One-Timer (Carolina Comets), page 11
But not before I hear her murmur, “Just friends my ass.”
Ryan was right.
Very, very right.
The final buzzer just sounded, and I am hornier than ever. Watching grown men skate around after a puck and shove on each other shouldn’t be hot, not in the least. But somehow…it is.
Like really, really hot.
“Well…” Ryan says, fanning herself. “That was nice.”
I laugh, because same.
“We going to Slapshots?” Harper asks.
“What’s Slapshots?”
“A sports bar that’s just around the corner. They have a tradition of going after every home opener,” Ryan says. “We can walk there. The guys will meet up with us in a bit after all the hubbub.”
So that’s what we do. We make our way a few blocks over and grab a table, and I learn that “hubbub” means their post-game interviews, a quick workout—which totally blows my mind—and reviewing what went wrong and what went right.
I’d say since they finished the game five to one and won the 15th consecutive home opener of their existence, there was a lot that went right.
We’re not seated at Slapshots long before the guys file in. Everyone cheers when they’re spotted, then returns to their respective drinks, and I like that they have a place they can hang out like this and not be bothered for the most part.
The bartender brings over several beers before the guys even have a chance to sit down, already knowing what they want.
“Hey, Rod. Can we get some sparkling water with lemon whenever you get the chance?”
He looks confused by Lowell’s request, but when Lowell nods toward me, understanding dawns, and he nods, taking off to prepare the drink.
“Thanks,” I say to Lowell as he takes the empty seat next to me, trying hard to ignore how good he looks and smells right now. He has a ballcap flipped backward and is wearing jeans and a shirt with #55 on the chest. Simple, but with the confidence and high he’s riding after winning tonight, he looks ten times hotter.
Or maybe that’s just the horniness talking again.
He winks in response, and I have to fan myself because my face instantly heats.
“You good?”
“Yeah, just…hot. And a little tired.”
“We don’t have to stay long, just a beer and then we can go. I was going to ask if you wanted to come back to my place tonight. Just to…you know…check it out, make sure it’s all good for the baby and everything,” he rushes out. “But if you’re too tired—”
“I’m not,” I say way too quickly. “I’m not too tired. That sounds…good. Nice.”
“Good. Nice.” He smirks. “Okay.”
And that’s exactly what we do.
Lowell has one beer before pushing away from the table, holding his hand my way. “You ready?”
I nod and slip my hand into his, allowing him to help me from the chair. I try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t let my hand go.
“We’re heading out,” he announces to the table.
“Aww, already?” Miller complains, poking his bottom lip out. “Boo.”
“Sorry. I need to get my girls home. They’re tired.”
Harper perks up at his words. “Girls?!”
“Ignore him. We don’t know what we’re having yet. He just thinks he knows it’s a girl.”
“Because it is,” Lowell insists.
I ignore him. “We’ve decided to wait to find out at the twenty-week mark.”
“My money is on a boy,” Collin says.
“Nah. I say girl,” Rhodes chimes in.
“Team girl here too,” Miller agrees.
“You’re officially outnumbered.” Lowell places his hand on my belly. “You hear that? You had better be a girl or you’re grounded.”
I gape at him.
It’s the first time he’s touched my stomach, and the first time he’s talked to the baby. It surprises me—not just because we’re in public and everyone is definitely gawking at us now, but because he does it with such ease, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him.
I like that it’s natural. I like that it’s natural a little too much.
“What?” he asks, and I realize I’m still staring at him.
“Nothing.” I tear my eyes from his as I blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Let’s get out of here.”
Lowell’s house is a lot more modest than I pictured it being. He’s an NHL player who makes more in a year than I’ll probably ever see in a lifetime, and I thought his house would be stories tall on sprawling land with a million windows and marble floors.
Instead, he lives in a gated community on about two acres, and not a single home is gawdy or lavish. It just looks like a normal community for normal everyday people.
“I like your new car,” I tell him, running my hands over the interior of his brand-new Audi SUV.
“I promised you I’d get a new one for the baby.”
I grin because he did promise that, and I love that he kept his promise.
“Don’t worry, Fiona is tucked safely in my garage. Figured it was too cold for her tonight.”
“Oh, phew. I was so worried about her.”
“I know you were.”
He shoots me a grin as he pulls into a short driveway and clicks a button so the garage opens.
Maybe I’m just really ignorant on what hockey players do with their money, but I definitely didn’t expect his garage to house his truck and that’s it.
No, wait—that looks like a bag of golf clubs tucked back in the corner.
We climb out of the SUV, and he leads me into the house via the kitchen. A few smart lights kick on when we enter, and the first thing I notice is the open concept, which leaves the living room visible from every angle in the spacious cooking area. Despite the navy blue cabinets and sleek black granite countertops, the kitchen is bright and open. I bet it’s even more gorgeous in the daytime. The living area contains a couch, a TV mounted to the wall, and two bookshelves lined with odds and ends.
Everything is so…modest.
“Not what you were expecting?” he asks as I take it all in.
“Not at all,” I admit. “I thought there would be more gold.”
He laughs. “Nah. More of a silver guy myself.”
I grin. “It’s a really nice house, Lowell.”
“Thank you. I’d like to take all the credit for it, but I had a designer do it all. I just wanted something simple and sleek that didn’t cost an arm and a leg in case I ever play somewhere else.”
The possibility of that never even crossed my mind, and my heart begins to race thinking about him moving away.
“Is that something that’s going to happen?”
“I plan to Sidney Crosby my career and play for one team, but it doesn’t mean it’s not a possibility.”
My hand instinctively goes to my belly as if to protect my baby from that heartbreak.
He doesn’t miss it.
“Follow me. I have something to show you.”
He leads me down a dark hallway, not stopping until he reaches the door at the very end.
I lift my brows at him, curious.
“I know we haven’t really discussed the mechanics of this whole situation—something we should probably sit down and do—but I’ve been working on something. You know…just in case.”
He pushes the door open and flips on the light.
My jaw drops, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
It’s a nursery.
Not just any nursery either—it’s a beautiful one with a custom design of a midnight mountain-scape stenciled on the wall. The furniture is a soft gray and there are touches of gold and yellow throughout. There’s a half-built crib in the middle of it all, which tells me he’s the one putting everything together himself.
“You did this?” I ask, my eyes darting everywhere, not wanting to miss a single detail.
“Yeah. I’ve, uh, been working on it since the night you told me.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.
“You…have?” He nods. “But you didn’t… You said… You…”
“Panicked. I panicked, but not once in that entire conversation did I say I didn’t want the baby or want to be part of their life. I have always wanted that, and I will always want it.” He steps into me, his hands finding my bump for the second time tonight. He bends at the knees to meet my eyes. “This is forever, Hollis, and I’m all in.”
One.
Two.
Three.
That’s how many seconds I last before I crush my mouth to his.
13
LOWELL
When I asked Hollis to come back to my place tonight, it wasn’t for this. I wanted to show her that I’m ready, that I’m preparing.
I didn’t mean for this to happen.
She kisses me harder, almost like if she does, I’ll respond. I don’t respond because I can’t help but think of the last time she kissed me when she shouldn’t have.
I place my hands on her hips, and she takes it as a sign, pressing into me more. For just a moment, I give in, pressing her back against the nearest wall and devouring her. I slide my knee between her legs, and she moans, rubbing herself against it.
I know it’s wrong and we shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t resist. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so damn badly. I have since the moment I saw her sitting at the bar the night she told me she’s pregnant. I wanted to sprint across that restaurant and pull her into my arms and make up for leaving her behind, and I’ve wanted to kiss her every day since then.
But I haven’t because that’s not what this is about right now. It’s about the baby, not us.
I wrench my mouth away and she follows, trying to kiss me again, but I hold her back firmly.
Her eyes are glassy, her breaths coming in short spurts as she blinks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s… This isn’t why I brought you here.”
“That’s sweet, really, but I’m a big girl. I want this.”
“But what if I don’t?”
Her face drops. “Is it… Is it because I’m pregnant?”
“What?! No, no. That’s not it at all. Hollis, you’re…” Incredible. Gorgeous. Courageous. “It’s not because you’re pregnant.”
She peers up at me, her eyes shiny still, but this time with unshed tears. Her chin wobbles a little as she asks, “Then what is it?”
“It’s just…” I press my forehead against hers, squeezing my eyes shut. “This is already complicated.”
“What is?”
“This…us…”
“I know.” She sighs. “I know. It’s just I…ache.”
It’s like her words are tethered to my cock because the moment they leave her lips, I’m harder than I’ve ever been before. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried.
“Please, Cameron.” She moves her hips, her eyes fluttering shut as she rocks herself against my jean-clad thigh. “Please. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just need something. Anything.”
I can be something.
I can be anything.
“I need you.”
Three words—three words and all the excuses I had fly right out the window.
Without another word, I slam my mouth to hers, then scoop her into my arms and march us through the house. I don’t stop kissing her and I don’t stop walking until I reach my bedroom. Not even when I lay her on the bed and fit myself between her legs do I stop. I don’t stop until she’s fucking herself on my thigh and crying for release.
“More,” she begs. “I need more. Please.”
I kiss my way down her throat and sit back, lifting her along with me. As much as I love seeing her wear my number, I need to see her even more. I peel her t-shirt from her body and toss the material aside, gently pushing her back down. Her brown hair fans around her, her tits, which are filling out more and more, spilling from the cups of her bra.
All I can do is stare because she’s fucking gorgeous. She’s gorgeous just like this, and all I can think about is how much further she has to go and how I can’t wait to watch her grow my child.
I love the idea so much that I kiss her, thanking her with my lips in a way I don’t know how to do with my words. It’s not long before she’s rubbing herself against my thigh again, and I know if I don’t get her relief soon, she’s going to burst.
I kiss my way down her throat and past her breasts, which I promise to spend more time on later. I press kisses over her belly, promising to worship that later too, and I don’t stop until I hit the waistband of her jeans.
Then, I laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, sitting up to look at what I’m seeing.
There’s a small hairband holding the button of her jeans done because her belly is too big to fit. It’s ridiculous and adorable.
“Oh,” she murmurs sheepishly. “That.”
“Yeah, that.” My shoulders shake harder.
She glowers and shoves at my shoulder. “Shut up! It’s not funny. All of my good jeans were in the wash, and I couldn’t get these to button.” She groans, then shoves me again. “Just forget it.”
She tries to wiggle off the bed, but I don’t budge that easily.
“Move,” she demands.
“No,” I say, grabbing her wrists when she starts beating on my chest. I push until her back hits the bed, then bring her arms up over her head and hold them there.
“Let me go, Lowell.”
“Oh, so I’m back to being Lowell now?”
“Yes, because you’re a jerk.”
“I am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not. Now stop moving.”
“You are so annoying. You’re—”
I kiss the insult from her lips, and it takes all of two seconds before she’s moaning and rubbing against me again. My cock is throbbing behind the zipper of my jeans, and I think I need a release just as bad as she does.
But not yet.
She groans when I pull my mouth from hers and trace the same path from before down her neck and over her breasts and belly. This time, the only reason I stop is to undo the makeshift button on her jeans.
She shoves onto her elbows to look at me. “What are you doing?” she mutters, her voice scratchy with lust.
“Tasting you.” I peer up at her. “I can taste you, right?”
She gulps, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth with a nod.
I slide her jeans from her legs, trying not to laugh at her urgency to help me, then reposition myself between them, swiping my tongue over her before she has the chance to protest again.
“Unghhh,” she cries out, arching off the bed. “Oh god. More.”
And I oblige.
I spread her pussy with my tongue, licking and sucking and getting my fill until she’s practically fucking my face. Her hands crash into my hair, holding me to her as she has her way with me, and I’ve never been so happy to be used in my entire life. Her legs begin to shake, and I know she’s close.
I keep the same pressure applied with my tongue as I slowly slide two fingers inside of her. I hook them up, and that’s all it takes.
“Cameron…” she moans, her legs shaking around my head as she comes apart.
I wait for her legs to stop trembling before I slip my fingers out of her and kiss my way back up her body. She’s coated in a light sheen of sweat, and her hair is a mess. It reminds me of the first night we had together, and for a moment, I wish I had never walked away.
I roll until I’m on my back, dragging her along with me. She rests her head on my chest and lets out a contented sigh.
“Give me five minutes,” she promises, her words sleepy and slurred.
Those five minutes never come and neither do I, but I’ve never been more satisfied.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
Hollis puts her hands on her hips, and I try not to stare too long at the baby bump that’s becoming more and more obvious every day.
It’s not that I don’t want to stare—I really want to—but if I stare too long, I’m afraid I’ll do something like rush across her apartment and toss her up on the counter and have my way with her. Seeing my child grow inside her is doing something to me that I never expected.
I like it. A lot.
It’s why I’m over here all the damn time now and can’t remember the last time I spent more than one night in my own bed.
“You really don’t want to find out?”
“No.” She shakes her head, the loose bun on top of it bobbing around as she moves through the kitchen. “I want to be surprised. You’re more than welcome to find out, but I don’t want to know.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just figured you had all these grandiose plans of prepping a baby room with a theme and colors and everything else.”
“I did.” I tip my head, not understanding what she’s getting at. “Before, I mean,” she elaborates. “With Thad.”
Right. Her ex. Her ex who is a huge piece of shit and who I want to punch.
“Why not now, then?”
“I…I don’t know. Maybe I’m picking up hockey superstitions or something, but since none of this is what I had planned for my life, I figured I might as well keep that going and just be surprised.”
Everything over the last few months has been so insane that I almost forgot Hollis hasn’t even been divorced for six months. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling going from happily married to divorced to pregnant by a guy she barely knows all in the span of a year.
It has to be taking a mental toll on her.
“You want to know what I think?” I ask as she sets her fresh glass of water down on the table, climbs back into her spot on the couch, and pulls her computer back into her lap.
It’s a game day for me, and sometime over the last few weeks, this has become our routine until I have to be at the rink. I come over and we lie around on the couch. Sometimes she’ll work, sometimes I’ll read, sometimes we’ll talk, but mostly it’s just about spending time together.
