27. Lucia

Lucia felt the man’s hands on her waist, disappearing after only a second or two. She whirled around to yell at him, but Colton was already gripping him by his collar, whispering something in his ear that had the guy paling. Lucia’s heartbeat ratcheted at the sight, reminded once again of what she was about to give up.

Colton dropped him as he spoke, quiet but dangerous. “Go. Away.” He took a step closer to Lucia, his voice falling to a whisper for only her ears. “You okay?”

Her whole body erupted with warmth at the sound of his deep voice, strained as if he were trying to hold himself back from something. She took a step toward him, placing a hand on his cheek.

“I’m okay.”

She’d had plenty to drink, and she knew it was making her do things she shouldn’t, but if this was the last night she had with him, she wanted it all. She’d made her peace with their time coming to an end—or at least she was trying to—but why shouldn’t she let herself enjoy the night they had left?

What she wanted was his hands on her, his lips on her, his everything on her. She felt hot, hot, hot and she wanted him. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist, swaying with the music until he loosened up and watched her, seemingly entranced. She turned around in his arms, allowing her hips and ass to rub up against him in a way that brought her body to life. Luckily, Jenna and Leigh didn’t seem to mind.

Lucia had been to plenty of New Year’s Eve parties when she’d been with Max, but she’d always been the stuffy analyst at those parties. She’d stood beside Max in her work-appropriate dress and chatted quietly with some of the team wives. The only time she’d really been able to let loose was when she and Isa had gone out, away from Max.

Being there in Charleston with Colton and the Sabers, she basked in the fact that there were no expectations, no arbitrary rules she had to follow. She could dance and laugh and yell and drink and smile as much as she wanted, and she loved every second of it.

The volume of the music lowered as they moved closer to midnight, and her heartbeat started to slow while she and Colton chatted with their friends about the season and the new year, his hands placed somewhere on her at all times. It made her wonder if maybe he was struggling with this as much as she was. Did he feel that twist in his stomach the way that she did? Did he feel the sandpaper in his mouth and throat like she did? Based on his reaction at her house, she thought it was possible.

Two minutes before midnight, when the countdown on Devin’s TV began, she turned, placing her hands around Colton’s neck and playing with the hair at its nape. Their eyes met, tinged with a sadness that only they understood, but the moment that grin found his face, the whole world disappeared. She could almost imagine they were really together and in love. There was only Colton. Bright, beautiful, goofy-only-for-her Colton. She grinned right back, wanting him to smile at her like that forever, despite knowing she shouldn’t and that he wouldn’t.

“What’re your resolutions for the new year, Moretti?”

She hadn’t had time to think about her resolutions much, though honestly, when had she ever?

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He squeezed her waist tightly, chiding her, but the feeling of his hands tight around her only served to fuel the desire that’d been simmering below the surface. His eyes dropped to her lips like he knew exactly where her mind was.

“I suppose my top resolution will be to help the Sabers get another Super Bowl win.” She didn’t voice the first one that came to her: finding a hobby that made her as giddy as being in his arms. She was too scared to tell anyone, knowing the chances of her finding anything remotely close were unlikely.

Something like sadness flickered in his eyes for a second before everyone in Devin’s house began shouting down from ten. She closed her eyes as they reached one, pulling him close to her and kissing him deeply, turning into putty as one of his hands slid up to cup her face. He pulled away much too quickly, and she pouted, opening her eyes as everyone around them cheered.

“Happy New Year, Moretti,” he whispered, pained.

He didn’t pull away entirely, and her eyes searched his face before she asked, “What about your resolutions?”

“I suspect those will be broken soon enough. Probably better if I don’t tell you.”

“Colton.”

“Lucia.”

She huffed. “That’s not fair. I told you mine.” Even if she’d bent the truth a little.

She was startled when he bent closer to her, his hand still cupping her chin, his lips against the shell of her ear in a way that made her shiver.

“Fine. I told myself that I’d fight every single urge I have around you until, inevitably, you’re no longer mine. I promised myself that I’d keep my hands off the curve of this waist that I love so much. That I’d stop thinking about tasting you every time you glare at me. That I’d stop thinking about the way you moan when I’m fucking you. I promised myself that I’d find something else to occupy myself with, ideally football, because the fantasies I keep having about you can’t be healthy. But above all, I promised myself that I’d find the strength to walk away from you after the Tampa Bay game, because if not, I’ll never be able to get you out of my head. And I’m starting to think that one’s been broken long before now.”

Her breath had caught at his first words, and she’d held it until he finished, heat pooling between her thighs. She didn’t know when her eyes had closed, but she was acutely aware of her other senses, the feeling of his breath on her ear, the sounds of Devin’s music getting louder now that the new year had begun, the smell of sweat and beer and longing. The taste of him, minty, with a hint of beer, still sat on her tongue.

She was confused. So fucking confused. His words were a confession that neither of them seemed prepared for, especially not now. Not after what she’d said at her house. Why hadn’t he said something like this when they’d been talking then? She knew she had moved away from him, trying to find the courage to tell him that they needed to stop, but she also knew that if he would have pulled her into his arms again, she might’ve given up on all of it. Why hadn’t he tried to comfort her with these words if he felt the same way?

Because he was good. So good, and so sweet. The sweetest man she’d ever met. He cared about her feelings and respected her boundaries, always making sure he wasn’t overstepping. And now he was telling her that he wasn’t going to be able to get her out of his head, and she didn’t know what to make of it, even as she felt her heart splinter.

Tears pricked her eyes, but all she could say was, “Colt…”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke. “Please don’t cry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She hiccuped as she tried pushing back the tears. “No, no. I’m okay. I just…I didn’t realize you felt that way about me.”

“Does it change anything?” he asked hopefully.

Lucia imagined for a minute what a life with Colton could have looked like. More sessions in her office. More movie nights in his hotel rooms, cuddled up against him. More waving like a buffoon from the analyst box when he turned to look at her after a spectacular play. More Thanksgivings where she felt free and happy. A lifetime of texts that made her smile.

And then she remembered the little girl who’d waited at the bus stop all alone because her father hadn’t been able to get out of bed. The little girl who’d fallen off a stool and cracked a tooth while trying to cook herself dinner because she’d been tired of eating frozen macaroni and cheese. The woman who’d taken a chance on a man who’d only pretended he wanted a wife who loved football, when in reality, all he’d wanted was a trophy wife who kept quiet. The woman who’d continued to give someone the chance to prove her wrong, while persistently being proven right.

She cursed the universe for making the mistake of giving her Max when she’d needed Colton. But it was too late for her.

She shook her head. “It can’t. It can’t change anything”

Colton moved away from her, eyes closing as he let out a breath. He nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s do our last night right. Let’s go home.”

Home. She liked the sound of that too much. To cover up that fact, she whispered, “Only if you promise not to be nice.”

Surprise registered on his face only briefly before they said goodbye to their friends and left the party. The silence between them in the car was tense, full of anticipation. At her request, they went to her house, and he helped her out of the car, taking her keys from her and unlocking her door.

And then he was closing it and pressing her against it, his kiss sweet and delicious, a hand on her waist and the other pushing against the door right beside her head. She bit his lower lip, sucking on it gently before letting it go, and then he groaned, and the kiss became something else entirely.

He picked her up and walked her to her kitchen, all the while keeping his lips on hers. When he set her down and backed away from her, she frowned.

“What happened?”

“Luc, how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Barely anything.” A lie, but despite the two or three drinks, she felt surprisingly sober.

“Liar.”

She crossed her arms, hoping it pushed her tits up, the silver sparkles of her dress sending light all around them. She grinned when his eyes fell to them.

“Colton”—she drew out the last letter—“I know you wanna fuck me.”

He swallowed, his eyes flicking back up to her eyes. “I want to do unfathomable things to you, Moretti. But I won’t unless I know you’re sober enough to remember tomorrow how hard I make you come tonight.”

She could feel herself getting wet at the thought of what he might do to her. “What do you want me to do? You want me to walk a straight line while tapping my nose with each pointer finger at intervals? Want me to breathe into a breathalyzer? How can I prove to you that I’m sober enough for you to ruin me tonight, officer?” In a way she wasn’t certain made her seem less drunk, she continued, “Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T—”

“Luc,” he groaned. His hand ran over the bulge in his pants, and Lucia wanted that honor.

“Come ruin me, Superstar,” she purred. Her confidence astounded even her, but Colton did something to her that no other man had been able to.

He must’ve decided that she was sober enough, because he was on her in an instant, a strong hand cupping her face and a finger dropping down, down, down until her legs were widening and a whimper left her mouth.

“I want you to wear this dress while you come all over my cock.” He buried a hand in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His breath swirled against the column of her throat before he pressed kisses to it.

Lucia slid a hand down his toned chest and stomach before she landed on that bulge. She fumbled with his belt, frustrated. When she finally got him free of his pants, he hissed at her touch. She smiled innocently at him, batting her eyelashes as she pulled him to rest at her entrance.

His body stilled. “You’re not wearing anything underneath this dress?” The noise he made was primal. He kissed her hard, rubbing himself against her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned, needing him inside of her.

She heard the sound of foil ripping, and her eyebrows came together, even as she continued enjoying the feel of him pressed against her. “You had a condom in your pocket? You knew this was gonna happen?”

“Car. Grabbed it before we came in.” He grunted the words out as he pumped the condom over his erection and placed it back at her entrance. His hand palmed her body until it reached her ass, and he picked her up easily.

He slipped into her, his hands on her hips, holding her up. For a second, she marveled at the strength it must’ve taken to hold her up with just his arms, and then she was digging her nails into well-muscled shoulders and moaning.

“Yes, Colton, please.”

“Please what, Moretti? What do you want?”

“God—” She choked as he slammed in and out of her. She couldn’t believe she’d been wet enough that he’d slipped right in without any resistance. She loved the feeling of him moving inside of her, loved how deep he hit her, but she knew she needed more. “I want you to lean me over this—fuck.”

She swallowed as he kept pumping in and out of her.

“What was that?” he asked her smugly, a smirk on his beautiful face.

“Lean—lean me over this counter and rail me, please.”

He cursed, setting her back down on the counter for half a second before turning her around. Her body pressed into the cool marble of her kitchen countertop, feeling the chill spread through the fabric of her dress.

Colton’s hands drifted underneath her dress and up until they gripped her hips tightly. She grabbed onto the bar top in front of her, and this time when he slid into her, she cried out. He was deeper than anybody had ever been, and she finally knew what it meant to be completely full.

“Oh my god, Colt, yes.”

“You like that?” Yes. She loved it. She never wanted it to stop. “So fucking good, Moretti. You feel so fucking good.”

The sounds of him slapping against her were pushing her toward her climax, and she felt her ass bouncing at every thrust.

Colton slid an arm up out of her dress and placed it lightly against her throat, pulling her against him as he continued thrusting. “Hold onto me, Luc.” She pulled her hand from the counter and placed it around the back of his neck. The hand on her hip gripped her tighter before sliding down to her clit and rubbing her in circles. Over and over, he filled her from behind, his lips pressed to her ear, whispering all kinds of dirty things.

“Oh my—fuck, Colton. I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Come all over my cock, pretty girl.” His tempo inside of her and against her core picked up until she was screaming his name. The earth fractured, and she felt herself tightening around him, her body nearly giving out from the pleasure.

The hand that had been playing with her clit flattened against her stomach, anchoring her to him. His other remained around her throat, and she loved the feel of his large hand there. He’d learned from their first time how she liked it. She leaned further into him, her hand fisting into his hair the way it had on the plane.

“Such a good girl. I love when you listen to me.” She tugged at his hair a little, just to spite him, and a garbled cry left his mouth. He used the hand that was around her throat to push her face to the side and kiss her mouth. He thrust into her twice more, the arm around her stomach tightening as he came hard, moaning deeply into her mouth.

She enjoyed the feeling of his body shaking with his orgasm. And though she knew it was stupid, she pulled herself from him, turned around, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply. If it was going to be her last time feeling this way, she needed it all.

Which is why she took his hand and led him into her bedroom, her silent question already answered as he walked behind her. After helping her take off her makeup and change, he slipped into her bed and held her close, his warmth enveloping her like a shield from the reality she’d be faced with the next morning.