32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Willow

I'm sitting in a booth next to Tripp and across from some of his teammates. Everyone has been welcoming. It feels like I'm Willow, a semi-normal human, meeting her boyfriend's friends.

We keep finding ways to touch. Leaning into one another. Knees touching under the table. Holding hands. An arm wrapped around shoulders.

While I try not to be that disgustingly smitten woman who keeps stealing looks of Tripp when she thinks no one is looking, I can't really help it.

The best part? I don't think Tripp is much different. There's been quite a few times when I find he's already looking at me. I love the feel of his soft, gray eyes on me.

Someone slides into the booth, and they have this look. Their eyes are wide, posture is too straight, and I haven't seen them blink or breathe. I know this look.

"Hi! I'm Willow," I say, extra cheer in my voice, and reach out to shake this man's hand.

The way he slowly lifts his hand to mine makes me want to laugh. Not at him. It's surreal to think I elicit these kinds of reactions from people. Some days my brain can't make sense of it.

"I'm FJ. That's what people call me. My name," he sucks in a breath, "isn't two letters. I have a name— "

"Are you kidding me right now? We practiced this…" Zack says while bumping his shoulder into FJ's. Tripp puts his head in his hands, I think he's also trying not to laugh.

"Fritz. My name is Fritz," he says, and Zack gives him a high-five. It's adorable.

"Great to meet you. What position do you play?"

He responds with a laugh. A belly laugh. Zack whips his head to him, with a massive grin on his face.

"I love when that happens," he says through his laugh. "I'm an equipment manager, not a player. But did y'all see that? She thought I was on the team ," he says playfully and it makes me like him. Immediately.

"We're never going to hear the end of this. You know that right?" Tripp softly says in my ear, his lips kissing my temple, like he's done it a million times before. The act of affection, in front of his guys, melts me.

"FJ or Fritz, it's great to meet you."

"This is probably annoying, but my wife will never forgive me. I have a four-year-old daughter, Ruby, who is obsessed with you. Like, I'm convinced your music is the only reason she started talking. She did it so she could sing along. Is there any way we could take a picture or something?" He holds onto his phone like it's gold.

"Ruby?! I love that name! And you're not annoying. If you want, we could do a quick FaceTime this week? I'm pretty open and would love to chat with her."

As I'm saying this, FJ's jaw is about to hit the table. His chin is almost touching his chest and his eyelashes are almost touching his forehead. His teammates laugh at his reaction, but you can tell it's all in good fun.

"Yes. 100% yes to that. I should mention my wife is also obsessed, but I thought the daughter would be a good lead in. "

The guys laugh even harder. My cheeks are starting to warm but it's only because this is wholesome. I give him my phone so he can put his number in. I promise to text him to find a time that works this week. He fidgets and kicks his feet under the table, saying how he wants it to be a surprise.

The night is dying down, and I'm ready to get out of here. Most of the guys have left. Besides Zack.

"You know that you're about to make FJ the coolest dad and husband of the year, right?" he says, leaning his forearms on the table. "That was pretty cool. Gotta say. How'd you end up with this knuckle ball?" He laughs and points to Tripp.

"That's our cue," Tripp smiles, putting an end to the evening. We stand and Zack does the same.

"It was great to meet you, Willow. Thanks for hanging out and for giving this guy something to do other than football."

I'm a twelve-year-old boy, because I'm trying not to giggle over "something to do".

Zack leans in to hug me and I let him. He has dirty blonde hair, eyes that are like the blue of a sunny sky. He's taller than Tripp. He's like a golden retriever. You see him for just a second and you just want to wrap him up. Also, you know he'll be getting into trouble ten minutes later.

I jot down a few thank you notes, smiling as I put my ‘W' stickers to seal the envelopes, to hand to our server and bartender on the way out. I can feel Tripp looking at me.

"You ready?" Tripp asks, like he read my mind.

"Absolutely." He helps me put my jacket on and then reaches for my hand.

We say quick goodbyes to everyone still there on the way out and I make a promise to be at the next home game. A promise I fully intend to keep .

Tripp opens the door, and the flashes and screams are aggressive. While the inside has been a safe space for the team and significant others, all bets are off about twenty feet from the door.

"Holy shit," Tripp says, trying to keep a smile on his face, knowing that every moment is being recorded. Cataloged. Kept.

It's a barrage of questions and screaming. Are you dating? How long has this been going on? Is that an engagement ring? Over here! Look! Comment?!

I suck in a deep breath, trying not to let my facial expression give them a single ounce of rattling me. I've got this because Tripp's got me.

"It's okay. Don't let go though," I say, looking down at the hand he's holding. He winks at me and then reaches in for a chaste kiss, in front of everyone, like we've done it a thousand times. I swear I can hear the clicks of the cameras speed up.

I know my security team is nearby and I'm not necessarily nervous but it's a jarring shift from the cozy restaurant to this. Tripp squeezes my hand and leads the way.

Once we're in the car, buckled in, and pulling away from the paparazzi, I let out a sigh.

"Well, there's no going back now," Tripp jokes with one hand on the steering wheel and uses the other to squeeze my leg. His hand on my midthigh has me wanting him to speed all the way home.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I say.

The private elevator doors close, and Tripp is in front of me, hands in my hair, pulling me to him. His kisses are feverish, quick, like he's trying to grab hold of as much of me as possible. I drop my overnight bag and use my arms to put my hands at the nape of his neck. I moan against his lips, the burn in my low belly growing.

He picks me up, my back against the elevator wall. Tripp's mouth finds the spot on my neck that makes me forget my own name.

And, too fast, the doors open.

Tripp gives me a final kiss before grabbing my bag, my hand, and leading me to his place.

This apartment is stunning. We're one step in and lights turn on. The ceilings are tall, and the windows are massive. It feels open and exactly what you'd expect for a penthouse in the city.

"Let's do a quick tour," he says emphasizing quick . "This is the kitchen. There are always snacks and food in my fridge. Help yourself to whatever you'd like." We walk into the living room, and it screams cozy even though it's in such a modern space. Plush furniture, the kind you can sink into, all in dark tones, create a welcoming vibe. There are ottomans and tons of blankets. Different textures, colors, all pulling the darkness of the room together.

It's the windows that cause me to stop.

"This is not your view," I say, getting as close as what's acceptable to the windows.

"This is my view." He crosses his arms and takes it in with me.

It's a sparkling New York City skyline. Feels like his apartment is wrapped in miles of it.

"This is beautiful."

"I know something more beautiful." He reaches for me, pulling me in for a kiss. "Thank you for coming to the game." He wraps me in a hug.

"Stop it," I blush at the cheesiness of the line. "Thanks for the invite. Also, you're stuck with me for next week's home game at least," I joke .

"Happily stuck. Hopefully for much longer than that." He laughs. It's a tiny comment but it sticks in my brain. The part where it's like I can't think about this right now and I need to file it away for later.

"You were amazing today. I mean, you look fast on TV, but in person, it's different."

I swear his cheeks blush.

"Thank you. Today was good. Sometimes, it's like that."

Tripp leads me down a hallway, his hand on my lower back, showing me the guest bedroom and bathroom before we're in the master suite.

"This is my room."

I walk in and sit on the edge of his bed. I lean back a little, putting the weight in my arms behind me, before lying all the way back. I let my arms touch the softness of his duvet.

It's only a second and Tripp is leaning over me. He straddles me and holds himself up on his forearms. His hair dips into his eyes. Instinctually, I brush it away. I already want to bring my hips to meet him.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky like the end of a breath.

"Don't make me beg," I say.

In a swift second, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one arm.

"Now I'm going to." His mouth is on mine, urgent and hungry. I pick my head up as fast as I can, pushing the kiss further, exploring his tongue with mine. I reach as far as he'll let me, and he pulls away each time I reach this imaginary line.

Painfully slow, he puts his mouth to my jaw, and then he's biting my ear lobe. When he takes his tongue and draws it down my neck, I can't help but let out a whimper. My hips are dying to move but Tripp holds me in place, his strength on the best kind of display .

His free hand lightly touches the top of my breasts. My nipples tingle and harden in anticipation of his hands. His mouth. His bite. I want all of it.

"Tripp," I gasp and put my head to the side.

"Tell me what you want," he says, moving his hips just enough for me to feel his dick through his pants. "If you're good, I'll let you have it." When his lips pull into a sly smirk, I can't help but respond with a sigh.

"Less clothes."

"Promise to be good?" He grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it up away from my skin.

"I promise." Before the word is out of my mouth, he's got both hands on the side of my stomach, raking up my skin, while pushing my shirt over my breasts.

My hands reach for his shirt, and he's back to pinning my arms above my head. He buries his head in between my breasts before using his free hand and putting a nipple in between his fingers. He rolls and squeezes, my hips follow.

"My god, Tripp." The need for him intensifies with each held back touch. I throw my head side to side.

"Not yet, baby. Does this have any sort of sentimental value?" He touches the black lacy bra.

"No." It comes out more like a breath than a response.

"Good." With a brisk movement he goes from pinning my hands to grabbing for my bra and ripping it down the middle.

I let out a moan because I could explode. My back arches off the bed, my tits exposed.

"Ask nicely and I'll consider it." Tripp's voice melts but in a way that I know he's still in control. I love it.

"Your mouth on me." My voice sounds like it doesn't belong to me, raspy and needy .

"Where?" Tripp's response is slow—deliberate.

"Anywhere."

"Only if you put your hands behind your back." I can't follow his instructions fast enough. When he takes the other nipple in his mouth, I so badly want to reach my arms out and touch him. Touch myself. Pull him closer. Now, I know why he was specific about the hand placement.

"Don't even think about using your hands." He's firm and goes back to biting my nipple, just hard enough.

I shiver as he plants a delicate line of kisses down my body, starting at my sternum. I'm so thankful I didn't put tights on today. I bite my lip and smile at the thought. My body shudders in response, a delicious torture.

"What's that for?" he prods.

"Just thinking about how I'm glad I left the tights at home."

"Why is that?" he asks while pulling his hand painfully slow down the front of my leather skirt. My heart races and I shiver in anticipation. He takes his hand from my knee to the inside of my thigh, drawing lazy circles.

"Fuck, that's so hot. You looking at me over my leather skirt. Your face, right, there." Words are hard. I can't remember a time I was ever this turned on during foreplay.

"How is this?" When he takes a finger and slides it under my panties, so close to my center, I gasp. I know I'm dripping at this point.

"Even. Hotter."

"Is all this for me? You're so wet, Lo." Two fingers enter me, and I pick my shoulders off the bed, while keeping my arms behind my back.

"Yes. All for you."

"What should we do about this?" He is slowly killing me. He knows it, too.

"Use your mouth." I'm pleading at this point .

"How should I use my mouth?" he counters with a devilish tone.

He's going to make me say it. Say exactly what I want.

"I want you to put your mouth on my pussy. My clit." The words jammed together coming out too fast.

Tripp bites his lip before using his fingers to pull my soaked panties to the side. He moves his mouth closer but stops right before making contact. Tripp lightly blows, and I let out a whine.

When he uses his tongue, licking me agonizingly slow, I pick my head up and see his head hidden under my skirt. My skin feels like it could catch fire.

"Tripp!" I call out, digging my own arms which are still behind my back. I'm following the rules like a good girl.

He bites my inner thigh and then blows on my clit again, inching me closer and closer. My nerves are shot, and I feel like I could come at any second.

"I know you're close," he says. "You're so wet. You're not coming until I say."

Before I can respond, he fills me with his fingers and flicks me with his tongue.

"Do you remember what I told you?" He pulls away before using his tongue where his fingers were. "I told you I wasn't that nice." And he licks so close to where I need it, where I crave him. He's teasing me and it's fucking delicious.

Then he's back on his knees, but reaching for his shirt, taking it off. Muscles ripple but he's calm and collected. Meanwhile, my chest heaves with heavy breaths.

"Can I touch?" I ask because I know he wants me to. He nods yes and my hands fly from behind my back and hit his chest. I scratch my nails down his front. When I reach the top of his pants, he stops my hands and lightly pushes me back on the bed .

His head is back under my skirt.

"Do you want to come, Lo?" he asks me like it's a common talking point.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" he says, the air hitting my clit. His mouth is so close. My climax is within reach.

"Yes, please," I practically yell.

And then he kisses my bundle of nerves the way I need. He fills me up with his fingers and pinches the inside of my thigh. It's the perfect balance of bliss and welcomed stings of pain.

He pulls back, giving me long strokes up and down my lips, joining his fingers before coming back to my center. When he moans, it's over. The vibration from his mouth has me at the peak. Waves of bliss and need wash over me. I contract around Tripp's fingers.

"Right! There!" I scream in his bedroom. He moans as I come on his fingers. His face.

Before I'm fully out of it, he's unbuckling his pants. I'm panting on his bed.

"Do you want me to use a condom? I was tested at the beginning of the season," he asks, taking his pants off.

"No, I have an IUD. I got tested… before our first date." I can't help but overshare.

His grin is devilish as he shakes his head. He's kissing me in a way that makes me feel like I'm exactly what he needs. Like if he doesn't have me, every last piece, he'll drown.

The only break he takes from my mouth is to pull my skirt and panties off. I sit up and reach for his dick. Just getting a touch in before he is towering over me.

He slides his dick inside me. I'm still ridiculously sensitive .

"Fuck, you feel so good," he says, his mouth close to my ear. "This pussy is all mine."

Tripp catches my lips with his, and I groan into him. His pace is slow, deliberate. He uses his arms to hold himself up. They dig into the mattress.

"Tell me you're all mine." His voice low and demanding.

"I'm all yours, Tripp." I say, as he thrusts all the way in.

When he slowly pulls out of me, it's brutal. He keeps the tip of his cock inside before pressing in. He does this three or four times before I wrap my arms around his neck and pull my hips to speed up the pace.

"Someone is eager," he says with pleasant restraint.

I respond with a bite to his lower lip, harder than I originally planned, which he matches by covering my body with his. The weight of him on me inching me that much closer. I moan into the crook of his neck, pull my fingers down his back. I might be leaving a mark, but I don't care.

My hands pull at the nape of his neck before they're tangled in his hair. I pull. Hard. Tripp immediately slams into me, giving me exactly what I want.

I can't catch my breath. His breath mingles with mine, with each thrust—filling me.

I lift my hips, just enough, and I'm close.

"Fuck, Lo." He speeds up, taking advantage of the new angle. I use an arm to lift him up and somehow, it's even better.

My skin is ice and fire, all at once. He can't be touching me enough—it's impossible to be close enough. I've never wanted more of him. He looks at me, his steely eyes like storm clouds.

I stretch around him. He kisses my neck before biting my shoulder. And that's all it takes. I grind against him a final time before I throb around his dick—then he's coming with me .

He groans, low and slow. My eyes roll back. Each toe curls. He keeps thrusting as he rides out his own wave. Tripp lies on top of me, solid weight pressing me into the mattress. I feel his breathing, heavy and quick, against my chest. It's the most wonderful feeling. Like being someone's matching puzzle piece. We fit.

It's like Tripp knows what I need before I do. He presses the sweetest kiss on my mouth. His tongue lightly touching mine. He falls to the side of me.

He uses his hand to delicately move a rogue strand of hair, getting it off my face. When he tucks it behind my ear, and locks his eyes on mine, I know this is something. Really something.

My heart squeezes. I swallow the lump of emotion. This is new territory for me.

And there's nothing I want more than to explore it.