“Good fucking girl,” he groans, his voice strained. He's close too. I can tell by the way his pace falters. “Cum for me, Ellie. I need to feel this pussy squeeze my cock.”
His words push me over the edge. I cum with a scream, my entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. Not even a minute later, I feel Jamie follow me over, his hips stuttering as he spills inside me with a guttural moan.
We stay tangled together as our breathing slows, his weight pressing me into the mattress in a way that feels grounding rather than suffocating. When he finally rolls off me, he pulls me against his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my bare shoulder.
“So,”he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Celebration part one complete.”
I laugh, turning my head to look at him.“Part one? How many parts are there?”
“Well… this was to celebrate our win tonight,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “Then we have to celebrate you moving in with me,”he says, pushing my hair away from neck and leaving a kiss. “And the most important thing to celebrate, is you giving me another shot.” He plants a kiss on my lips before pulling away and looking at me, his eyes full of admiration.
“It’s your last one, you know. You don’t get any more if you screw this up. I mean it,” I tell him firmly. And I do mean it. I won’t do this again with him…I can’t.
“I don’t plan on screwing it up. I don’t plan on ever living without you again, Sweetheart.”
Chapter 43
Jamie
S
omething I’ve always loved to do is people watch. Not in like a creepy way or anything. It’s more because I like to see that other people aren’t perfect. It’s also something my dad and I used to do together. We’d sit at the park near our house for hours, always sitting on the same old bench with the chipped piece on the corner.
Families would rotate in and out with their toddlers throwing fits or enjoying their time on the small playground. Joggers would pass us in steady loops, some focused and some clearly trying to outrun whatever their problems might’ve been. Sometimes we’d overhear someone talking on the phone. We’d make up stories about what their call wasabout. It was like having little pieces of other people’s lives that weren’t meant for us, that took us away from whatever we were dealing with at the time. I think that’s what I like about it. You can learn a lot about people when they don’t know anyone is paying attention.
And as I sit in the back row of the crowded auditorium, I watch as people enter and find their seats. Faculty, parents, students all coming to see the show Ellie helped build. She’s been stressed about this all week, and I’ve been doing my best to keep her calm. Mostly that’s been giving her earth-shattering orgasms which has seemed to do the trick.
It’s been incredible getting to know her again. Not the version I remember. The real one. The woman she’s become. Ellie Monroe has always been brilliant, that part never changed. But now I see everything I was too young and too stubborn to appreciate before.Every day she lets me back into her world and lets me witness the woman she’s become, and every day I feel like the luckiest guy in the world to even be in her presence.
“Mr. Patterson? Are you here for the show?” a familiar voice asks. When I look up, Dean Ashby is heading down the aisle, taking the empty seat next to mine. I want to tell him to go find another fucking seat, but that would probably be frowned upon. I’d also like to tell him that question is stupid. What other reason would I be here for? The popcorn?
“I am. I assume you are too?”
He nods. “Of course. I’ve been looking forward to this all semester. Ms. Monroe is very talented.”
“She is,” I agree, turning back to face the stage. The red curtain sways under the slight breeze from people walking by. Ashby follows my line of vision, landing on the curtain.
“You did well with those boys this semester. They needed someone to take charge. They needed to learn to work together as a team. Whatever you did, I want you to do it again next semester.”
What the fuck? That’s the last thing I expected him to say.
Clearing my throat, I turn to face him, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Martin. I uh… I don’t plan on returning next semester. My injury is just about healed, and I’ll be going back to the Storm to start training. But I’m glad I could help.”
His jaw ticks. “I understand. I figured that might happen. Can’t blame an old man for trying though, can you?” he asks with a low chuckle.
“No, I guess not,” I say with a shrug.
“Enjoy the show, Mr. Patterson. And good luck. The Storm is lucky to have you.”
Ashby stands from his seat and walks off, his hands in his pockets.
Well, that was fucking awkward.
Fifteen minutes later, the auditorium is packed to the brim. I’ve been in arenas packed with twenty thousand people. I’ve heard playoff crowds roar so loud the ice vibrated beneath my skates. But this feels different. There’s no yelling, no whistles, not loud buzzers or horns. It’s just people having quiet conversations, waiting patiently for the show to begin.
A spotlight glows on the middle of the stage. The audience claps as the curtains rise, and when theydo, the first thing I notice is Ellie standing just off to the side in the wings, a headset on and a clipboard tucked against her chest. She looks calm and determined. She looks like she’s exactly where she belongs. I know she’s said she prefers acting, and she’s insanely talented, but directing might by another way for her to go.
I lean back in my seat, my knee bouncing despite myself. I don’t get nervous watching hockey anymore; I don’t usually get nervous before games.
