28. Brett

Brett

Fallon is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, and I bite my lip, trying to figure out what to say to her. She already hung up her call with Chloe, so we're sitting in silence, nothing but the faint glow of the TV screen breaking through the dark.

I've been in the public eye for so long that I forgot it freaks some people out. My father was a big name in Minneapolis, and while it was never to the point that we were being tailed by the paparazzi, we knew someone might always be watching us.

Once I got to college, and took my team to championship after championship, that fame only grew. And now, I'm one of the most recognizable players in the NHL. If not for my talent, then for the fact that I took myself out of my rookie season before it could even start.

"Hey," I say, reaching out to touch her. "I'm sorry, Fallon."

"Oh God, Brett," she groans, picking her head up and wiping a tear from under her eye. "Please, don't apologize. I'm here in your living room, just—you've just given me and June everything for no reason. And I'm taking advantage of you—"

"Whoa," I say, scooting toward her, putting a hand on her arm. "Who said anything about you taking advantage of me?"

"I just—all the money, and we're living in your home—"

"Fallon," I say, working my jaw for a moment before looking up at her. "I was fucking miserable before you and June got here. Every night, I was here on my own, eating leftovers or takeout and falling asleep on the couch. There were a lot of people who wanted to come into my life, and I could never be sure if it was because they liked me , or because they wanted to add a professional hockey player to their list of contacts. So I pushed them away, and I got pretty fucking lonely, here by myself."

Fallon is staring at me, the tip of her nose pink, her mouth slightly parted. I want to lean forward and kiss every freckle on her cheeks, like picking out individual stars in a constellation.

"But with you," I go on, letting out a breath of air and scooting toward her again, her body heat intoxicating, "everything is different. When I met you, you had no idea who I was. You cared about me. You saw me as a person, and not just a hockey player. I get to see what an amazing sister, and friend, you are."

Fallon bites her lip, then clears her throat.

"Things feel complicated," she laughs, finally, after a long moment of silence that stretches between us. I'm just staring at her, unsure what to say, trying not to blurt out anything that might scare her away. "After what happened between us—"

"Look, Fallon," I stop her, taking a deep breath and tipping my head up, staring at the ceiling for a long moment. "I was stupid. In the kitchen. I shouldn't have said it was a mistake"

"No, shit. It's okay, you don't—"

"It wasn't a mistake," I say, resolutely, reaching out and taking her hand. When she doesn't pull away, just looks at me, her lips full and her eyes wide, it spurs me on. "It wasn't a mistake. I was just—I thought you were going to say it was a mistake. But it was the best damn thing that's happened to me since I moved out here. You are, altogether."

She lets out a little noise, and I continue on.

"I'm going to say this, and if it's not what you want, you can tell me, and there's no hard feelings, okay? But I want this with you, Fallon." I gesture around us, to June, to the TV, to everything. "I want to come home from practice and find you here. That's why I set up the meeting with the lawyer. I want to help you get full custody of June. And someday, when you trust me enough, I want to adopt her as my own, too. I can't promise that I'll be home all the time, and I'm pretty busy during the season, but I—I think there's something here. Between us. And I'd like to give it a real shot."

I stop, swallowing, staring down at her hand, which is still in mine.

"Brett?" she says, and when I look up, she's smiling at me, tears in her eyes. I can't stop myself—I lean forward and kiss her, getting her body beneath mine, scooping her up and flattening her out on the couch. Pushing her hair to the side, I get my lips on her neck and breathe her in.

"Is that a yes?" I pull back after a long minute of kissing and touching her, my body molding to her, her soft thighs around me, her shirt riding halfway up her stomach.

"What's the question?" she asks, her hair mussed, her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed.

"Do you want to give this thing a chance?" I let one hand graze lazily over her hip, which seems to be distracting her. "A real chance, outside of the fake, get-the-trust-money stuff?"

"Yes," she breathes.

"And you're not just saying yes because I'm touching you?" I quirk an eyebrow at her.

"No—I mean—" She laughs and sits up a bit so she can pull her shirt off over her head and toss it to the ground. "Yes. I'm saying yes because that's what I wanted this morning, too. Things just got messed up in the middle. I'm glad you clarified—Chloe and Cassidy were saying it was probably just a miscommunication—"

I lean down and kiss her again, loving the way she melts into me, her body arching up into mine. I have my lips on the tops of her breasts when the baby starts to cry, and we realize she's just a few feet away in her crib.

"I'll put her in her room."

"The nursery," I say, backing up from her. "I'm going to make it into a full-fledged nursery."

Together, we get June into her room, change her, and put her to sleep in the big crib. I like the idea of having teddy bears and blankets all around her, but, according to Fallon, it's not a good idea.

Once she's tucked away in her crib, and the baby monitor is hooked up beside her crib, Fallon looks at me like a kid looking at a candy store. I practically chase her down the hallway to my bedroom, and when I catch her, she lets out a yelp, clapping a hand to her mouth and giggling. I hug her from behind, hauling her toward me and kissing her neck, breathing her in, grinding my already-hard cock into her.

We're right in front of the bed, the front of her thighs pressed to it.

I feel her give into me, and into the spark between us, pushing her hips back and gasping when I grab her hip, holding her there. Now that we've come to an agreement, and things are in the open between us, it feels like a waste of time to be doing anything but touching each other.

Frenzied, I tug on the waistband of her pants, letting out a low noise when I have her ass in front of me.

"Shit, hold on," I say, trying to reign myself in.

"Why?" Fallon's frantic, glancing back at me, and the sight of it is almost too erotic.

"I'm trying to—" I shut my eyes as my body sways forward, urging me to touch her. "I'm trying to take my time."

"Don't."

"Fuck, Fal," I say, laughing a bit as I drop my pants. "This is my first time fucking you as your boyfriend. I want it to be good."

She's quiet for a long moment, and I think I might have said something wrong, then she speaks again, quietly.

"Brett," she says, "you are the first man to hit my g-spot, and the first to make me come with his mouth. I think we've earned a quickie."

I groan at the thought of it—me being the first man to taste her when she comes, and it makes me feel possessive and also feral with desire. I slide my cock against her, groaning when I feel that she's slick, practically dripping wet.

Another time, I'm going to spread her out and take my time getting to know every part of her. But right now, it feels like if I don't release this pent-up energy, I'll explode. It seems like Fallon feels the same way, because she's reaching back, trying to get my pants off, too.

When did she get this wet? I imagine her gasping, getting turned on when I first kissed her downstairs. I think about that arousal spiraling out and growing, building as I chased her into the bedroom.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I kick the insides of her heels to widen her legs and sink into her, my fingers spreading out on the small of her back, the ecstasy of her squeezing around me almost making my come right there.

Pumping into her, I watch her arms stretch above her head, her hands fisting in the sheets and blankets, her head turned to the side. She rocks back into me, lifting her hips to find the right angle, and every time she gasps or moans, I chase it, trying to do what's going to make her feel good.

"Come for me," I say, and when she groans, I grin a little, reaching forward and taking her hair in my hand. I give it a gentle tug, and she gasps, lifting her hips into me. "That's a good girl."

This makes her come almost immediately, her walls tightening around me so much it sends me into my orgasm, too, and we're falling apart together, collapsing onto the bed after. I laugh, curling my body around hers and setting my hand on her hip.

"Who knew you were so kinky?" I murmur, laughing when she reaches back and slaps me on the bicep.

"If you tell anyone about that—"

"Yeah right," I murmur, pulling her tight and burying my face in her hair. "I'm keeping you all to myself."