Chapter 28

28

Colver

My hands cradle her perfect, round ass in my hands.

My cock throbs.

Abrielle is breathing heavily onto my right shoulder. Kissing. Biting. Hot groans still escaping her.

I move my hands up to the small of her back, digging, feeling her moving.

Around her body and up to her tits once more.

She's perfect. She's beautiful.

Abrielle moves away from my shoulder, her head falling back. I have her in total submission right now. Yet she's the one on top of me.

My thumbs graze against her knotted nipples.

My hands move around to her back again.

As my mouth takes her entire left breast in, I growl.

I pull away a second later.

Now comes the moment when I have to pick Abrielle up and off my cock.

The worst part of my day… even though I just got suspended from playing hockey. Even though articles and stories and whatever else are being posted all over social media and on the biggest sports sites and shows.

A slight agreement is that the Frost should have traded me last year when there was an opening. Wondering if my trade value is what it used to be. That, sure, even though I'm one of the top players in the league, I'm not truly a star. Or a leader. That I'm a liability to the team and the players and how much more can anyone take…?

I lift Abrielle up and she whimpers once more.

I stand up, holding her.

Her next destination is her last one for the night. My bed.

I walk her across my apartment to my bedroom. To my bed.

There I gently place her down and cover her up.

For me this is as far as things can possibly go in terms of anything that appears kind or romantic .

"Colver," she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"You're going to hate me for this. I'm starving right now."

I grit my teeth.

I'm not your personal chef, kitten.

She just stares at me.

I'm waiting for her to start begging me.

Better yet… use the pregnancy to her advantage.

This sense of protection I feel, is something I've never felt before.

So in a way it's like Abrielle has me by the balls.

Even after draining my balls, huh?

"You're hungry," I say.

"Very."

"And what do you want me-"

"Pizza," she says without skipping a breath.

Pizza. Of course.

She cringes and shrugs her shoulders.

I'm waiting for her to tell me the baby wants pizza. Drive that stake through my heart.

The thing is this…

Yeah, I'm not a fan of someone eating in my bed.

I don't mix food with my bedroom.

I'm also not a fan of taking orders from Abrielle, even if it's for her and the baby or for the pregnancy.

And, okay, fine, we just had amazing sex. I'm hungry too.

The thing that has me rattled… pissed off…

I was looking forward to getting into my bed with Abrielle and holding her until she fell asleep…

Suspension sucks.

The big guys at the top are not only pissed at me but they're scared.

Maybe of me. Or maybe of what could have happened.

Having one of their top players getting arrested for fighting in a game… that's bad press. Big time bad press.

Of course, the social media cycle has to take its toll now on the situation.

Which is why I'm suspended and not allowed near anything to do with the team or the league. Banished until the smoke clears.

It's the afternoon on another day that feels mostly wasted.

Abrielle is at her gallery, getting things in order.

I'm standing near a window in my apartment, looking out over the city.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm thinking about what comes next.

I don't mean hockey either.

Can I do something with this apartment to get ready for a baby?

If I had to… sure .

There wouldn't be a nursery though.

It was just… boring.

It's also on my mind what Abrielle and I are going to do when the baby arrives.

Two separates places? Live together? Get a place together?

You want to talk about making my heart race?

I've never lived with someone since I lived in that damn mansion with my father.

Well, that's not exactly true.

I did have a roommate in college for about a month.

I chased him out of the dorm though.

He couldn't handle my ways of life. Up all night. Partying. College girls and all the fun noises they make when you touch them the right way.

Living alone is my peace.

A call from my agent Arty ends all those thoughts.

"You must be going crazy right now," Arty says to start the conversation.

"Called me to say that?" I ask.

"No. Called to offer you something."

"Offer? What kind of offer? They want me to retire or something?"

Arty laughs. "Not quite that bad. Although the topic has come up. You need to get in front of a camera and apologize."

"What?"

"Colver, come on. Just do your thing. I'm not talking some thirty minute special or anything. You could just record a video even. Of yourself. Just say something along the lines of ‘Hey, I took things too far. I'm a passionate hockey player. Emotions got the best of me during a tense game and I should have respected the unwritten rules of hockey fighting…' or something along those lines."

"Fuck off, Arty," I say.

"It'll do well for everyone involved," he says. "It'll ease tensions, Colver. It'll break things up. Could make all of our lives easier."

My jaw tightens.

Let me read you what's happening here. Between the lines, so to say.

Someone big called Arty. Ownership? League executives? Commissioner himself? Someone big called Arty and wants an apology from me. They want the footage of it to show that I'm wrong, their process is right… blah. It's all pandering bullshit. Corporate political bullshit.

And if I do what Arty wants then I'll be able to play sooner.

Or I'll be able to attend practices and go near the team and facilities.

They don't mind the fighting and the image of me being mean and violent… except that I took it too far.

Which I admit - I did.

"Colver," Arty says.

"I didn't hang up. Yet."

"Listen, I'm not one to do this bow down shit myself. You know that about me. But I want you to play hockey. You just hanging around with nothing to do is not good for anyone."

"I have someone to take care of."

"Right. You're suddenly a committed man?"

"Arty, fuck you again," I say. "And next time I see you I'm going to rearrange your jaw for that comment."

"I was out of line there, Colver," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to say-"

"I'm not apologizing to anyone and especially during some fucking interview that's going to be used to get views and clicks."

That's when I hang up on Arty.

I'm not going to be put in a fucking corner and be told what to do.

I feel like the walls of my apartment are inching closer to me.

That's my cue to get out of here.

Funny enough, I really don't have anywhere to go. Anything hockey related is off limits. This suspension is a very strict and serious one. I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to talk to the guys on the team. ( I'm sure that's an exaggeration but still… I'm in hot water at the moment .)

There's no way I'm going to pace around the apartment all day with my thoughts running wild.

That's when it hits me…

There is one place I can go.

I open the door to the soon-to-be art gallery and for a split second I can't find Abrielle. Not that I expect her to be standing there, smiling, waiting for me… lifting her shirt and bra up, showing me her perfect, handful-sized tits that taste so sweet…

When I see Abrielle up on a fucking ladder, reaching above her head, inching up on her toes, I'm ready to scream.

In fact, I do scream.

I scream her name without thinking.

"Abrielle! What the fuck are you doing?"

My booming voice and presence surprise the hell out of her.

She gasps, jumps, starts to turn, and drops whatever is in her hand.

I don't even care. I don't pay attention.

Yeah, something glass related hits the floor and breaks.

Big fucking deal.

I don't want my Abrielle to fall and get hurt. And what if she falls at a bad angle and hits her stomach and then something…

I start to run as she flails her arms, desperate for balance.

It looks like some long, drawn out sketch in a play or TV show.

Her feet shuffle and bounce but there's nothing for her to grab onto.

"Colver!" Abrielle screams as her balance gives out for good.

I feel like I'm a comic book superhero with the way I'm running. Like it's life or death - but it is for me in some way. I've never felt a sense of panic as I do watching Abrielle fall off that ladder.

My arms reach out.

Abrielle's back and the backs of her legs hit my arms and I pull her toward me. I absorb all the energy from her falling.

I lose my balance for a second and quickly bend my right knee, letting it crash down to the floor. Anything to keep Abrielle from falling.

"Oh, crap," Abrielle says, looking right at me.

My teeth grit. Hard.

I stand back up, holding Abrielle in my arms. Holding my unborn baby in my arms too.

It's a powerful feeling, that's for sure.

Abrielle's chin starts to quiver. She realizes she messed up. She realizes that if she fell that…

"You scared the hell out of me, Colver," she whispers.

I lift her a little more and kiss her.

That's what I need right now. A kiss from Abrielle.

Her lips are soft and sweet.

The kiss ends as abruptly as it started.

"What the fuck were you just thinking, kitten?" I growl. "You're pregnant. You're on a ladder like that? Alone? Reaching like that? You falling and getting hurt…? What if you fell the wrong way and something else happened?"

Abrielle swallows hard and her eyes well with tears.

"Oh, fuck. Abrielle. Listen, I'm having a really messed up day right now and I don't need you to be-"

"You care about me and the baby," she whispers. She smiles, blinking away tears. "You care about us, Colver. You're mean. You're a total asshole. But you care about us."

My jaw tightens.

What is this? Huh?

I care about them…?

"Of course I fucking care about you," I say. "And the baby. You're both mine. And you, kitten, I've cared for from the second I laid eyes on you."

Now I'm just saying things that I'm not sure I should be saying.

I kiss Abrielle again.

This time harder.

Then mid-kiss, I feel myself wanting to talk again.

What the fuck is wrong with me right now?

"What the hell were you trying to hang up?" I ask, my lips still touching hers.

"Lighting," Abrielle whispers. "I have these cool bulbs… well, you made me drop and break one…"

"You're never getting on a ladder again."

"Is that an order?" Abrielle teases.

"Yes, kitten," I say. "That's a fucking order."