Chapter 15

Ivan

There wasnothing better than watching a beautiful woman come multiple times.

Chey's orgasms rolled over each other until she was breathless and spent, collapsing against my chest. I slowly eased my finger out of her and wrapped my arms around her.

"God, Ivan, that was incredible." She had the side of her face resting on my chest.

"For me, too."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say and we lay there in the darkness, nestled in each other's arms.

She was beautiful, sweet, and incredibly passionate. She'd genuinely enjoyed going down on me and had been honest about what it took to get her off. Ass play was one of my favorite things, so this made us exceptionally compatible in bed, and I was already looking forward to doing it again. She seemed to be drifting off, though, and I pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

"Let's clean up a little, okay? Then we can sleep."

"Mmkay." She slowly rolled to the side, as if her body was weightless, and I picked her up, carrying her to the bathroom.

"Shower?" I asked. "Or are you too tired?"

"I'm exhausted," she admitted. "I'm going to pee, brush my teeth, and crash."

"Okay. I showered after the game, so I'm clean. Ish."

We exchanged smiles in the mirror as we went about our business.

She wasn't shy, not giving a thought to peeing in front of me or grabbing the toothpaste from my open toiletry bag, though she used her own toothbrush. Hell, I wouldn't have cared if she'd used my toothbrush, my deodorant, or anything else I had. I liked her and had no interest in playing games or trying to act as though I didn't want to see more of her.

It might not be easy with our schedules, but I would do my best if that was what she wanted.

She'd already crawled under the covers by the time I was done cleaning up and I took a moment to drink in the sight of her. In my bed. Waiting for me.

Fuck, it was beautiful.

I got in next to her and she immediately turned, curling against my chest.

"You're warm," she said in a sleepy voice.

"Are you cold?

"Not anymore."

I wrapped my arms around her, hoping she was warm enough. It was October, so it wasn't overly cold in New York yet, but the nights were chilly. I pulled the blankets up over us and realized I was exhausted too. Her breathing had already evened out, telling me she was asleep. As much as I wanted to watch her sleep, drink in her beauty and everything about her, my body had taken a beating on the ice.

The next thing I knew light was streaming through the windows and someone was knocking on the door.

Chey shifted, nestling under the covers. "Tell them to go away."

"I will." I got up, grabbed my boxers, and peered out the peephole.

Gabe.

Geez.

"Hey." I opened the door a crack. "What's up?"

"You wanna go to breakfast? You weren't answering your texts."

"Because I was sleeping," I said. "And no. I'm gonna hang here." I gave him a look.

He opened his mouth but then snapped it shut. "Got it. See you later." He grinned and walked off toward the elevator.

I made my way back to bed, and Chey moved against me.

"Cold again?" I asked.

"No, I'm warm under here. I just like being close to you."

"Me too." I kissed the top of her head. "Sleep okay?"

"Like the dead. You know what time it is?"

I lifted my arm to look at my watch. "Just after ten."

"Did your stomach just rumble?"

I chuckled. "Yeah. I eat a lot."

"Can we order room service?"

"Sure." I shifted, reaching for the menu next to the bed. "What would you like?"

"Do they have espresso? I need something strong."

"I think so…" I scanned the menu. "Yes."

"And eggs. Just something simple."

I picked up the phone and ordered half the menu. I needed to eat, and not anything simple. I worked hard and my body needed fuel. Lots of protein, lots of water, and plenty of sleep. That's how I was able to perform at the level I played at for eight or nine months of the year. Besides, I wanted her to have plenty of options in case she wanted to share.

"I'm going to get in the shower," she said after I ordered.

"Would you like company?"

She smiled. "Is that even a question?"

I padded into the bathroom after her, wishing we were back in L.A. at my condo, where the shower was the size of the entire bathroom here. Where I'd have room to bend her over and fuck her the way I wanted to. Or sit her on the built-in bench so I could go down on her.

She grabbed a few things out of her bag and then stepped into the shower, letting the warm water sluice over her.

In the bright light, her body was still beautiful.

Small but perky breasts I already knew were sensitive, with pale pink nipples. She was completely free of body hair, her skin smooth and blemish free. Her waist was small, hips rounded, and her legs long and toned.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked, peering at me through the water dripping over her face.

"Trying to decide if I have time to go down on you before breakfast arrives."

"If you do it right, I can be quick."

I sat on the edge of the tub and crooked a finger at her. "Come here and let's find out."

She stood in front of me as I nuzzled her crotch, pressing light kisses on her mound, her hips, the insides of her thighs. Everything about her was pretty, delicate, almost too perfect to be real, yet she was real. And here with me.

I lifted one of her legs, placing her foot on the edge of the tub next to me, and then stroked the petals of her sex with my fingers. She was wet, quivering against me, and I lowered my head to get my first taste.

She was all tangy woman and delicious arousal, and I slid my tongue deeper between her folds. With my hands on her ass, I brought her forward and buried my face where I wanted it, devouring her like a man starved. Her arousal practically poured into my mouth, and she dug her fingers into my shoulders for balance.

I already knew her well enough to understand she wasn't the kind of woman who wanted to be manhandled, preferring finesse to grit, and I was fine with that. I concentrated on circling her clit, making sure to keep my touch light even as I taunted her.

"Ivan…Ivan!" She shrieked my name as she came, catching me by surprise.

I hadn't anticipated her getting off so quickly, but I liked seeing it.

"Yum." I grinned up at her. "I guess I did it right."

"You did." She slowly lowered her leg. "I'd reciprocate but then we'd miss breakfast. And I'm hungry."

"Plenty of time for all that after breakfast."

She smiled, stepping under the spray to wet her hair. She'd brought what seemed like two hundred little bottles into the shower with her and I watched as she washed and conditioned her hair, put some sort of mask on her face, scrubbed her body with something that smelled good but seemed rough on her skin, and poured some kind of oil all over her.

"Wow," I said. "That's a lot of stuff. No wonder your skin is so soft."

She glanced up, frowning slightly. "Soft, clear skin and healthy hair is part of how I make a living. I take good care of myself."

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.

"Well, you won't hear me complaining."

"I'm glad. I'll be out in two minutes."

"No rush." I brushed my teeth and hair, pulled on sweatpants, socks, and a Henley, and had just put on my running shoes when room service arrived with breakfast. I let them set it up on the small table by the window and then called to Cheyenne.

"Are you ready to eat? Food is here."

"Coming!" She came out of the bathroom in the same jeans and top she'd worn last night, her hair wrapped in a towel. Her face was devoid of makeup and her feet were bare, but she was as striking as always.

"By the way… good morning." I bent to kiss her, and she tilted her face to mine.

"Good morning."

We settled down to eat, and though she mostly sipped her coffee and nibbled, I inhaled almost everything in front of me.

"I don't cook," she said, watching me eat. "Figured I should warn you."

"Not at all?" I asked.

"I mean, yeah, I can boil pasta or follow the instructions for a pan of brownies, but I don't cook in general. I eat out most of the time, and not a lot of food, as you've probably noticed. So, there's no point in spending time in the kitchen when all I'm going to eat is a salad or some oatmeal. I plan to learn someday, but probably not until I retire from modeling."

"I love to cook," I told her. "In fact, I'm a bit of an amateur chef. I don't have a lot of time for it, but I cook quite a bit in the off-season."

"Nice. I look forward to trying something you make me."

"Maybe instead of going out next Saturday, we can stay in and I'll cook?" I asked.

"That sounds wonderful," she said. "I get so tired of being out all the time. That's one of the reasons I'm looking forward to Australia… I'll just hang out at my grandmother's house and not do much of anything."

"You leave a week from tomorrow, right?"

She nodded. "It's a long flight for only six days, but I didn't want to miss Gran's birthday. My parents and brother are going too."

"Did I know you have a brother?"

She shrugged. "I don't talk about him much. We're not close."

"How come?"

"He's jealous." She said it simply, without any emotion, as if it were a fact.

"Of what? Your success?"

"We left Australia when I was thirteen and he was fifteen. He was pissed he had to leave his school, his rugby team, his friends… and start over in L.A. He tried his hand at acting and modeling, but it never went anywhere, so now he does a lot of nothing, living with my parents and letting us all support him. Which pisses me off. Not for any other reason than he doesn't even try. I mean, he's twenty-six. He should have a job, a career, something. Instead, he just sits home and complains all the time about how I ruined his life."

"That sounds frustrating."

"I told my parents I'm not supporting him anymore. He lives with them, and they have money, so I can't stop them from doing it, but other than holidays and such, I don't give him money anymore."

"Good for you. It's not fair he expects you to take care of him."

"My parents have a little guilt, you know, because they did everything to give me a chance to succeed as a model, and in a way, they didn't put the same effort into his future. Beyond the basics."

"He should've gone to college, found out who he is and what he wants from life. Especially since I'm going to assume you would have paid for it."

"Of course." She picked up what was left of a biscuit I hadn't finished. "Can I have this?"

"Sure."

I watched her pop it in her mouth and close her eyes, as if savoring it. She chewed for much longer than I probably would have, a faint smile on her lips.

"Do you know how rarely I eat carbs?" she asked with a sigh.

"That sounds terrible," I said.

"I'm used to it, but sometimes I get a craving."

"I'm sure I can think of ways to work off those extra calories."

Her eyes twinkled. "I might have to eat a little extra just for that."