Sidney
I'd been staring at the text I'd written to Killian off and on for the last twenty four hours, never working up the nerve to hit send.
Me: Can you come by my place tonight to talk?
I had been about to send it when I stopped. Damn him. He'd thrown a childish fit and stormed out of my office. He was the one who should be texting me.
Just then Nicole walked into my office, a greeting card in her hand.
"Sympathy card for Lenny Marino. He lost his mother a few days ago."
I knitted my brows together and waved her over. "I didn't know that."
"I'm sorry, I should've told you."
"No, I didn't mean it like that. Thanks for picking up the card." I took the pen she held out and scrawled my signature on the card.
"My list is done. What else can I do?" she asked. "The dry cleaning isn't ready yet."
Since I'd dressed her down over her outfit, Killian, and her general laziness, Nicole had been a model employee. I was relieved to finally have a decent assistant.
"Sounds like you're done for the day," I said. "And if you want to go home this weekend, book a flight on my credit card. I don't expect you to stay here every weekend."
"It's fine." She picked up the card, took the pen and left my office.
Did she think I was bothered by her frosty attitude? I wasn't. At all.
But my fight with Killian had been on my mind constantly. I'd tossed and turned for hours in bed last night. No matter how hard I tried to step back and see what I'd done wrong, I couldn't come up with anything.
We needed to talk about it. I grabbed my phone and pressed send. If he didn't respond, I'd know where I stood with him.
My phone dinged with a return text just a few seconds later.
Killian: I'll be there. Is six okay?
I breathed out a sigh of relief and wrote back that it was.
Though it was earlier than I ever left work, my focus was shot. I powered down my computer, grabbed my stuff and headed out.
As I made dinner this time my mood was more somber than it had been the last time I'd known Killian was coming over. Mechanically, I prepared the scallops and the salad, my mind wandering.
Hopefully I wasn't assuming too much by making dinner. I was still mad, and he probably was, too. But I was hungry, dammit, and he didn't have to eat if he didn't want to.
The doorbell rang, and I took a fortifying breath before walking into the foyer to answer it.
I opened the door and looked Killian over. His expression was unreadable.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"That's why I texted you."
"Smartass."
I stepped aside and he came in. When I closed the door, we regarded each other in silence.
"I didn't ask you over here so I could beg for forgiveness," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "But since I made the first move, I'll let you say what you want to say first."
"What's cooking?" He looked toward the kitchen. "It smells really good."
"Scallops."
He nodded and looked down at his feet. After a few seconds, he looked back up and met my eyes.
"I'm sorry I got so mad at you," he said. "I realize I overreacted."
"It was a shock. I thought you'd be happy, and I wasn't prepared for that reaction. But I could've handled it better, too. So, I'm sorry too."
He took off his hoodie and threw it on the couch. "Do I get to stay for dinner?"
"First you have to apologize for saying I shoved your face in my cunt."
His brows arched with amusement. "Why? You did. It was fuckin' hot."
"You make me sound like a sex-crazed maniac who makes you service her."
"You're making me hard, Sid."
I glared at him. "I'm serious. You want the scallops, you apologize for what you said."
"It wasn't an insult!"
"How would you feel if I made a comment about you ramming your cock down my throat?"
"Turned on."
I rolled my eyes and threw up my hands. "Fine. Forget it."
He laughed softly and covered the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me.
"Hey, I was teasing." He tipped my chin up so we were at eye level. "I'm sorry for making you feel like shoving my face in your pussy was anything but amazing. I loved it, Sid. I jerked off in the shower while thinking about it this morning."
"Okay, you can stay for dinner."
"Should I ram my cock down your throat so you can make a comment and we'll be even?"
I couldn't help smiling. "You've got to play a lot of cards right before that's happening, Captain."
We headed into the kitchen and he helped me get dinner on the table. We ate a few bites before talking again.
"So I need to tell you something," he said, setting his fork down. "Something I don't talk about much."
"Okay."
He rubbed both hands over his face and took several sips of wine.
"So I grew up in a small town in Maryland," he said. "My parents tried for a kid for several years before they had me. And then my dad passed away suddenly before I turned one."
"I'm so sorry."
He nodded his acknowledgement. "My mom never remarried. She raised me on her own. And even though money was tight, she always found enough for me to play hockey. I started playing when I was five and I was hooked. She was in the stands of every game I ever played. The day I got my scholarship offer, she cried her eyes out. Said it was the best day of her life."
He was looking down at his plate as he spoke. I wanted to move closer to him, but I stayed still, wanting to give him my full attention.
"So she moved to State College to be able to attend my college games. And at the start of my senior year, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was advanced, stage four. She fought it, but ... it was a losing fight. It would've been for anyone. She died three months before my graduation."
His voice had wavered a couple times and he paused to regain himself. My heart broke for him. Both parents gone, and he was only twenty-six.
"I went off the deep end for a while," he continued. "I wanted to drop out of school with every fiber of my being, but me graduating from college was my mom's dream. But playing in the NHL lost all appeal for me. I just couldn't. I couldn't stand the thought of that first game, knowing she wouldn't be in the stands. I hated the money. She sacrificed for me and I played hard knowing I'd buy her a dream house and pay for her to travel the world when I made it. I don't know if it makes sense, but making a lot of money when she was gone ... it became painful for me. I just couldn't."
"It makes sense." I reached across the table and took his hand. "Killian, I'm so sorry. If I'd had any idea, I never would've—"
"I know." He squeezed my hand.
"This is why you sabotaged yourself," I said softly as realization dawned. "You wanted to scare the NHL teams away from you."
He shrugged, finally looking up at me. "Sort of. The reckless behavior was just me hurting over my mom. But when I started to make the connection that I was becoming the guy no one would touch, that motivated me to keep doing it."
"You've done well for yourself," I said. "Coping with all that pain and still finding your way back to pro hockey, in a way that worked for you."
"I don't know. I thought I had it all figured out until you came along. But now ... dammit, this makes me sound like a pussy."
"It doesn't. Just say it."
"Now I think about you watching me from the stands. Or your throne in the box, whatever."
I poked him in the ribs. "I don't have a throne, Killian."
"I've got someone to play for again. Getting in trouble isn't fun anymore."
I got up from my seat and went to his, swinging a leg over his lap and sitting down. We were chest to chest, and I took his bristled cheeks in my hands.
"Nothing anyone has ever said to me has made me feel as good as what you just said. If you're on the ice, I'm watching you. And whether it's a good idea or a bad one, this is happening. You and me. It's already happening, and I want to stop pretending we can stop it. I don't want to stop it."
"Me either. But I don't want to make problems for you."
"I need to be with you more than I need to avoid those problems," I said, resting my forehead on his. "I'll handle it, if anything comes up."
"Yeah, speaking of things coming up ..." He grabbed my ass and pushed me against him, making me sigh against his mouth from the feel of his erection.
"So your vulnerability sealed the deal," I said. "Now I have to let you ram your cock down my throat."
He arched a brow at me and grinned. "Damn right. Why do you think I told you all that?"
His lips brushed against mine and he pulled me against him tightly. Our kiss started soft and slow, both of us savoring it. When Killian's lips wandered down to my jaw line and then to my neck, my desire turned into need.
"Can we be done with dinner?" I said.
"Hell yes, we can." He scooted the chair back from the table and stood, picking me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me through the kitchen, my lips on his neck now. I couldn't get enough of his salty skin. I kissed, nibbled and even bit him on the trip to my bedroom.
"Damn," he said in a low tone. "That feels good. But you need to lay still and be a good girl while I finish what I started in that storage room."
He eased me down onto the bed, our bodies never disconnecting.
"I want all of you," I said in his ear. "I want you inside me."
"Patience, baby. You need to learn how to take orders instead of giving them all the time."
His commanding tone only increased my desperation. He slid my shirt off and teased my nipples though my satin bra. His mouth was warm, even though the fabric. And when he ventured lower, to my stomach, my back arched up from the bed.
"Pinch your nipples," he said, looking up at me through hooded eyes after kissing my belly button. I hesitated for a second before complying. I'd never touched myself in front of a man, but for the first time, I wanted to.
I squeezed my nipples through my bra, which was wet from his mouth. The harder I pinched, the better it felt. I was burning with pleasure and pain as Killian undressed me the rest of the way, saving my bra for last.
Then he lowered his face to my thighs, kissing up and down the insides until I was a moaning mess of frenzied nerve endings. He spread my legs wide apart and brushed his tongue across my clit, stopping just in time to stop me from climaxing.
"Killian," I cried, "I'm so close. Please let me come with you inside me."
A deep groan vibrated in his chest. "You sure?"
"A thousand percent. Please."
He eyed me with a mixture of reverence and lust as he stood to drop his boxers and jeans to the floor. He made quick work of getting a condom out of his wallet and rolling it on.
His warmth radiated against my skin when he returned to his position on top of me.
"Remember what I said, Sid," he said, looking into my eyes. "I can't go back after this. Once you come, you're mine."
"As long as you're mine, too." I ran my hands up his hard biceps, over his shoulders and neck and into his hair.
"I'm already yours." He entered me in a single, powerful thrust and my body instinctively arched against him.
"More," I said, panting the word out.
He kissed me, his tongue caressing mine softly. Then he took my wrists in his hands and pinned them over the top of my head. My lack of control was an erotic thrill. I trusted him to take care of me in ways I'd never known.
I kept my eyes on him as he thrust himself into me, deep and slow. His expression was twisted with satisfaction, his muscles flexed and tense.
When he began pounding into me hard and fast, I found myself at the brink in a hurry. The physical and emotional sensations pulled me under and I cried out Killian's name over and over. The sound of him grating out my name as we came together made me feel blissfully powerful.
He kissed me and got up to throw away the condom. When he came back around the corner, the warmth of his return washed over me before he'd even gotten to the bed.
We wrapped ourselves around each other, talking in whispered tones as the sun set and blanketed the room in darkness.
I was his, and he was mine. For once, I wasn't thinking of anything beyond this moment, and nothing had ever felt better.