Jaxson
I woke to the feel of soft, warm fingertips gliding along my arm.
It was the first thing I registered, the way they both tickled and soothed where they ran from my shoulder all the way down to my wrist. The next thing I noted was the soft, slender heat touching every part of me — a leg hitched over my hip, a breast flattened against my chest, and a sweet little pussy nestled right against my thigh.
My cock twitched to life, but even as it did, I felt the rest of my body protesting.
I was pretty sure I couldn’t fuck that girl again even if I wanted to.
I was usually quite proud of my stamina, considering I could skate non-stop and fast-paced for minutes at a time, take a small break, and then do it again — for hours. But Grace had pushed me to the limit last night in the best possible way.
Grace.
My eyelids fluttered open, and there she was.
Her hair was a fucking mess — dirty and matted from me burying my hands in it. Her eyes were tired but crinkled at the edges with a smile, her lips still swollen from my kisses and a slight bruise showing on her neck.
That made my heart stop, and I reached out to thumb the spot on a curse. “Grace…”
“I’m fine,” she said before I could apologize.
I shook my head, swallowing, hating myself for doing that to her. But she covered my hand with hers and lifted my fingers to her lips, kissing each one until my eyes found hers.
“I’m fine,” she promised. “I’m better than fine. I’m…” She lit up with a bashful smile, biting her lip. “I’m amazing.”
That brought a relieved exhale to my chest, and I smoothed my thumb over her lip.
“Our room, on the other hand,” she said, looking around us. “Is wrecked.”
I frowned, leaning up on my elbow enough to survey for myself.
She wasn’t wrong. Pillows and sheets were strewn everywhere, the comforter half covering our feet and half draped down to the floor. There were feathers scattered like we’d shredded a pillow. Maybe we had.
I glanced at the trail of soapy wetness that led from the shower to our bed. I hadn’t been able to fuck her the way I wanted to when we were attempting to clean up, so I’d carried her right back out and thrown her into the sheets. We’d also broken the handle in the shower that was meant to be an accessibility aide, and it had scraped a line of paint off the bathroom wall when I’d hastily tossed it out of our way.
I blinked.
And then a laugh barreled out of me, and I wrapped a giggling Grace in my arms, kissing her hair.
“I told you you were a menace,” I said, nipping at her earlobe.
“Me?” She poked me in the rib. “I’m not the one with muscles like the Hulk.”
She squeezed one of my biceps, and then sat up again, balancing on her elbow as she brought her fingernail down to continue perusing my skin.
“I love your tattoos,” she said, following the swirls of blue and black ink on my arm.
“Thank you. I’ll send your compliments to my artist.”
She smiled. “What do they mean?”
I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a nervousness roll off of her with those words, like the rubble was settling around us and she’d just realized what we’d done. It wasn’t regret, but rather… fear.
And I felt it zing up my spine, too.
We needed to talk about what this meant, but for once, I wasn’t in a hurry to do so.
Maybe because I was scared of the answer.
“To be honest? Nothing,” I said, watching as she traced the outline of a large eye on the inside of my bicep. “I found the artist online one day and just loved his work. I made an appointment, picked my arm to start, and told him to do whatever he wanted.”
Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. “You let him put whatever he wanted on your skin… permanently.”
“I did.”
“That’s insane.”
I laughed, shrugging. “Maybe. It’s art. I trusted him. Besides, I think…” I frowned, because before the words even left my mouth, I realized it was the first time I was saying them out loud. It was maybe the first time recognition dawned on me at all. “I think so much of my life has been planned out, I wanted something that I had control over.”
“And yet, you wanted freedom within that control.”
We both fell silent at her assessment.
I felt even more naked than I was.
“Speaking of control,” she said, biting her lip as her finger moved from my arm to my chest. “You called me a little slut last night.”
“And you fucking loved it.”
She buried her blush in my chest, and I smiled against her hair, pressing a kiss to it.
“God, I did. I really did. What does that say about me?” she asked, peeking up at me.
“Does it matter?” I brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind one ear. “You don’t need to be ashamed of what you like in the bedroom, Nova. If it turns you on, it turns you on. And for the record,” I added, licking my lips as my eyes fell to her mouth. “It was fucking hot.”
She smirked, leaning up on her elbow once more. Her eyes moved between mine. “Is it fair to say you had some pent-up energy last night?”
“What do you think?”
She touched my jaw, eyes following the movement. “It wasn’t just from us, though, was it?”
I swallowed at that, letting out a long exhale. “My dad called me yesterday.”
Grace snapped her gaze to mine, frowning with concern. “When?”
“As soon as the tournament ended.”
“He wanted to congratulate you?” she guessed, but I could tell from her face that she knew that wasn’t the answer even before she tried it.
“No,” I answered simply.
Grace sighed, then nestled into me, wrapping her arm around me in the fiercest hug from such a small thing. “I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes, holding her, feeling something so strong it was almost overwhelming. I wanted to burrow into it as much as I wanted to shoot it down.
We laid like that for a long while — Grace smoothing her hands over my back while I pressed lazy, slow kisses on her forehead and in her hair. I was almost back to sleep when she tilted her head up, her lips against my neck.
“So… what do we do next?”
The question jolted me awake, but I managed a calm breath, smoothing my hand over her hair. “What do you want to do next?”
At that, she pressed up on her elbow, eyes searching mine.
“Can we just keep driving?”
I knew it was a bad idea. God, hadn’t that been the theme of the whole fucking summer? Ever since that night she’d strutted to the back of the party bus in Austin and sat right next to me, pinning me with that spellbinding smile of hers.
We were driving fast and furious down a dead-end road.
And yet… I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to slow down. I didn’t want a seatbelt or a fucking airbag.
I’d never felt this alive — not in all the thirty years I’d existed.
I knew, eventually, it would all end. I knew there’d come a day when I’d go back to Tampa, back to a new season with her brother as my teammate. And she’d go off on her next adventure with me as just a good story to tell.
But that was later. This was now.
I decided reality could wait.
Because we still had summer.
I kissed her nose, grabbed her by the hand, and put every other thought on mute in my mind as I pulled her up from the mess we’d made.
“Let’s roll, Nova.”
