“Delivery for Beatrix Madden,” says Harold, the guy who works the front desk, when I answer the phone. “I can bring it up for you, unless you’d like us to hold it in the lobby.”
“I can come down.” I ordered new running gear—on sale seventy-five percent off—but I figured it would take a few days to arrive.
“I have three other deliveries. It’s really no problem,” Harold says.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’ll be up shortly, Miss Madden.”
“Thanks, Harold.”
A minute later, there’s a knock on the door. Except it’s not Harold, it’s Roman and Hollis. “Hey, Rix. You and Hammer ready to roll out?”
“Hammer’s changing for the seventeenth time. And Harold is coming up with a delivery. Otherwise we’re good to go.” Tonight, it’s a home game against Florida. Last time we lost, but their goalie is out with an injury, which gives Toronto a distinct advantage. “Ready for tonight’s game?”
“Looking forward to putting another win under our belt,” Roman says.
“Same here,” Hollis agrees.
“Any special requests for meals next week? I’m shopping tomorrow.” I’ve been prepping a few meals a week for Hollis and Roman since I moved in with Hammer. I missed doing it for Tristan and Flip, so I was excited when they asked me. It’s a nice side hustle, and they pay me cash, which goes into my entertainment fund.
“That breakfast hash. I could eat it three meals a day,” Hollis replies.
“And your Bolognese sauce. I only have one container left,” Roman adds.
“Got it.” I pull out my phone and make a note in my grocery list. “If you think of anything else, just let me know.”
Hammer comes out of her room. She’s wearing her ice blue and black Hammerstein jersey, a pair of black jeans, and knee-high boots. Her hair is curled.
I give her two thumbs-up. “You look hot.”
“So do you.” She high-fives me, then gives gun fingers to Hollis and Roman. “And so do you and you. This calls for a selfie.”
“I hate selfies,” Roman grumbles.
“Same,” Hollis says.
“Don’t be a curmudgeon, Daddy. You either, Hollis. It’s good for your social media.” Roman rolls his eyes as she pulls out her phone. She pokes Hollis in the cheek until he reluctantly smiles. She gives kissy lips to the camera and snaps a pic.
There’s another knock on the door. “That’s Harold. I think my new workout gear arrived.”
Hollis opens the door. The box Harold is holding most definitely doesn’t contain workout gear. Hollis gives him a twenty-dollar tip and takes the box. I try to give him the money back, but he waves it away.
“Your workout gear looks more like it might be a cake,” Hammer says.
“It’s from my favorite bakery.” The other day I said I would give my left boob for a slice of white chocolate mousse cake after Tristan and I had three-hour marathon sex. But it was late, and the only thing open was the convenience store down the street. Tristan brought back a cake from the frozen section. It curbed the craving but doesn’t hold a candle to anything from Just Desserts.
“Is it your birthday?” Hollis asks.
“No. It’s in the summer.”
“Did Tristan buy you cake because he loves your vagina?” Hammer asks.
Roman coughs.
“Chill out, Daddy. Everyone knows they’re boning. It’s borderline NSFW when they look at each other.” She waves her dad off. “Is there a card? Let’s see what he got you.”
“I don’t know for sure that it’s from Tristan.” Although the odds are in his favor. There’s no card though. I peel the sticker free and flip open the lid.
Hammer barks out a laugh. “Only Tristan would do this.”
“I’d like to say I can’t believe this, but I can totally believe this.”
Roman looks over my shoulder and chuckles while rubbing his chin. “Boy’s in deep.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as my face heats.
Hollis moves in for a closer look. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Any man who has a cake like this made has to be head over ass in love. He literally can’t get enough of you. And it’s good to know he’s taking care of all your needs. He’s not worth your time if he’s not going downtown. Isn’t that right, Hollis?”
“Oh my God, Dad.” Hammer looks scandalized.
“Yup, one hundred percent.” Hollis thumbs over his shoulder. “I’m going to pull the car around. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Seriously. If he’s obsessed enough to send you this cake, the guy is in love.” Roman pats me on the shoulder.
I snap a pic of the pretty icing flowers and the loopy cursive that reads Please sit on my face. In a few clicks, I send it on to Tristan with a message.
RIX
Happily.
“Looks like I’m spending the night at your place, Dad,” Hammer says.
“Oh my God, that’s it. Don’t stop, don’t stop! So goddamn close.” I’m gripping the headboard, straddling Tristan’s face while he hoovers my clit like he’s performing an exorcism. They won the game tonight. We went to the bar, I humped his leg and ground my ass on his cock on the dance floor, and now here we are. Me doing exactly what his cake requested.
“You gonna come on my face?” Tristan slaps my right ass cheek.
I moan, grab a fistful of hair, and grind down on his mouth. How he can breathe with his nose jammed against my pubic bone is a wonder, but he’s not tapping out. He grabs my ass and helps move me over his mouth. My legs are shaking as the orgasm builds. He knows exactly how to keep me on the edge and make me want more. Suddenly a finger presses against door number two.
My grinding falters. “What are you doing?”
He takes a brief break from fucking my pussy with his tongue to reply, “Priming you.” He eases a finger into my ass and latches onto my clit, sucking hard.
The orgasm slams into me like a bulldozer. I make a bunch of excessively loud noises that are half moan/half scream, interspersed with garbled words that don’t make any sense. The world turns into a starburst for several seconds as sensation drags me into the blissful abyss. I’m so out of it that I don’t even realize he’s flipped me onto my back until the world comes back into focus and I’m staring at the ceiling.
Tristan is stretched out between my thighs, massive shoulders forcing my legs wide. His chin glistens with girl-gasm. His hot gaze meets mine as he gently laps my clit and that insidious finger slides in deeper.
“Oh my God.” My hips buck involuntarily. I’m on sensation overload. And I’m still coming.
He prowls up my body. When we’re face to face, a second finger presses against my opening and joins the first, stretching me. “I’m getting in here tonight, little Bea.”
“What if I can’t handle it?” I whimper.
“You can and you will.” His lips brush mine. “First, I’ll get you ready with my fingers.” He curls them as they slide out to the first knuckle, then pushes back in deep.
My eyes roll up when his thumb circles my clit.
“My sweet, filthy girl.” He sucks my bottom lip and drags it between his teeth. “You’re gonna come from having your ass finger-fucked, aren’t you?”
I nod and bear down as they ease back in. His free hand comes up to circle my throat. “How close are you?”
“So close.” My legs are already shaking.
He circles my clit again and adds a third finger.
I groan at the hot sting as he stretches me further. His thumb doesn’t stop circling my clit, though, and his fingers flex against the edge of my jaw. And then I’m coming, my entire body rigid as I moan, and my hips roll and jerk.
The hand around my throat disappears as Tristan rummages in my nightstand, where all my sex toys are. Two items land beside me on the bed: anal lube and the butt plug. We’ve used it several times since we started seeing each other for real.
“I’m going to plug your ass and fuck your pussy, but you don’t come again until my cock is in your ass, understand?”
“Okay?” I’m delirious from the endless orgasm, so I don’t fully consider what I’m agreeing to. One second I’m full of his fingers, the next I’m empty.
“I’ll be right back.” Tristan kisses me, then rolls off the bed, his erection straining.
“What? Where are you going?”
He disappears into the bathroom and the water comes on. Right. He’s washing his hands so he can touch me again. Nerves make my hands shake as I grab the plug and the lube. I squirt some onto the tapered tip, coating the black silicone. He returns as I set the lube on the nightstand.
“Look at you, all eager to get your ass filled.” He strokes himself and holds out his other hand. “Let’s get you ready for my cock.”
I pass him the plug, but before I can move into position, he cups my cheek in his palm and leans in to kiss me tenderly. “We’ll take it nice and slow, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
“We only do what makes you feel good.” He straightens. “On your stomach for me.”
I flip over. Tristan sets the plug on the nightstand and runs his hands from my shoulders all the way down to my calves. I’m nervous, obviously, but everything about the way he touches me is gentle, reverent. I feel worshipped. Cared for.
“So fucking beautiful.” He kisses the dip in my spine and taps my ass. “On your hands and knees.”
I push back, like a cat stretching, so my ass is in the air. The bed dips behind me, and Tristan’s hand glides over my ass. He kisses a path up my spine, then brushes his lips against my cheek as he grabs a pillow and tucks it under my head.
“I promise you’ll love this, little Bea.”
I bite my lip and nod. He tucks his hand under my cheek and twists my head enough that he can slant his mouth over mine. His erection presses against me, and I moan.
“Soon, baby.” He folds back on his knees and sits on his heels. The smooth plug glides between my cheeks, and he presses the tapered tip against my opening. He pushes in, his other hand sliding under me so he can tease my clit and pussy as he fills my ass with the plug, inch by slow inch. He keeps checking in, making sure it feels good before he gives me more. Eventually, I rock back, pushing the plug deeper on my own. And when it’s finally seated fully, Tristan exhales heavily and runs his hands over my ass. “You’re doing so good, baby, so fucking good.”
He flips me on my back and hooks my knees into the crooks of his elbows as he stretches out on top of me. His hips settle into the cradle of mine. His gaze moves over my face on a gentle caress that’s echoed by his fingers skimming from my temple to my jaw. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He brushes his lips over mine. “I promise I’ll be careful with you. Make you feel good the way you always do for me. Okay?”
I nod once and his mouth meets mine. The kiss is soft, unhurried. His thumb sweeps along the edge of my jaw as he rocks his hips until his blunt head nudges my entrance.
He pulls back so he can see my face. “You want more?”
“Yes, please,” I whisper.
“This is about making you feel good. You tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
I run my hands through his hair, nerves and anticipation warring. “I trust you.” Everything about this experience is heightened. It’s not just about sensation, the feel of his body surrounding me, protecting me. It’s more than that. I feel safe in his arms. Revered. Precious.
We both groan as he pushes inside, his thick cock stretching me, the head putting pressure on the plug.
He cups my face in his palms and rests his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Bea, nothing compares to this feeling.”
It’s so much tighter like this. And the intimacy is heady and overwhelming. I’m already so close. It won’t take much to make me come. But Tristan doesn’t move, doesn’t pull out and push back in, doesn’t rock his hips and give us what we both need.
“Do you remember what I said?” His fingers tremble against my cheek.
“Huh?”
“When do you get to come?” He kisses the corner of my mouth.
“Tristan.”
“I promise it’ll make it even better.”
“But I’m so close already,” I admit.
“I know. I need you on the edge, Bea. That’s where I always am when I’m with you.” He shifts his hips back, and I fully expect him to push in, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls all the way out. I clench around nothing and whine my displeasure.
His smile is salacious as his cock glides over my clit. “You don’t come until I’m fucking your ass, Bea.”
“Oh my God, you’re horrible,” I gripe, biting my lip.
“You love it.”
I do. So fucking much.
He folds back and uses one forearm to keep my knees pressed to my chest while he fists his cock with the other. And then the real teasing begins. He circles my clit with the head, presses the tip inside me, gives me a couple of inches, but pulls out again. Over and over. He keeps barely fucking me. Filling me for one stroke before pulling out again. Amidst the maddening torment, he leans in to kiss me. “Soon, baby. You’re almost ready.”
I’m mindless with want. Desperation and acute need consume me. I’m so wet, so close to coming it’s a physical ache.
This time, when he fills me again, I wrap my legs around his waist, desperate not just for the orgasm just out of reach, but for him, for this closeness, for this feeling to never end. Just as I’m about to tip over the edge, he pulls out. He sits back on his heels and taps the plug with his erection.
“Please, Tristan. Oh, God. Just please.”
“Knees to your chest,” he orders.
And I comply. Because all I want is to come, and I trust that he’ll make this good for me. He always does. He works the plug free, thumb circling my clit to keep me on the edge. He tosses it to the floor and grabs the lube from the nightstand, coating his cock and my ass before he rubs the head over the opening.
“Nice and slow, Bea.” He presses the blunt tip against me and carefully eases the head inside. He’s thick, a lot thicker than the plug or his fingers. I tense and whimper at the sharp sting and the sudden burn.
His thumb circles my clit. “Just relax, baby, deep breaths. You got this.”
I take a deep breath, and another, and another.
“Focus on what feels good.” He eases a finger inside my pussy, then resumes circling my clit as he pushes in another inch, past the first barrier. I exhale a shuddering breath as the sting subsides and pleasure follows.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he praises.
He doesn’t push in farther, not yet, just rocks his hips a little and keeps circling his thumb. The orgasm hits me like a slow rolling wave, washing over me, dragging me down with the intensity, radiating through my entire body. I quake and shudder and moan. And then he’s pushing in deeper, past the next barrier, and I keep coming, wave after wave of bliss.
“Mine. All fucking mine,” Tristan grinds out. He adjusts me so I’m on my side, my knees hooked into the crook of his left arm. His nose brushes mine. “So good, little Bea. You’re doing so good. How does it feel?”
“I c-can’t st-stop c-coming,” I stammer.
His fingers are gentle on my cheek, his smile all satisfaction and primal desire. “And I haven’t even started fucking you yet.”
He takes it slow, hip rolls and gentle thrusts and endless praise, until I ask for more. Until I’m begging him to fuck me. Until I’m screaming his name and digging my nails into his arms as I shudder and clench my way through another intense orgasm.
Afterward, he runs us a bath and fills it with bubbles. He helps me into the tub and gets in behind me, settling me between his legs. He kisses my neck and squirts body wash on a pouf, gently wiping the sweat from my body. We stay in the tub until I start to doze off. Then he towels me dry, changes the sheets, and brings me cake in bed. When I’m full and sleepy, he wraps himself around me and tells me how perfect I am.
As I’m drifting off, I swear I hear him murmur, “You’re the only one I want, Bea. Only you.”
But in the morning, I wake up alone.
“This needs more of something, but I don’t know what.” Hemi frowns at the guac.
I dip a tortilla chip into the concoction and take a test bite. “A little lime juice and a dash of salt and we’re all set.”
“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” Tally says.
Hammer gives her a side hug. “We’ve got you.”
Tally went on a date that ended badly. They went to a movie with a group of friends, and at the end of the night, he dropped her off and kissed her. It was a sad, overly tongue-filled experience. He’s already suggested they go out again, just the two of them, via text. So now she has to tell him she thinks they should just be friends. Poor little thing is stressed out.
“Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’m remembering it.” She spins her phone on the table. “Or maybe he was nervous. That could explain it, right?”
“So you’re saying you imagined that he was basically making out with your chin?” Hammer asks.
Tally crosses her arms on the counter and drops her head. “It was so weird. Why did it have to be so weird? It was literally the worst kiss ever.” She lifts her head. “He’s so cute. Maybe he’s teachable, though? Maybe it’s a fixable problem?”
“Do you want to be the one to fix it?” I ask.
She wrinkles her nose. “No. I really don’t.”
“Then you let him down easy. But not today.” Hammer pushes the bowl of black licorice candies toward her. They’re Tally’s favorite. “Today we eat guac and candy and feel bad about shitty kissers.”
“Amen to that.” We clink our glasses and all take a drink.
My phone rings, the tone telling me who it is. I assigned a song to everyone at the top of my contact list. “Hey, ’sup?”
“My cock. Wanna come ride it?”
I snort a laugh. It’s been a week since the anal devirginizing. It took a couple of days before sitting down didn’t induce a wince, but man, it was worth the slightly uncomfortable aftermath. I’d been irked that Tristan was gone when I woke up, and even more irritated that he hadn’t left so much as a note. But Brody had asked to shoot the puck with him, and he hadn’t wanted to wake me before he left. He sent peonies to my work with a slightly inappropriate card that I had to hide from my colleagues. “Such a tempting offer, but I’m with the girls,” I tell him.
“I hoped to see you tonight.” The disappointment is clear in his tone.
“We have a girl emergency. But we can do dinner and a sleepover tomorrow night,” I suggest.
“Are you okay?” Concern laces his tone.
“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s not a me emergency.”
“Right. Okay. How late will you be with the girls?”
“I’m not sure. I wouldn’t wait around for me.” I don’t want to leave early just so Tristan can get a vagina fix.
“I think I’ll go out with Flip tonight,” he grumbles.
My stomach tightens. “Don’t sound so excited.”
“I want to spend time with you, but you have plans.” He sighs. “Tomorrow you’re mine, though?”
“Tomorrow I’m yours,” I agree.
“Have fun with the girls.” He ends the call without saying goodbye. Irritation flashes through me, but he does that with everyone.
“Everything okay?” Hammer asks.
“Yeah, Tristan wanted to hang out, but I have plans, so now he’s going out with Flip.” I set my phone on the counter facedown and take a hefty gulp of my drink.
“Does that worry you?” Hemi asks.
I shrug. “We’re spending all this time together, and my heart is pretty invested. I think it’s the same for him, but I don’t know if he’s ever going to be at a point where he’s willing to label it.”
“He’s totally in love with you,” Hammer says.
“He is,” Hemi agrees.
“He looks at you like you’re the sun,” Tally adds.
“But can he commit? That’s the thing.” I blow out a breath. “I find myself trying to build my life around his. He travels half the year, so I’m going to need some assurance. As nice as it is to hear from everyone else that he’s in love with me, I’m not sure when or if he’ll ever be able to tell me himself.”
