CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BEAUX
She didn’t remember. Paige didn’t remember telling me she loved me. I knew Paige. In the last two months I knew her so well I was certain I was beginning to know her better than she knew herself.
I’d firmly believed once she remembered telling me she loved me before she passed out, she’d blush when she saw me. Or she’d bring it up and brush it off.
She did neither. She came down for breakfast acting like nothing was wrong, and even when Jaxon was talking about what he’d found at the garage, reaffirming afterward he’d increased the security system there, was planning one installed in the house, and double-checking mine this afternoon, Paige had almost seemed calm.
Too calm. Eerily, spookily, quiet and serene, which wasn’t an emotion I knew her to possess.
I was calm and laid back.
She was stressed and serious.
Type B versus Type A to the max.
While I was boiling with fury and anger and impatience, the fact she’d settled into me like we’re preparing for tea time, was more unsettling than if she’d been a nervous wreck.
There wasn’t a lot I could do. Practice would go for hours, and I needed to get going, so I pulled her out to the front porch, noticing how she scanned her front yard before looking at me.
“Don’t worry,” I said, cupping her cheeks. “Everything will be fine.”
“I know.” She grinned up at me. “I have you.”
Straight to the heart. Almost as beautiful as the other three words she said last night. The fact she obviously didn’t remember, irked me, but I wasn’t going to be a dick and bring it up. If she didn’t mean it, didn’t mean it to say it so early, I wasn’t going to add stress to her life pointing it out.
I just really fucking hoped she meant it.
My eyes searched her, looking for clues and I saw nothing.
Damn. Pain and beauty at the same time stoked the fire in my chest. All the emotions I had for her, everything I felt, pounded against me to let it out. I would. A better moment, a different time, when fear wasn’t lurking behind her hazel eyes.
“Have a good day. I’ll call you later.”
She glanced at the front door and back to me. “Sleepover at your house tonight?”
Which meant getting laid. Multiple times. Lots of places. “I’ll have Jaxon bring you over once I’m home. You going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Eventually. It’s scary, but Mike and Dad are telling me to stay home at least this week, so I’ll just be here with Melanie. Hanging out.”
“No wine,” I teased.
She made a face. “No more wine.”
“All right. I gotta get going. Kiss me.”
She rolled her eyes, but she still moved to her toes, hands on my shoulders and she leaned in. I met her halfway and covered her mouth with mine, slid my tongue into her eager mouth and devoured her. Hot, hard, and quick, when I pulled back, it took her a moment to fall back to her heels and open her eyes.
And that was when I saw it.
Her love for me.
Shining so bright it almost blinded me.
I hurried down the stairs with that look on her face, Paige watching me, and then fucking slapped myself upside the head because I still hadn’t told her about paying her dad’s hospital bill. Or that there was no way she was going back to waitressing.
Fuck.
We had time, though. Plenty of it to get to that tonight after I gave her an orgasm or two.
***
“Beaux—”
God. I hoped the way Paige gritted out my name when she was close to coming would always sound so hot to my ears like it did now.
She was on her back, my arms beneath her legs, spreading her wide at the knees. Her hands were wrapped around the wood slats on my headboard. I had half-dozen different, delicious, visions in my head of how we could use those slats.
They mostly involved her tied to them.
Paige’s entire body was trembling as I pounded into her. There was nothing holding me back. Her hot heat tight around my dick felt like heaven. Every time I sank inside of Paige, I never wanted it to end.
She just felt so damn good.
“Please,” she whimpered. Her eyes were on where we were connected, my dick sliding in and out of her, and hell if I didn’t love that. She always watched. Like she couldn’t believe how glorious it felt to have me inside of her and she didn’t want to miss a minute of it.
“Touch yourself,” I told her. “Get yourself off with me inside you.”
My hips ached from the movement. When she arrived at my house, I didn’t give her much time to talk. She looked too damn beautiful, dressed in a wrap dress I hadn’t yet seen.
Why she dressed up just to come to my house, I didn’t know, but I damn well showed my appreciation by stalking to her, untying the belt at her waist, tossing her purse to the floor and sinking to my knees.
After I’d eaten her, I’d carried her to my room, where I’d played with her some before finally becoming undone with the overwhelming sensation to have her.
But now, I needed her to come again. I needed my release but hell if I was taking mine before giving her another one. There was nothing better than feeling her come around my tongue, and then around my dick.
Addicted. I was addicted to Paige and her cunt and I didn’t give a shit.
“Come on, Paige.” I could barely grunt the words, but she finally listened, slid one of her hands down to her center.
Her fingers went straight to her clit and then spread out, so I was sliding between her fingers.
“Damn.”
Ecstasy. Who needed drugs to get high when making love to a woman was the best possible fucking adrenaline rush in the world.
“Beaux.” Her thighs quivered, her pussy gripped me, and ripples shot through her body until she unraveled, flying high and tossing her head back. She quaked from her orgasm and while she was still in the thrall, I slammed inside of her, gripping her hips and pulling her against me.
“Damn,” I said, “Fucking perfect. Every time.”
She shivered as I held her still, releasing deep inside her.
I collapsed onto her, keeping most my weight off and she wrapped her legs and arms around me, kissing my shoulder, my throat, until I bent down and claimed her mouth.
We were slickened with sweat from exertion, her hair stuck to her cheeks and I brushed it back as I pulled away.
“Phenomenal,” I whispered, peppering her cheek and her lips with kisses. “I love being inside you.”
“I love having you there.”
She grinned at me, that same love shining in her eyes I saw earlier.
Fuck, I wanted to tell her. Needed to tell her, and then was the perfect time.
“Paige—”
Her stomach growled and she laughed, squeezing my dick tight.
“I’m sorry.” She laughed harder and I pulled out of her, rolling to the side. “I haven’t eaten, like all day.”
“We’ll feed you then.”
“We can order in. Pizza?”
“God, no. All that biscuits and gravy from breakfast this morning weighed me down at practice. More carbs tonight would kill me.”
She rolled to her side and kissed my cheek. “You’re such a health nut. Protein shakes and massive amounts of chicken. I’ve seen your fridge.”
“And steak. I love a good steak.”
“Funny.” She winked. “I like a good chunk of meat too.”
“Trust me, I know how much you like your meat.”
She playfully slapped my arm and I grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet as I stood off the bed. “Let’s get cleaned up and get food in you. You’ll need more energy later.”
***
I couldn’t remember a time in my life when everything felt so damn easy. Sure, I had fun. I decided early on when my dream of hitting the NFL became closer to turning into a reality I was going to make sure I enjoyed every damn moment of it. From sponsors and free shoes and a whole host of shit I was given, life was going to be fun.
But it had never felt this enjoyable before, at least not that I could remember. Considering Shannon and I grew up with barely two pennies to rub together half the time, I’d always had to work my ass off for everything I earned.
Football was no different. Hard, grueling, muscle-aching and unending work.
Being with Paige wasn’t work. It didn’t even matter when she was pissed at me or that it’d taken time for her to see the guy I was. When Paige was around me, all the hard work, the grueling workouts, the bad practices, it all paled to how important she was to me.
She made all of it, every moment of the work and the training, worth it to have everything I had so I could give it all to her. She moved around my home like she was made to live there, comfortable in my space. Even though she’d been under a hell of a lot of stress this last year with her dad, then his surgery several weeks ago, and now the letters, when she was with me, it was as if all of that faded to background noise, too.
We clicked, in a way I never truly believed possible. So that even while we were standing in the kitchen, washing and drying dishes after dinner, all I could imagine and think of was her. In my home. Hopefully forever.
She fit there, and I wanted her there. I just knew I’d have to convince her of it. At least with the help of Melanie, she might not feel so guilty of moving out either, and it wasn’t that we didn’t have time to take things slow, we did.
I just preferred to go after what I wanted and not quit until I had it.
And I wanted Paige living with me.
“Last one,” she said, rinsing off a plate, and handing it to me. “What should we do now?”
I dried the plate with a towel and set them down on the counter, blocking Paige in. “I know what I want to do.” I cupped her cheek with my hand. “A little bit more of what we did earlier.”
“Only a little bit?”
Good Lord, I loved her teasing banter.
“We’ll see,” I pressed my lips against hers. “It’ll depend on how much of a good girl you could be.”
“I—” She was cut off by her phone ringing, and even I knew by now it was her dad’s ringtone.
“Get it.” I stepped back and gave her space to reach for her phone. She’d checked it when we came downstairs for dinner and brought her purse I’d thrown to the floor earlier into the kitchen. “We can finish this later.”
“Oh, we will.” She winked at me, still smiling as she answered the phone. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
Her happy look evaporated and her eyes shot to mine.
Cool pricks of ice cascaded down my spine. “What is it?”
“Yeah. Beaux’s here,” she said, ignoring me, but still watching me. “Why do you need—”
Worst-case possible scenarios flashed in my mind and her tone immediately went angry.
“Are you kidding me? No, you can’t talk to him.” She hung up the phone and tossed her phone down. It skated across the counter, stopping precariously on the edge.
“What’s going on? What happened?”
Her brows arched and her hands slammed to her hips. I’d seen that look before in a woman. Typically on Shannon—when she was PMSing and I’d stolen the last of the ice cream.
“What’s wrong?” I asked again. Her chest rose and fell, long, measured movements.
Eventually, she rolled her lips together and then asked, “What’s wrong?”
I was a man. There were questions women asked, in a certain tone, that we learned not to answer or we were a sinking chub in a school of sharks.
I was no fucking chub.
If she was pissed, it could only mean one thing. One thing I should have mentioned earlier but was too consumed with Paige to care to bring it up.
I leaned back against the counter and relaxed. “I take it you heard from the hospital?”