“Why are you torturing me?” I half growl, half whine as I slap his chest once he’s standing up, towering over me again. I can feel his hard length between us and reach down to wrap my hands around it. But he stops me, his hand covering mine.
“Because I need to feel that pussy squeezing my dick. Holding me inside of you, where I belong.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” I mumble against his lips, feeling his curve up in response.
“Are you aching and desperate for me like I am for you?” He leans back giving me an arrogant smirk.
My head bobs up and down.
“Good.”
Fingers probe my entrance, sliding in and out easily as I gasp and let my head fall back, eyes closed. He teases me just for a minute or two more before withdrawing. My eyes fly open and I’m about to let him know just how I feel about this edging, but then I hear the telltale crinkle of the condom wrapper, and when I look down, he’s rolling it onto his cock.
“Fucking finally.”
Ronan just laughs at my impatience. With one hand, he lifts my leg, encouraging me to wrap it around his waist. He has to bend his knees slightly to line us up, and then he’s thrusting into me, shallow at first, then deeper every time until our hips meet, flush against one another and he’s fully inside of me.
“God, yes,” I moan, and the sound echoes in the dim bathroom.
His mouth covers mine for a second, then without fully lifting his lips from mine, he whispers, “Shh.”
Slowly, he starts to move. In and out. Our height difference makes his cock stroke my inner walls at just the right angle, the slight curve to his cock hitting me with every snap of his hips. The cool tile behind me contrasts with the intense heat of the water and of Ronan’s body against mine.
With all his teasing earlier, it’s all I can do to hold off my orgasm. I might want the release, but I don’t want this to end.
“Fuck, Willow,” he whispers against my skin as our foreheads press together under the spray of the shower. “I can’t hold off, Cherry. I’m sorry. I have to —”
He’s cut off by his own orgasm, and his low groan triggers my own as I gasp and writhe in his arms, my body clenching around his throbbing dick that I swear, I feel pulsing inside of me.
His head drops to my shoulder as he takes in a ragged breath before lifting his head to press the sweetest of kisses to my lips.
To my surprise, tears gather in my eyes. It hits me then, all the times I thought I saw something unreadable or undefinable on his face — it wasn’t that I couldn’t read him. I just wasn’t ready for the truth of what was written so clearly.
He loves me. This man loves me.
And I love him, too. I just have to be brave enough to tell him.
A little while later, we’re tangled together in his bed. I’m back in my bra and panties and Ronan’s wearing his pajama pants to give us some hope of restraint. I can’t stay the night, as much as I want to. The chance of getting caught sneaking out of his room goes up exponentially tomorrow morning. Which means I have to leave soon. But not right now.
Right now, I’m warm and comfortable, cuddled up against his side. His hand is drawing lazy circles across my bare skin, and his lips keep pressing soft kisses to the top of my head. There’s an easy silence between us, and in that space, my mind starts to fill in the gaps, illuminating the parts of our relationship I tried to ignore.
The parts where I held back, afraid to tell him my deepest fears.
“In university, I had this professor. She was a former journalist. And she used to tell us stories of her time spent working the sports circuit. How women were treated as second-rate, about the rampant misogynism. It was horrible. She warned all of us girls that we’d have to work double hard for half the reward if we went into sports. That we’d constantly be fighting to prove we belonged in that space. That message never left me.” I suck in a deep breath, letting the feel of his hand on me settle me. “When Uncle Mike offered me the internship, I almost said no. The Tridents were where I always wanted to work, but I wanted to earn my way. But in the end, Uncle Mike agreed he would never get involved in my career path, and he pointed out that using connections wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.” A small smile graces my face remembering that conversation. “Still, that fear of being seen as nothing more than a nepotism hire, the niece who couldn’t get a job on her own, the woman who needed a man’s help to get anywhere, it never really faded. Even after years of hard work, proving I belonged, and that I had value. It’s never fully gone away. I struggle with it, even now. But anyway, about a year after I graduated and started my real job working for the team, the Vicki Daws story broke.”
I see him frown in confusion. It’s possible he never knew about this, but it’s something I’ve never forgotten.
“She worked in HR for a team in Arizona. And she started to date one of the players. I’m sure it wasn’t the first time something like that happened, but their breakup was especially ugly. She ended up losing her job and having to leave the state. It was a message to women working in sports everywhere. The players come first. I vowed then and there to never get mixed up with a player, especially not one from my team. My job, proving I deserved to be there, was too important to me to risk on something like a relationship.”
Lifting myself up onto my elbow, I rest one hand on his chest and stare straight into his eyes.
“I’ve never once been tempted to break that rule for myself. Not until you. Somehow, you convinced me that what we had was worth the risk. Because you made me feel safe and like maybe I could somehow have it all. The player and the job. Turns out, I was right.” I end with a soft smile, hoping he can see the words I’m not quite ready to say, even though my heart knows they’re true.
Ronan lifts his head to kiss me. “I know what a gift that is, you trusting me and letting me in. I don’t take it for granted, Cherry.”
“I know you don’t.” I continue to stroke my hand over his chest. “That’s why we’re here right now. Because I do trust you. You’re worth me letting you in — to my life and my heart.” This time, I lower my head to kiss him. And when his hand comes up to tangle in my hair, holding me in place, I melt into him, into his kiss.
If I could, I’d stay here forever. But I can’t, which is why, after making myself dizzy from his kiss for several minutes, I pull back. “I have to go,” I say with more than a little reluctance as I climb out of bed.
