18. Paddle Time

EIGHTEEN

PADDLE TIME

BAILEY

A s far as hangovers go, waking with this one is like the Mount Everest of pain. If this ache would go away, I promise to stop drinking forever. Except for an occasional treat with my Bailey’s coffee. I shift in my bed. At least I think it’s my bed, and try to recall what happened last night, but things are fuzzy.

I open only one eye, the other staying closed, dry like it’s glued there. In the morning light streaming in through my sheer curtains, I make out the image of Kris asleep in my reading chair next to me. He must have dragged it there, staying by my side all night. Wouldn’t that be just like him?

As quietly as I can, I shift out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom. I peek in the mirror at the horror staring back at me.

I almost scream. I can’t let him see me like this, but then why should I care if he does? He saw the worst of me last night. I brush my hair and my teeth anyway, then make my way back to bed.

With a yawn, he awakens and checks to see if I’m awake. “How do you feel?”

“Let me guess. You stayed the night out of concern I’d throw up again. What is it with you and saving the day all the time?”

“Hell yes, I wanted to make sure you didn’t get sick as you slept. Then I must have dozed off myself.”

“Please keep your voice down. My head hurts. I don’t hangover well.”

“Thanks for the warning. And I’m whispering. Mind if I scrounge around in your kitchen for something to help with the hangover?”

I wave him away and turn onto my stomach, willing myself to sleep again, drifting off and trying to forget last night. It’s all a blur, anyway. At least everything is after I caught Peter and Maggie in the bathroom, and that I wish I could forget.

Doesn’t seem long before Kris returns, making a dent in my mattress from the weight of him sitting beside me. He rubs my back and whispers my name to wake me up again. “Bailey, sweet girl, I have water and a pill for you to take. Can you sit up?”

“No.” I pull the covers up and over my back. He stops caressing me, vacating his warmth from me.

“Don’t stop.” I croak out a whine, pulling the covers back down. I hear the chuckle in his exhale as the warmth of his hand returns, stroking my bare back. “Why am I naked?”

“Well, that’s probably more to do with our taco run on the way home, because you were hungry and demanded to eat, which you did in my car in the garage below, of course. Thankfully, you waited to puke that all until we got here. It was all over your jeans and the jersey before I could get you into bed. So I changed you. Once I tucked you in under the covers, I cleaned up, washed your clothes, and hung them to dry. But I’m afraid the taco sauce stains wouldn’t come out of the jersey. No matter. I can get you a dozen of those.”

“I like wearing your jersey. God, I’m a mess. I’m too tired to get out of bed, and I’m never drinking again.”

His palms soothes my back, more. “Your skin is so soft. Give me the link to whatever lotion you use and I’ll leave a five star review for it. Seriously, I could lie in bed here all day and lick and caress every inch of you if you let me.”

My head may pound, my confidence a little shaky, but I’m purring with desire, proof of it pooling in panties. I long for him, and can’t say no.

“Yes. Do that. All of it,” I whisper, my eyes still closed. “If you could climb on top of me and satisfy me without looking at me or smelling me, I’d be ever so grateful.”

To my surprise, he does. I shiver as he shifts the covers out of the way, replacing them with his body. He hovers over mine, warming me from his heat, while he leans on his elbows at my ears. He moves my hair out of the way, and his lips are right there, trailing gentle kisses across my shoulder.

I moan his name and arch my back a little, pushing my ass against the hardness of him growing there, clarifying that I want him. Right now. I crave him this very moment.

Considering it payback for how he took care of me last night, I fully let him grind his cock as much as he can between the crack of my backside, his pants the only barrier. I know what he’s packing there and I have to have it again. “Take me, Kris. I need you so bad.”

“Yeah? Do you like this?” He grinds more, lifting, shifting his weight to his hands. His groans paired with dry humping me are sexy as hell.

“Do it. I can simply lay here, spread my legs and let you put in the effort.”

He barks a growly laugh. “Suits me fine. You just lay here like a good girl and take my cock.”

A thrill trills down my spine, but my body turns instantly cold without him on top. The sound of the condom package ripping and a zipper unzipping and his pants being pulled down all happen so fast. How very talented he is. Then again, he’s probably had more sexual partners than I can count. I don’t know. I really haven’t followed him after L.A. But I could do the research and find out easily enough.

Nope. I won’t go there, because I’d hate seeing him with other women. I can take his cock like a good girl and come and have a great time this morning, though.

That I can do. Hell yes. I can.

“Lift a little,” he encourages, using his hands to guide my hips upward. “Perfect. You’ve got a cute ass, you know that?”

“It’s plump.”

“I like round and plump.” He leans down and kisses it. “A nice handful to grab or a perfect cushion to take a spank or three with a paddle. Do you recall what you owe me?” His voice drops low and rough on those last few words, and my body hums. He gives a cheek a squeeze with one hand while he guides his cock through my seam with the other, wetting the tip through my folds. When he hits my sensitive nub, I whimper.

I’ve never had a dirty talking man, much less one who will spank me during sex. The idea of that or anything new with Kris excites me. My vanilla sex days may be numbered.

All thoughts stop when he pushes into my opening, filling me inch by inch, until he’s seated all the way and pauses. I release a sigh, and his hands land on my waist, caressing up my back and then around to my front. His palms drag across my peaked nipples, and his hard rod stretches me.

My greedy, wet center takes it all, sucks him in to fill me up so good. It’s a fullness that reaches deep, capturing my heart and soul. What is this I’m feeling with him? I’m falling, that’s the answer. I never expected to feel this with him so soon. It scares me.

His lips plant reassuring kisses on my shoulder, then along the ridge of skin and muscle leading to my exposed neck.

He doesn’t move, but I need him to move. I want penetration. All I desire is to feel alive again under him.

“Oh, Kris. Fuck me good,” I beg, bucking up into him.

“Don’t move. You’ve got me so wired and excited, I’m trying to calm down and take my time. One wrong shift by you and I’m like a hair trigger, ready to blow.”

Not getting what I want, to be a brat, I clench my pussy around him. He groans.

“Stop. I mean it, Bailey, unless you want the fastest quickie in history this morning, when I’d rather take my time with you.”

I clench him again, and he pulls out of me so fast. Next thing I know, he grabs the paddle.

“I’m ready to collect my reward for three goals last night. Are you ready to pay? If not, say the word and I’ll stop,” he reassures.

I don’t utter a peep and brace my hands against the headboard.

The first paddle smacks me, and it stings. He follows with his palm smoothing over the area where it hit.

“That’s one, good girl,” he whispers in my ear, sucking in my earlobe. “Can I continue? Do you like this?”

“Yes.” I do, and brace for the next.

It next arrives a little rougher. His palm caresses where it aches the most. Moans of pleasure rumble in my chest.

He hovers over me, whispering into my ear again. “Taking this like my very good girl, Bailey.”

“I enjoy exploring new things with you.”

“Me too. Ready for round three?”

“Harder,” I rasp out. And I get rewarded, this one stinging and surprising. Tears tumble from my eyes. The ache is so real, like I’m waking up from a long sleep, forced to feel things again. The entire experience new and raw and beautifully painful. I could come at any moment.

He turns me onto my back and shifts his weight, his cock engaging me again, slipping even deeper inside of me. “Did you feel every spank?”

“Yes. I liked it.”

“I’m the only one who can satisfy you, Bailey. The only one. Tell me you’re mine. I don’t want to fuck anyone else. Only you. So tell me you belong to me.” He spears me with long, thick strokes at first, over and over, until his stamina returns.

“I’m yours, yes. Yours.” Tears fall freely, my heart bursts open, able to love again. Somehow Kris has stitched it back together, made it new and ready for love to fill it. He’s my heart fixer upper, my heart taker, my love.

When he picks up speed, he covers my body, breathing erratically into my ear with each pump of his hips. His fists tangle in my hair, twisting my head so our lips meet in a passionate dance. I fit so well underneath of him, enveloped by him, I never want to leave his warmth.

“Tell me you like my cock.” He seeks praise amid this, while I’m spinning off into oblivion thanks to everything the hockey heartbreaker is doing to me.

“It’s a ten. Best ever,” the words tumble out in one long moan as my fists ball the sheets up above my head.

“So are you. Together, we’re so hot, Bailey.” I can hear the smile in his voice. His words stun me. I’m a ten? I’ve never considered myself anything but a six. Maybe a seven on a good day. I’m average; and this god of hockey wants me?

The way he’s fucking me so hard he could break me, though. The slapping of our skin, our moans, all like a song, create a beautiful rhythm of our own. My entire body flares like one big nerve ending, overly sensitive to Kris’ every touch and ministrations. Yet I need more. I reach between us and strum my clit, my legs shaking, until I’m screaming because it’s all too intense with him.

“That’s it, baby. We’re coming together. Squeeze me dry.” His grunt of hot breath feathers along my cheek as he goes still on top of me, and I melt under him. I become one with him, no telling where I end and where he starts.

The minutes tick by as we lay there and come down from our high. I’m breathlessly tucked under him. “Thanks for doing all the work,” I whisper, his weight crushing me, but I refuse to move, enjoying being wrapped in his cocoon of protective heat.

“Not a problem at all. Happy to.” He suckles my earlobe, teasing it with his tongue. If I had more energy to give, I’d want another round. But I don’t think I’ll do a thing the rest of the day. “Of course, next time, you get to do all the work on me.”

“Deal. I promise.” I shift so he can rest beside me and cuddle the morning away. We drift in and out of sleep, until we’re starving.

He rises before I do, and soon I hear him messing around in my kitchen. I take the solitude to think back over what happened last night with Peter and Maggie. My insides are a jumbled mess over how I reacted. They didn’t deserve the way I treated them.

I get up and put on Kris’ shirt from last night, then I fold my legs under me onto my chair and bring my phone and blanket with me. I know I can’t let this worry fester inside of me all day.

I dial Maggie’s number, feeling like a complete shit for my behavior. She answers right away, and I don’t give her a second to speak.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I was awful to you last night. Can you forgive me? I really am happy for you two. ”

“You were the worst. But so were we, not telling you. Of course, honey, all forgiven.” She yawns into the phone.

“Can Peter forgive?”

“Hang on. He’s right here. Babe, can you forgive Bailey for her response to our news last night?”

“I don’t know. It was pretty harsh. Over the top, even for her. But fine, I suppose if she can forgive us for not telling her straight away,” he says, like he’s next to her in bed.

“Oh God. You two are still in bed, aren’t you?” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Yes, we?—”

“Too soon! I don’t want to know. Sorry.” I apologize again. “This will take some getting used to, but I’ll get there.”

Maggie’s laugh sings through the phone. “I was only going to tell you I’m a little tired in my first trimester. So Peter let me sleep in while he cooked breakfast and brought it to me in bed.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet. Okay, he earns major brownie points for that. Of course, a rich man would have had food delivered to your door and not had to get out of bed.”

“Bailey…”

“I’m joking. Laugh a little. Admit it was funny.”

“Whatever you say,” she chuckles.

“So I’ll be an auntie in what—September?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re going to be a mom, and the best, I know it.” I hear whispers between them and my forehead creases. “More secrets? What’s going on over there?”

“Maybe this will make up for things. You’re the first person we’re telling this news to. We’ve decided to get married at the Justice of the Peace soon. And we’d love nothing more than for you to stand up with us as our witness,” she says.

Tears threaten to burst over the rim of my lower lash line. “So you said yes despite the way he proposed? If he wants to try again, I could give him some pointers on how to create a very romantic proposal for you.”

“I heard that,” Peter shouts.

“I loved the spontaneous nature of the proposal inside the bar last night, babe.” Kissing noises come through the phone and I sing la la la to drown them out. She chuckles, coming back on the line. “We talked about things and we want to be a family.”

“Can I wear whatever I want or are you making me do the hideous bridesmaids gown thing?”

“Come as you are, Bailey. We love you just the way you are.”

We talk and cry and laugh a few minutes more, then we hang up. A surge of good feelings spikes through me as I rise and open my curtains the entire way. I take in the sunny day and things are right again in the world, or getting there.

I find Kris in the kitchen barefooted in nothing but his jeans. The muscles in his back flex while he works. I have to touch him, to be near his warmth again. In three strides, I go to him and hug him from behind, my cheek against his flesh.

“I called Maggie and sorted everything out,” I tell him.

“Good. Still friends? Feel better?”

“Yes. I apologized, and we’ll be fine. I’m sorry to you, too. Thank you for taking care of me.” I kiss his back and move away, but he sets the spatula down and lifts me onto the countertop.

“We have to set some ground rules. Ready?” His stern voice catches me off guard. He waits to talk until he turns off the heat under the pan. “Number one, no getting drunk in public unless I’m there to take care of you.”

“There have been two times I’ve been drunk in the past five years, and you’ve been there for both.”

“Okay then. Two. Your body is smoking hot, Bailey, and we look incredible together. I need you to believe we do. Here, have a look, see what I see.” He hands me a small silver frame, and inside is the photo of us kissing at the ice rink.

“Kris, what did you do?”

“I had the ladies at the team office make two copies of the photo that appeared of us online. Then I bought these frames to put them in so we could each have one.”

“It’s so different in a pretty frame as opposed to a post on social media. This takes my breath away.” I finger the image of him, so handsome.

“Look at our eyes, the way we stare at each other. Whoever took this captured the perfect moment. I didn’t want our first public photo out there to be tainted by all those nasty people with rude comments. Now, in this frame, it’s all about us. Only us. Other people don’t matter. To me, this moment on the ice represents the start of us . So every single time you have doubts about whether I’m too pretty for you, which I’m not, you look at this photo and believe that I’m right where I belong. Next to you.”

My heart leaps out of my chest and my hand goes up to catch it. “That’s so romantic. I can’t believe you did this for me. I love you.” My arms wrap around him, and I never want to let him go. Then I freeze there, realizing what I said. “Oh, God. Too soon to say that, isn’t it? I mean it’s been what a week? Who does that? Falling for someone in a week isn’t real.”

His laughter hits my ears and a trail of kisses across my jaw gets left behind by his lips. “Time doesn’t matter, Irish. I fell for you the first time I saw you at the bachelor auction. The second time when you ate dessert on my lap. The third time when we ice skated. Then the fourth time was the first time I made you come with my tongue. I hope we’ll have countless days with many more times to fall for you allover again and again. I love you, too, Bailey.”