Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Blake

I 'm not stalking her. That would be creepy.

And I'm not fucking creepy.

I’m just sitting here in my truck, parked outside her apartment, watching the glow of her window like a complete goddamn lunatic.

I drag a hand through my hair, exhaling hard enough to fog up the windshield.

I should go home. I should be in bed, getting my body ready for game day tomorrow. I should be focused on the playbook, my line shifts, and not the fact that Sophia Hart is currently on the other side of that window, probably cursing my name from the way I acted earlier today.

Instead, I’m still sitting here. Still thinking about her. Still replaying the way she hit the ice, falling flat on her ass right in front of the guys.

Shit.

I really am an asshole.

She's been telling me that all along, but as usual, I didn't listen.

I let go of her . I let her fall, and when she scrambled up, brushing ice off her ass and throwing absolute fucking fire in my direction, I… I laughed.

Like a dick.

In my defense, it wasn’t on purpose. It just happened . A reflex. A knee-jerk reaction to seeing her all flustered, pink, and pissed off.

I mean, that's what we do, isn't it?

We fight. We argue. We bicker.

Jeez. It's starting to sound like we're a damn married couple.

Regardless of all that, here I am. About to do something I’ve never done before.

I roll my shoulders back, jaw tight, my pulse an uneven mess of frustration and… fuck, I don’t even know.

Apologizing isn’t my thing.

Not because I think I’m always right - I don’t. But I don’t fuck up like this. Not anymore, anyway. I did my share when I was a kid, roaming the streets when I should have been at home cooking dinner for mom.

These days, I don’t usually care enough to need to make things right.

But Sophia?

Urgh . For some goddamn reason, the thought of her still being mad at me has my stomach in a fucking knot.

I scrub a hand down my face, scratching into my skin a little so I feel something other than dread.

Just knock, Maddox. Get it over with.

Before I can think better of it, I push out of my Rover, the ball-shrinking wind slapping against my skin as a gust blows across me. My boots crunch over the icy pavement, each step carrying me closer to whatever fresh hell I’m about to walk into.

I hesitate for half a second at her door, exhaling through my nose.

Squeezing my eyes, I knock. Hard.

A pause.

Then, muffled footsteps.

The door swings open.

And fuck me.

She’s standing there in nothing but a robe.

I forget how to breathe.

Because she’s standing there, blinking up at me, wrapped in nothing but a plush white robe, her damp blonde hair twisted up in some kind of messy bun, moisture still clinging to her skin like she's freshly out of the shower.

And holy hell, she’s gorgeous.

I go to open my mouth to speak, but the sheer sight of her is practically choking me.

The robe is knotted tight around her waist, but it’s short . Just enough to reveal the smooth, bare length of her thighs, toned and fucking irresistible , with a single droplet of water trailing down the inside of one.

My cock twitches against my zipper.

Her cheeks are pink, her skin dewy, lips soft and parted like she’s seconds away from telling me off like she always does. She smells like vanilla and something sweet, something citrusy and fresh, like she’s been soaking in some expensive body oil, making her skin gleam.

I want to drag my tongue across it.

Then she opens her mouth…

And ruins the moment.

"What the hell do you want?"

I drag a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply, already regretting every decision that led me here. “Yeah. Believe me, I don’t want to be here either.”

Her eyes narrow. Suspicious. Like she’s trying to figure out what I really want.

I shift my weight, hands shoved in my pockets. “I-uh… I came to apologize.”

Sophia tilts her head slowly, like she’s just witnessed a freaking miracle .

“I’m sorry, what?”

I grit my teeth, my entire body rejecting this on a cellular level. “I shouldn’t have let you go like that.”

Then, a look of way too much fucking satisfaction spreads across her face.

Sophia doesn’t just smirk. She preens. Like I’ve just delivered her favorite brand of chocolate-dipped, salted caramel smugness on a silver platter.

Her eyes glitter with victory as she leans against the doorframe, arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them higher beneath her robe. Temptation wrapped in attitude.

"Say it again."

My jaw tightens. "What?"

She tilts her head, deliberate as hell. "Apologize. Properly."

I exhale, my hands flexing in my pockets. "Sophia-"

She hums. " Hmm. Thought so. "

She reaches for the door like she’s about to shut it in my face.

Fuck that.

"Fine," I growl, stepping forward, stopping the door with my palm. My body cages hers in, heat pressing between us. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t move back.

"I’m sorry, alright?" My voice is low again. "I was a dick. You should’ve never hit the ice like that. And yeah - maybe I shouldn’t have laughed."

Her lips twitch, and I can see her dragging this out just to watch me suffer. Sadist.

"Go on," she teases.

I clench my jaw so hard it might snap. "And…" I swallow hard, forcing the words out. "I’ll never let you fall again."

“Oh my God.” She exhales a soft laugh, crossing her arms. Big mistake. The movement pulls the robe tighter around her, cinching at her waist, teasing just a hint more of that smooth, bare thigh.

Jesus fucking Christ.

My gaze flickers down before I can stop it.

“I can't believe it…” She draws out the words like she’s savoring them. “You actually apologized.”

My eye twitches.

“Don’t make a thing out of it.”

She leans against the doorframe, arms still folded, but that robe - it slips just slightly off one shoulder, revealing more golden, freshly-warmed skin.

“Oh no, I think it’s already a thing.”

I scowl and try to ignore how soft her skin looks, how fucking good she smells. “You done?”

“Not even close.”

I rake a hand down my face. “Sophia. Please.”

She bites her lip, and my jaw fucking locks .

That mouth.

That fucking mouth.

The way her teeth press into her bottom lip… slow, teasing, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

It's the kind of mouth made for filth. Made for me.

And I’m barely holding on.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She blinks innocently. “I just never thought I’d see the day. Big, brooding Blake Maddox, standing at my door, actually admitting he was wrong .”

“Careful, sweetheart,” I mutter, voice low. “Push me too far and I will take it back.”

Her grin is pure evil. “Oh, I dare you.”

And fuck, fuck… if that doesn’t make something snap inside me.

My hands twitch at my sides, my restraint hanging by a thread.

Because I want to take it back. I want to turn around, storm the hell out of here, put some goddamn distance between us before I do something I can’t take back.

But then she shifts one final time, and the robe parts that last inch.

My cock fucking aches .

I take a slow step forward, closing the space between us in an instant, close enough to see the way her pulse kicks up at the base of her throat, to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

"Are you gonna invite me in, or do you plan to make me grovel out here in the cold all night?"

Sophia hums, tapping a finger against her bottom lip, like she’s thinking about it.

And that?

That's it.

Before I can stop myself, I take a step forward, crossing the threshold into her apartment. The scent of her shampoo, the lingering wetness of her shower, the warmth of her fills my lungs.

My body presses into the doorframe, arms braced above her head, boxing her in. Her breath hitches, pupils blowing wide, but she doesn’t move back.

She’s waiting for the next move.

And I’m fucking done waiting.

"Tell me to stop," I command, voice rough, barely controlled.

Sophia’s lashes flutter, her pupils blown wide. "What if I don’t?"

A growl rumbles in my chest as I grab the knot of her robe and tug it loose. She falls inside the door and kicks the door closed behind me.

My hands are on her hips before I can stop myself, gripping soft curves, dragging her forward into the room behind her. She gasps, one palm flattening against my chest, but she doesn’t push me away.

Instead, her fingers curl slightly, her breath catching as I tug her even closer.

“You think this is funny?” My voice is rough, my control slipping. “Me coming here like an idiot, groveling to you?”

She swallows hard, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. “Maybe a little.”

I cup her jaw and kiss her . It's hard, desperate, nothing soft or sweet about it.

Her lips part, and my tongue sweeps against hers. It's ridiculous. Deep and filthy as my free hand slides inside the open robe, my itching palm finding smooth, hot skin.

I groan against her mouth.

"Fucking hell, you're soft."

Her fingers tighten in my hoodie, gripping, pulling, like she needs me closer. Her robe slips further down, exposing a bare shoulder, more of her delicious looking thigh and the edge of black lace panties that hug her curvy hips.

I break away just long enough to drag my mouth down her throat, nipping and tasting her every inch. She tilts her head back with a breathless whimper, her body finally melting against mine.

“You’ve been driving me crazy." My lips trail lower, hands gripping her hips like I can’t stand the thought of letting her go. “Ever since you kissed me at that damn festival.”

She shudders as I bite down on her neck. “I—”

I slide my hand between her thighs, finding heat . Lace. Wet lace.

My entire body locks up.

Sophia gasps, clutching my shoulders, her nails biting through my hoodie. Fuck . My cock throbs so hard I swear I’m going to snap.

“You’re soaked for me,” I growl against her throat, pressing my palm against her panties, feeling the slick heat of her arousal. “You want this, huh? You want me, sweetheart?”

She whimpers, hips twitching against my palm. “Yes.”

I grin, dark and dangerous. "You should never have let me in."

Leaving the gasp untouched on her lips, I fall to my knees and dive beneath the part in the middle of the robe.

I press a kiss just above her navel, feeling the way her abs clench under my mouth, the way her thighs tremble as I spread them wider. My fingers find the edges of her panties, threatening to tug them away, giving me exactly what I want.

"Blake," she gasps, her breath uneven, her hands gripping my shoulders like she doesn’t know whether to pull me closer or push me away.

But she doesn’t push me away.

She never fucking will.

Because she wants this as badly as I do.

And I’m about to prove it.

I push Sophia back against the couch, and she’s sprawled beneath me, her robe long gone. That alone makes my cock throb painfully, but right now? My focus is somewhere else entirely.

Her thighs.

Her fucking thighs.

I settle between them, broad hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the soft heat of her skin, the way she trembles under my touch. Her legs part just enough to give me a glimpse of heaven - so slick, soft.

Except for one annoying little problem.

A tiny scrap of lace still stands between me and what I want.

I drag my thumb along the outside of her darkened black panties, teasing the seam, watching the way her body shudders at the first subtle stroke over her clit. My fingers flex on her thighs. My mouth waters.

"Sophia . You’re so wet for me."

Her breath catches, her fingers tightening around the cushion beneath her.

I hook my fingers into the delicate lace at her hips, slowly… so fucking slowly dragging them down her legs.

She gasps, hips lifting instinctively, letting me strip her bare right before my greedy eyes.

I grin right at her, tucking the ruined lace panties right in my pocket. "You're never getting these back, by the way."

She glares right at me, breathless. "You're hoarding underwear now?"

"Sweetheart, I collect trophies for a living."

She opens her mouth to respond, but I press an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, and whatever comment she was about to make? Gone.

"Blake—"

"Shhh." I grip her thighs, kissing her as I press them wider. "I just need to—"

Fuck, I can’t even finish the sentence. Because now that she’s fully exposed, now I can see what she's been hiding from me behind those snarky comments and witty comebacks, my brain completely malfunctions.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She’s glistening, slick folds spread open for me, a delicate flush of pink, her clit already swollen, waiting for my mouth.

Her thighs tremble under my grip, her slick heat shining in the dim light. She’s so fucking perfect I feel like I’ve just uncovered some long-lost treasure.

I slide my palms up her inner thighs, spreading her wider, just so I can look.

"Swear to God, sweetheart," I breathe, leaning closer to the scent of her soaked pussy. "You're going to ruin me."

Her breath hitches, her nails reaching for me, clawing at my arms. "Blake, please-"

And that one little please, breathy and oh-so fucking desperate… like my very own precious little good girl has finally been awakened?

That's all it takes.

I fucking dive in.

My tongue makes contact with her clit and instantly she gasps, gripping me tight. I drag my tongue slow and deep through her folds, savoring my first taste like I might never get this moment again.

I groan against her, the silky heat of her slick pussy coating my mouth.

"Fuck," I growl, voice vibrating against her perfect little clit. "You taste like honey."

Her fingers tangle in my hair, nails scraping my scalp as I devour her like a man who's been fucking starving.

I lick her, sucking and worshipping every damn inch, circling her tight hole, flicking it just right until her thighs tremble against the sofa beneath me. I tease my way lower, holding her still, keeping her thighs open for me, letting her take my tongue deep inside her pussy.

"Oh my God," she whimpers, her hands gripping my hair like she'll die if I stop. "Don't you dare stop. Fuck, Blake… Oh, Blake!"

I groan, rutting my hips against the couch just to ease the pressure building against my jeans. I'm so fucking hard for her it’s insane .

I suckle her clit more, lick her entrance over and over, then do it again, and again, and again, until she’s writhing beneath me, gasping, pleading as her thighs squeeze my damn head so hard it might just pop off my shoulders.

"FUCK!"

She's about to shatter, her voice completely wrecked.

I hum against her, dragging my fingers down her slick heat, replacing my tongue with two thick fingers, curling them deep inside her as I suck her clit hard.

Her whole body locks up.

Then, she breaks apart.

She screams, arching off the couch, grinding her pussy against my tongue as she comes hard, drenching my mouth in her sweet, perfect fucking arousal.

I drink it in, every last drop of pure fucking perfection.

Her hands fall from my hair, her body collapsing against the cushions. I kiss her inner thigh, then press one last slow, filthy kiss to her still-throbbing clit before finally pulling back.

I stand up, stretching like I didn’t just destroy her entire fucking life.

Sophia is wrecked. Boneless. Sprawled across the couch, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling as she struggles to process what the hell just happened.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, grinning like a man who just won the Stanley Cup.

She looks destroyed.

Absolutely wrecked.

"Well," I smirk, adjusting my pants, my cock still aching behind my zipper. "Even if I have to say it myself… I'm damn good at apologizing."

She makes a weak sound. Something between a disbelieving laugh and a breathless groan, but she’s too far gone to even form words.

I tilt my head. "Need a minute, sweetheart?"

Her gaze sharpens, and there it is - the fire that never stays gone for long.

"You are so—"

"Talented?" I cut in. "Generous? The best thing that’s ever happened to you?"

Her hand fumbles for a pillow, and before I even see it coming… WHACK .

A direct hit to my goddamn face.