Chapter 19

Nineteen

Rowan

"Harder," Leigh says, her fingers tightening in my hair. "Right there. Don't stop."

She's mad if she thinks I'd stop. She's lying on her back, her legs straight up on my chest and shoulders while I'm bent over her. I can't get deep enough.

"You're fucking soaked," I say, drilling into her.

I watch the pink flush creep over her body, her nipples erect and begging for my mouth. She's always beautiful, but when I have her right before she comes, a crawling sensation races up my spine, igniting a feeling of dread that I have to commit her to memory because there might not be a next time. She could end this any time she wants.

I'm gone for her. My need still hasn't waned, only grown, in more ways than one. I want to know more about her, but she keeps herself so closed off.

"There. Shit. I'm going…Ro…wan." My name slips from her lips, and her pussy clenches around my dick.

This must be what heaven is like.

She reaches back, grabbing the pillow under her, her hands clenching the edges. I watch her muscles tense from the sheer pleasure of her orgasm.

"Jesus, you're gorgeous," I say, hammering into her double time to reach the point she's at because I want my lips on her.

I want to kiss her, let her know this effect she has over me.

"Your dick…" she whimpers, and her eyes close, her head lolling back.

"Your pussy," I say back, my climax rising to a level I can no longer push away.

I come on a curse, filling up the condom. I wish I could be bare inside her, although I've never done that with anyone. But Leigh seems to be breaking all my rules.

I fall on her, my hand cradling her cheek, my lips crushing hers. She opens, and our tongues glide along one another's, inducing another round of arousal that should've been doused a long time ago.

I grow soft inside her, but I don't want to move.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders, her short nails running up and down my shoulder blades. We take our time, not rushing to clean up like all the other times. We both seem content to lie here and bask in the glow of what we just did.

I need to squash this need. I need to figure out how to become unattached to her, but every time I tell myself she's just a woman I'm screwing, I wince because it doesn't feel that way. I want more from her.

Even now, I'm supposed to go meet up with Conor for a beer, but I don't want to leave her.

I slow our kiss and move my lips to her jaw. "Want to come get a drink with me?"

She freezes under me, and I guess that answers where she wants this thing between us to go. Absolutely nowhere.

I kiss just under her ear and slide out of her, going to the bathroom to dispose of my condom and feeling like an idiot for mentioning it. When I come out, she hurries by me to use the bathroom.

"Other people will be there." I try to smooth the waters by making it seem like the invite wasn't a big deal. "Not sure if you follow hockey. I mean, I know you knew who I was," I say through the door. "But Conor Nilsen just got traded to the Falcons. We went to college together. He's here looking for a place, and I said I'd meet him at Ruby's for a beer."

Did I really have to give her all that information? I could've said I'm meeting a teammate and left it at that.

The bathroom door opens, and she hurries past me to pick up her shirt off the floor. She tosses the shirt over her head with something that feels kind of like panic. Seeing her dressed only makes me want to unwrap her again.

She sits on the end of the bed to put on her sandals.

"Do you?" I ask.

"Sorry?" She looks up at me while she's bent over tending to her shoe. If I didn't just watch her come, I would've thought she's uncomfortable being around me.

"Follow hockey? Is that how you knew me?"

She squirms, her eyes flitting around for a beat. "A little…" She finds her purse on the floor and stands to grab it. "Actually…"

She positions her purse crosswise over her body, and the way the strap slides between her tits makes my dick twitch. One thing I've yet to do is titty-fuck her. I should probably get to that before she breaks this off.

"Yeah, I do follow hockey. I actually read a lot of the blogs." She puts up her hand. "Not because I'm some puck bunny or anything. I mean…I like hockey players, but I didn't…what I said the other night."

The way she's stumbling over her words causes me to chuckle. She sighs and stares at the floor.

"Hey." I break the distance between us and place my hands in hers at her side. "I'm not judging you."

"Yeah, but hockey blogs sound bad. But I'm not?—"

I press my lips to hers to get her to stop talking. "Okay, so what are they saying about me? That I'm a waste of talent?"

She laughs and shoves me in the chest. "Honestly, I haven't been reading them since we got together. I've been…" She lets whatever she was going to say go, and I want to pry, but I have to get going. From what I've witnessed, she's going through something but hasn't shared anything with me, and I've forced myself not to ask. "Everyone in Chicago can't wait to see you play again this season." She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses me back. "Including me."

"Good. If you ever want seats…" Shit, there I go again. Another covert way of asking her to move this arrangement into something more. Or at least gives the impression that I want something more.

"I'll let you know."

I nod. We still have preseason training to get through. Why am I pushing the limits?

"Have fun with your friend," she says, wrapping her arms around my waist, tightening her hold on me.

I rest my chin on her head and hold her. We've never really hugged before, and I don't love the way this feels. It feels like a goodbye. She pulls back and stares at me. There's something in her eyes. They're void of her usual free-spirited demeanor.

"What's going on?" I frown.

A soft smile creases her lips. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Okay…"

"I'm not—" My phone rings from where it's charging in the kitchen.

I ignore it and continue to hold Leigh close. "Go ahead."

My phone stops and rings again right away. What the hell?

"They can wait. What is it?" I don't take my eyes off her.

Then the buzzer rings by the door. Conor must be here already.

She looks at the door to the bedroom. "Conor Nilsen?"

I chuckle. "You don't have to refer to us all by our first and last names."

She laughs, but it's strained and anxious. "You go ahead. Do you mind if I shower quickly? I just remembered that I'm going to meet Alara, so I should probably get the sex smell off me."

I try to find something in her body language to give me any clue as to what's going on with her. "Of course. The door will lock automatically behind you. Are you sure you're okay?"

She nods and rises up the balls of her feet, pressing her mouth to mine again. I run my hand around her head to keep her lips on mine and slide my tongue through her parted lips.

I pour every emotion I can into the kiss with the hopes she knows she can trust me and say whatever's on her mind. I know we've only been with one another a short time, but I feel closer to her than to most people in Chicago.

She closes the kiss when the buzzer goes off again. "Go," she says, pushing me in the chest.

"How long will you be out with Alara?" I ask, wanting her to come back over tonight.

"I don't know. Probably well past your time with your friend."

Point made. She's not interested in getting to know my friends or doing anything outside of what we do here. I hate the feeling of disappointment that fills my chest.

"Okay, text me the next time you get horny." My joke falls flat.

I kiss her forehead and walk toward the door, pressing the button and telling Conor I'll be right down. I don't look at her when I head back into my bedroom.

"Why do I feel like you're upset?" she asks.

"I'm not." I pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from my dresser.

"You don't seem fine." She leans her shoulder on the doorframe of my bedroom.

"Go shower so you're not late to meet Alara." I hurry up and get dressed.

She watches me until I give her one more kiss on the cheek and walk out the door. Once I'm finally away from her, I let go of the breath I was holding, wondering if she was right the first night I met her—maybe she will be the one to break my heart.