells me to sleep some more, especially if I visited Vi the previous night.

I’m starting to feel guilty because I can’t spend the whole night by her bedside anymore. I try to stay for a couple of hours and give her updates—mostly related to Kane—but I feel like it’s not enough.

My days are busy with work and school, and the nights…well, if I’m not being chased and dicked down by Kane in the sickest, most perverse ways, we’re either going out with his teammates or snuggling up for a movie or cooking the most random shit I find on the internet.

Or he cooks and I just stand around like the most useless assistant.

And on the weekends, I insist that we spend time with his mom—something he dislikes, so he grumbles and acts like a general asshole. However, when we went to his parents’ house yesterday, he was mostly silent as he watched with a cryptic expression while Helena and I fed and talked to the koi fish.

Then he left us to have a meeting with his dad. I’m not sure what was said, but afterward, Kane had a defeated but relieved smile. Grant merely narrowed his eyes on me as he stormed out of the house.

Since last night, Kane has been more relaxed. He fucked me so hard that I was screaming, and I woke up this morning with his head between my legs. Best morning ever.

He also said I should move my stuff into his apartment, to which I was left speechless.

To be honest, I’ve only dropped by the dorm lately to check on Megan and grab some clothes. Basically, we’ve already been living together, but making it official is different.

I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

What if things don’t work out and he kicks me out? That’s my worst nightmare.

“Go Price!!”

My attention is drawn back to the present as Megan shouts Ryder’s last name, then erupts in loud cheers when he checks an opponent, snatches the puck, and scores. Then he raises his stick in our direction.

“OMG!” She shakes my shoulders and then hugs me. “Did you see that?”

“Everyone did.” I smile as I hug her back.

“He’s amazing!” She lowers her voice. “Aside from fucking like a porn star.”

I hit her shoulder jokingly. Let’s just say Megan hasn’t been in the dorm much either and is now attending a hockey game of her own volition.

We have the best seats in Vipers Arena, thanks to Kane and Ryder, and ever since we got here, my friend has been hyping up the entire crowd. This is coming from Megan, who used to claim that the Stanton Wolves were the strongest team in the league.

“Who let the trash in?” Isabella says loud enough for us to hear.

The worst part about having the best seats, which are usually reserved for family and friends, is being forced to share space with Isabella and her goons.

She’s sitting behind us with her friends and has been talking shit throughout the game.

Megan ignores her, sometimes even going quiet, until Ryder touches the puck again.

I was going to ignore her, too, but I need to put assholes in their place. So I turn and smile at her. She glares.

“Do you mind shutting up?” I shout over the cheers. “I can hear your bitterness.”

Her face contorts, and I blow her a kiss, grinning wide.

As I’m about to focus back on the game, I catch the gaze of an older man, probably in his late twenties to early thirties. He’s standing at the farthest, highest part of the seating area, both hands in his pockets, as if he wants to have a full view of the rink.

His dark gray suit stands out against the fan gear and hockey jerseys most people are wearing. And he’s staring. No, glaring?

---