“Fuck, you should see yourself right now, Frankie.” Warm lips pressed against my right cheek. “You’re fucking astounding.” He gave me no warning before his tongue swept into me from behind. I cried out, arms shaking as he did it again.
Each time. One lick. Stop. Then another. He was teasing me, testing me.
“Valentine.” My fingers clutched the now skewed comforter on my bed. This morning, I’d made it with such precision, expecting to slide into it at the end of the day for rest.
This was anything but restful.
“Is that my name, baby?” Teddy asked, massaging me open.
“No.” I could hardly breathe. Oxygen trickled into my lungs, but it did not fill me the way I needed his tongue to. “Please… Coach.”
“Good girl.” Then, he was there, sucking on me, his mouth making all sorts of obscene sounds that I would hear in my dreams.
His tongue plunged into me, and I arched as he fucked me using nothing more than his mouth. My arms shook, struggling to hold me up.
As if taking pity on me, he pressed a hand to the middle of my back, pushing me forward so my face hit the pillow. Tears built in the corners of my eyes while his fingers rubbed me, and his tongue tasted me, and his scorching breath set me on fire.
By the time my toes curled, and I clenched over and over, the rocket was spent, its final sparks shooting through me.
Then, he was gone, along with his warmth. Strong hands lifted me, turned me over so I was looking up at him, and slid my pants all the way off my legs. His lips glistened and his tongue darted out to clean them as he smirked down at me.
I was deflated into the bed, satiated and content. But when he nudged open my legs and lined himself up, already wearing a condom, I came to life again, wanting him, needing him.
He jerked forward, burying himself fully, not worried if I was ready for him or if I could take every glorious inch.
And fuck, if his control wasn’t the hottest thing I’d ever seen. This man, the one who was always smiling that goofy smile at the rink, never serious, let me yell at him without taking it personally… that man was suddenly so sure of himself, so determined and grim. I couldn’t reconcile the two men, but I wanted them both.
“You doing okay, baby?” he asked. It was the third time he’d called me that. I kept track so I could replay them later.
I didn’t manage coherent words. I was proud of myself for even nodding as he hit the exact spot I needed.
He lowered himself to his elbows, one on either side of my head and kissed me. Hard. So hard I was sure my lips would stay bruised for a week. So hard I didn’t care. His fingers fiddled with my braid, and I was so focused on him moving inside me, I didn’t realize he was undoing it until he fanned my crimped strands over my shoulders.
“I love your hair,” he whispered, his body not stopping. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and that was what did me in. I came so explosively, I screamed his name. Not coach. Or Valentine. Teddy.
He kept pulling out of me and then plunging in as my orgasm abated, speeding up as he neared his own. His mouth was everywhere. On my breasts, licking between them, up over my shoulder to my neck, biting down in that same spot. Except, this time, he left the pain for me to feel.
And I fucking loved it.
His lips crushed mine as he let out a garbled “Fuck, Coach,” and melted on top of me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TEDDY
We didn’t speak much as we lay there beside each other, and that silence gnawed at me. Frankie was too quiet—this wasn’t like her. The woman who’d always had something to say, even if it was just to tease me, was suddenly distant. All I wanted was to hear her return to herself. Even if it was a shout, a soft “fuck,” or a laugh at my expense. Hell, I would have taken anything, just to feel like we hadn’t slipped into some heavy, uncomfortable space.
I’d been with a lot of women in my life. That much, I could admit. I loved the softness of them, the quiet sounds they made. The way they sought connection during intimacy—eye contact, grasping hands. Watching a woman completely unravel beneath my touch? That had always been my favorite thing.
In college, I’d been with men too, a few times, a couple of experiences that were new and experimental. But it didn’t fit the way women did, the way Frankie did.
I didn’t know what to do now. Should I stay? Should I leave? Should I say something utterly idiotic to break the silence? Only minutes ago, I’d been so sure of myself, so in control. But Frankie, she had this way of making me second-guess everything. I’d spent my life being the one who made people feelat ease, the one who lifted them up when they were down. But that wasn’t what Frankie had ever wanted from me.
The smiles that came naturally to me only seemed to make her frown, as if she could see through all the surface-level charm I hid behind.
It left me feeling… adrift.
“So,” I started, exhaling the word, trying to fill the space with something.
