WHAT THE FUCK had just happened? It took about ten or fifteen panicked seconds for my brain to kick in. I scanned the room in a desperate attempt to figure out what I could have possibly done wrong this time, what I was missing. Nothing came close to cluing me in until my eyes landed on the adult coloring books I’d ordered sitting on the coffee table—the one with pinup girls at the very top of the stack—with the ripped-open mailer haphazardly discarded next to them.
Just like that, everything clicked.
Not bothering to put on clothes or even shoes or a coat, I took off after Bea. Even though she could power-walk like nobody’s business, my legs were still longer than hers, my stride far more powerful. I caught up to her just as she was loading her bags into the trunk of her waiting getaway car.
“Bea!” I shouted and reached for her hand to stop her.
She whirled around on me, her cheeks wet with tears, her arm raised as if to slap me, her fingers curling like she wanted to punch me in the nose.
Maybe I deserved it.
Actually, I was almost positive deserved it. I usually did. That was the way most things in my life always went, wasn’t it?
Only, now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I did this time. She’d misinterpreted something, a huge mix-up, but that wasn’t my fault. I’d still let her hit me, though, if it meant getting her to come back into my condo so we could talk through the misunderstanding, because I hadn’t explained things in advance.
“Let go of me,” she bit off, jerking her arm with more force than I’d realized she could produce. She was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked, which turned me on in a twisted sort of way.
I stifled the lust coursing through my veins. “No, I won’t let go of you. Not yet. I’m not letting you leave like this. We need to talk.”
Willing to take whatever she could dish out, I stood my ground, refusing to release the hand I’d grabbed because I couldn’t let her leave. Not like this, at least. I was already losing Grandma, and there wasn’t a single motherfucking thing I could do to prevent that; I couldn’t lose Bea, too, especially not over something we could talk through like adults.
She didn’t strike me, but it seemed like a near miss. “Let me go,” she ground out, her voice laced with a devastating combination of anger and pain.
“You agreed to explain shit to me. Now’s a good time to do that.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Well, I have things I need to say to you, and you’re going to listen.”
“You okay, lady?” the scrawny, pimpled Uber driver asked. He had his cell phone in his hand, and it was already halfway to his ear. “Need me to call for help?”
“I’m fine,” she bit off and turned back to me. “What the hell could you possibly say that I would want to hear? And just why do you think I’ll be willing to listen?”
The fact that she’d used a curse word, however mild, only further proved how upset she was. I’d never heard her say so much as darn it before. I wasn’t even positive words like that were in her vocabulary prior to spending time around me. Probably weren’t, because of her students. She’d never curse in front of them, which was just one more thing I adored about her.
And that was what she had to understand. I loved her. I loved her more than I could bear, and she loved me, too.
Didn’t she?
“You’re going to listen because you love me,” I said, and she froze, glaring at me.
I hoped like hell I was right.
No one had ever loved me before other than Grandma, though, so I could only cross my fingers that I wasn’t reading too much into the ways Bea had been responding to me lately.
“You love me,” I continued, “and I love you, and we need to find a way to make this work.”
“You don’t love me.”
I noticed she didn’t deny that she loved me, latching on to her admission by omission as a lifeline. “Bullshit. I do. And so do you. And it isn’t just physical, either.” It had to be more than physical. She would never have allowed the physical side of our relationship to get as far as it had if she didn’t love me, or so I had to believe.
“It’s definitely not physical on your side.”
“And whose fault is that? Who won’t allow me to see her?”
“Whatever, Blake. You just think you can control me, the same as my family’s always done. But you don’t love me; you just want to use me. You want me to fill certain needs you’ve got, but that’s all it would be—using me. And then you’ll meet your other needs by going behind my back to do it. You can probably have any woman you want while you’re on the road with the team.”
“And why the fuck would I want someone else?”
“You want someone who looks like those women in that book you ordered.”
“You mean those drawings? The ones that aren’t even remotely realistic? I’ve never met a woman in real life who looks like those pictures. I want a fucking real woman.”
“Yeah, a real woman with a perfect body,” she bit off with a sob.
“I don’t want a fucking Barbie doll. And there’s no such thing as a perfect body.”
“Obviously not where I’m concerned.”
Fuck, this wasn’t going well. Getting through her haze of self-hatred was proving to be far more difficult than I’d ever imagined. Should’ve realized it would be next to impossible, though, because getting anything through my thick skull was next to impossible. Why should it be any easier with her?
“I want you,” I insisted.
“A perfect Barbie doll or two in every city you play in,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard me, “just like in that coloring book. And stupid, fat Bea will be back at home waiting for whatever crumbs you feel like throwing her way.”
“It’s just a coloring book. I don’t want you to look like those pictures. I knew what I was getting when I signed up for this.”
“Yeah, and what’s that? Some old fat chick who isn’t good enough for you, so you can use her for whatever you want.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t think you’re good enough for me—not me. You might as well have just said as much yourself. I think you’re perfect. Or at least you’re perfect for me, which is all that matters.”
“You just want me to take the place of your Grandma,” Bea spluttered, tears bubbling over as she blatantly ignored every argument I made.
“What?” I demanded.
“You want someone who can take care of you. That’s all I am to you. I’m just a replacement for your grandmother once she’s gone.”
Talk about kicking me when I was already down. “Don’t go there. Don’t bring her into this.”
“Why not? It’s the truth. Even she could see you needed someone else to keep you in line. That was the only reason she encouraged me to go along with any of this.”
“I’m not using you!” I almost shouted. “I want to be with you.”
“Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Blake.” She tried to shrug me off again, but I tightened my grip.
“Blake?” the driver said, making us both jump since we’d essentially forgotten he was there. “You’re Blake Kozlow, right? The Storm player? I thought you looked familiar.”
“We’re kind of busy here,” I bit off.
“You don’t have to be rude to him,” Bea said.
Fuck a duck, she was right, and the last thing I needed was for this guy to spread shit all over social media. I’d already done enough of that on my own for one lifetime.
Maybe Jim Sutter had been willing to overlook my foul-up once before, but I couldn’t delude myself into believing I had carte blanche with him.
“Sorry,” I said, glaring in his direction, and he shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender even though he wasn’t the one who’d done anything wrong. I could only hope he wouldn’t immediately pull up Facebook or Twitter and start posting a bunch of shit about me having a fight with my girlfriend out in the street.
Girlfriend. The word felt right. We hadn’t made anything official, but hell if I didn’t want it to be as official as I could make it. That lit a new fire under my ass.
“I’m still not buying it,” Bea said. “Your interest in me has never made any sense. Not if I use my brain.”
“Maybe your brain is what’s fucking with you, then. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I think we both know that’s the truth.”
“Exactly. We do. So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t think it’s all only in my head. There’re too many signs pointing toward me being right about this.”
“What fucking signs? A goddamned coloring book?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?” I almost shouted. “That one tiny thing is enough to send you into a tailspin after the last couple of weeks?”
“And the photo shoot. You were trying to make me into something I’m not.”
“I was trying to help you see that you’re not what you think you are!” I countered, my frustration starting to boil over. “Everyone else can see it. It’s just you. You and your fucking twisted brain screwing with you.”
“It isn’t just me.” And this time, she really did start crying, damn it all. “Everyone who looks at us will see it. They’ll wonder why someone like you would bother being with someone like me.”
“Who the hell is this ‘everyone’ you keep bringing up?”
“Everyone! The whole world. Dani—”
“Let’s leave Dani out of this. That chick hates me.”
“Maybe she’s right to hate you. Maybe I should, too.”
“But you don’t,” I insisted. “You don’t hate me. You fucking love me.”
“You sure you don’t need me to call the cops?” the driver interrupted. “I’m thinking I should maybe call them.”
“Do you want him to call the police?” I asked Bea, forcing myself to remain as calm as possible. Bea was already agitated enough for the both of us, and that damned driver wasn’t much better. “Do you want to have me arrested?” That’d go over really well with the team.
Yeah, the team had agreed to give me a second chance, but getting arrested for fighting with my girlfriend out in the middle of the street while wearing nothing but my fucking briefs?
Timbuktu, here I come. I’d never play another game in the NHL.
“No,” she finally muttered, her scowl directed at her feet.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Then can we go back inside and talk about this like adults? It’s cold out here.”
“Not my fault you didn’t put on any clothes before chasing after me. Doesn’t seem very adult-like.”
My eye roll was so big it should’ve given me a crick in my neck. “Yeah, I know. I’m stupid and immature.”
“I didn’t say—”
“If I’d done that,” I interrupted, “you would’ve been gone by the time I got out here. Running away instead of confronting me? Also not very grown up. I’m not the only one being immature.”
Her expression soured and turned sulky, so I knew I’d scored on that point.
“Come on,” I said, deciding it was time to take advantage of her too-brief moment of acquiescence. I dropped my grip on her arm and threaded my fingers through hers. I wanted to coax her to come with me, not force her.
She allowed it, so I tugged her bag out of the guy’s trunk again with my free hand.
“I’m not so sure about this,” the driver said. “I don’t like it.”
“I’m fine,” Bea insisted.
She wasn’t fine, but I didn’t want to argue the point out here. As it was, we’d be lucky if none of my neighbors were filming us and streaming it live on the internet. Besides, the sooner I could get her inside so we could talk, the sooner I could help her get fine again. Or better than fine if I was lucky.
I really hoped I could get lucky—in more than one way.
“I’d give you a tip for sticking around and waiting for her through all of this,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the guy, “but I don’t have any cash on me.”
“I wouldn’t want it even if you did. Not keen on touching money that’s been rubbing up against some other guy’s junk or something.”
A few dozen stupid comebacks tickled my tongue, begging me to let them fly, but I kept them in check. Maybe I was finally learning to keep my lips zipped when necessary. I could hope, at least.
Instead, I headed for my door, tugging both Bea and her bag in my wake.
“I’ll tip you through the app,” Bea called out over her shoulder, but he was already back in his car and driving away, fastening his seat belt as he went. Probably wanted to get the hell away from the crazy, almost-naked dude chasing after a chick and arguing in the street despite the freezing temperatures.
I made a mental note to call Jim Sutter once this was all sorted out—just in case the driver or one of my neighbors was posting about the fiasco online. But that would have to wait until Bea and I were okay again.
I’d left the front door open on my way out, but I closed it behind us when we reentered.
Bea looked ready to bolt again just because of that, so I intentionally left the door unlocked. Didn’t want her to think I was forcing her to stay.
“I know why you’re upset,” I said.
“You don’t—”
“It’s those coloring books.”
She scowled.
“I thought we’d agreed we would talk about things instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“Didn’t seem like there was anything we needed to talk about.”
“No? Just proves that you’ve jumped straight to the worst possible conclusion.”
She crossed her arms in a self-protective gesture. “Well, what else am I supposed to think? It’s obvious what kind of woman you go for.”
“Yeah, I’d think so, but it seems not. Women who can kick my ass when I need it—that’s what I want. And apparently I need my ass kicked often.”
“More like women who look like supermodels,” she scoffed.
“Do you see any supermodels in here?” I demanded.
She pointed at the fucking coloring book with a duh expression obscuring her face.
“The only supermodel I see in here is you. The only supermodel I want is you.”
“Yeah, sure. Supermodel.” She must have been taking eye-rolling lessons from Dani Williams, because she’d never rolled them quite so impressively before.
“Do you need to look at the pictures from the shoot again?”
She glared, but I could tell her façade was starting to crumble.
“What the hell do I have to do to convince you that I want you? You, Bea. Only you.”
“I don’t—”
But before she could finish her thought, I cut her off by kissing her like I’d never kissed her before—like I was desperate.
Because I was.
I was desperate for her to believe me.
Desperate for her touch.
Desperate to be inside her again, and I didn’t think there was any better way of convincing her than by showing her exactly what I wanted and craved and needed.
Desperate to convince her I loved her.
At first, she pushed against my chest, trying to fend me off, but she didn’t put much effort behind it. When I slid my tongue along the seam of her lips, she opened with a frustrated groan of longing, and then her fingers were digging into my shoulders with the same kind of frenetic lust that was coursing through my body.
Only for me, it wasn’t just lust. And I didn’t think it was for her, either.
“Condoms,” I murmured against her lips. I took hold of her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Need a condom. In my bedroom.”
Both of us ripping at her clothes as we went, I nudged her backward through the hall toward my bedroom, but we bumped into the wall and ended up staying there. As soon as I got her shirt up and over her head, I dug my fingers into the softness around her waist and kissed a wet trail from her chin down to the soft swell above her bra.
“Not like this,” she said, the words coming out sounding both frantic and heated at once. “Turn off the lights. There’s too much light.”
In a condo like this, there would always be too much light. I had huge, open windows spanning the entire outside wall, so during the day it was as bright as the outside world and at night the lights of the city brightened every room.
Or maybe I should say that there would be too much light for her until she finally gave up and realized that she was beautiful.
And apparently, it was up to me to convince her.
And besides that… “I need to see you, Bea.” I slipped a finger inside one cup of her bra and tugged it down enough that I could lower my head and flick her hard nipple with my tongue. “I need to touch you. I need to be with you. I need you.”
Her entire body shuddered, which gave my semi all the encouragement it needed to grow up and join the big boys’ club.
I ground my hips against her softness as I raised my head again, claiming her lips for a searing kiss before tasting every fucking inch of her flushed face, her sleek neck, her perfect shoulders.
Instead of pushing me away, she flung her arms around my shoulders, one hand pressed to the back of my head and guiding me where she wanted me.
Fuck yes. My dick stood up at full attention.
“How do you do this to me?” she demanded, breathless and bossy at the same time, which only made me harder.
“Same way you drive me crazy.”
My lips found hers again, and she barely needed any prodding to open up and let me in. And then we were both pawing at what remained of her clothes, discarding them as quickly as we could. I lifted her off her feet, leaning into her and pressing her back against the wall, one knee between her thighs to help her balance. Her shoes hit the wall and clattered to the floor as I fumbled with her button and fly.
She shimmied her hips around. I backed away enough that she could free the jeans from her hips, and then they tangled around her ankles.
We both laughed like loons.
Fuck, but I loved laughing with her. I missed that. We’d laughed so much on that first date, all those months ago, with Dani and Harry.
Her laughter turned me on more than anything I thought possible.
I held her steady so she could kick her jeans free, my palms settling on the soft flesh of her outer thighs. But the laughter fizzled away when I lowered my lips to the silky spot just above her bra. Her breathing turned sharp, erratic.
I pointed my tongue and licked a trail across her collarbone, and she shuddered, her legs squirming against me like she couldn’t decide what to do with them.
All I wanted to do was wrap those thighs around my waist and drive into her until I couldn’t think anymore. Until she couldn’t think anymore—actually, that seemed like it ought to be the ultimate goal. Until all she could do was call out my name while her pussy quivered around me, if she could even remember my name with all that happening.
To that end, I hitched my hands beneath her thighs and carried her into my bedroom.
“What are you doing?” Bea demanded, sounding frantic as she squirmed in my grip.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Put me down. I’m too heavy. You’ll hurt your back or something.”
But despite her squirming, I managed to flip on the light switch in my bedroom.
“No lights,” she pleaded, trying to cover herself.
“Yes.”
“Blake…” She tried to fling an arm over her breasts, but I tugged her hand away so they’d fall however they would. “They just jiggle so much. It’s embarrassing.”
“The jiggly bits are my favorite bits.”
She arched a disbelieving brow. I kissed her just there.
“You don’t really understand men, you know that?” I said, ripping back the blankets so I could sit down and haul Bea onto my lap.
She straddled my thighs, her wide, dark eyes full of heat, holding her weight off me. “How do you mean?”
“The parts you want to hide are the parts we’re into the most.”
She let out a hmph of disbelief and sent her hair flying. “You shouldn’t have done that. Carrying me like that.” But she didn’t try to pull away or climb off me.
I shrugged. “Too late to undo it.”
She almost smiled. “You’re awful.”
“I know.” I pecked her on the tip of her nose. “And you’re hot.”
“Don’t—”
“You’re hot,” I repeated, pressing a finger to her lips to shush her before she could tell me more lies about how unhot she was.
She pursed them and kissed the very tip, which made me think about those lips kissing the tip of another part of my anatomy. But frankly, I’d rather have that part of my anatomy kissed by a different pair of her lips.
“I’ll never look like those comics,” she said.
“Good. I don’t want you to.”
“I don’t look like I should be with you.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
“You’re famous.” Her dark eyes locked on mine. “People have expectations.”
“People can go fuck themselves, then. They don’t get to decide who I take home with me.” But then another thought struck me. “Are you worried what they’ll say about you online or something? On Twitter?”
“Not exactly…”
“Which means you are,” I inferred. Damn it. She might have a point about the fans saying shit, but I didn’t want her worrying about anything like that.
“I don’t care what anyone says about me. I don’t pay attention to that stuff. But you’ve got a history…”
Yeah, I did. And not a good one. That very history was what had led to us getting to know one another, though, so it wasn’t all bad. “Leave it to me to handle that. I’ll get the team’s PR crew to help me if it comes to that.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Bea said.
“I’ll do my best. On one condition.”
She arched a brow.
“You stop arguing with me and let me show you just how fucking gorgeous you are.”
Bea tried to give me a stern look, but then she dissolved in laughter.
I swallowed her laughter with a kiss…and flipped us around until I was on top of her. Her dark curls splayed out across the mattress, and a surprised look widened her eyes, but her body softened beneath me.
Because I tickled her ribs, and she laughed. She laughed so hard that she snorted, which made me laugh, too.
But then we were kissing again, and stripping off the rest of our clothes. I kissed and caressed her all over, worshipping every inch of her skin and making sure she knew how much she turned me on.
Even after I made her come and she curled up in my arms, she was still laughing.
I hoped I could always make her laugh.