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Chapter Twenty-Six

Christina

Cam bounds into my house, hair wet, smelling like wine, and still revved from his shutout.

I’ve been pacing and tidying, unable to sit still despite the late hour from sheer excitement for him. Now he rushes to me and lifts me, spinning me around.

“Congratulations,” I manage through breathless laughter. “But why are you wet and why do you smell like a wino?”

He shakes his head, sending droplets flying. “Someone decided it would be fun to celebrate with popping champagne. All over us.”

“Let me guess. Your roommate?”

“Yep.” He puts me down and shrugs, clearly uncaring about his suit right now. Skimming the jacket off his shoulders, he hangs it over a kitchen chair to dry. “My heart’s still racing. I wasn’t sure I was going to keep it locked down through the game. After, I was in shock for a couple minutes and since then I’m riding high. I shouldn’t stay long because I have no idea how long it will take me to be able to sleep.”

“Okay. We’ll see.” I slip off the robe I’ve been wearing to show his favorite baby doll nightie underneath. “I thought of one way you could burn some of that energy, if you’re up for it?”

“God,” his voice is a reverent whisper. “You’re gorgeous in anything, Dancer. Damn if that doesn’t give me at least a half dozen ideas. We can start with yours and go from there.”

I squeak out a laugh as he grabs me again, carrying me down the short hall with his hands under my butt and my limbs wrapped around him.

Tossing me on the bed, he runs his hands from my shoulders over my breasts to my hips and then down my legs. Dragging them wide, he steps closer and unbuttons his shirt as he stares at me spread out, a feast for him.

His muscled chest and slabs of abs come into view and I salivate, wanting to taste him. His belt buckle jangles and my gaze goes to the big reveal coming, my desire to lick those muscles forgotten while I enjoy the view.

Hooking his thumbs in his boxer briefs, he is naked and crawls over me, kneeling between my legs.

I place a hand on his abdomen and the muscles flex under me, sending heat up my arm. “Hang on a minute. I want to enjoy the view.”

“Later. I need to burn energy, remember?” he says with a grin. Breaking my hold, he leans in and takes one of the thin shoulder straps of my nightgown in his teeth and drags it down my arm until my breast pops free. His mouth and tongue are hot and wet, searing my sensitive flesh.

I arch up, but he pushes me back, going to my other shoulder and repeating the sequence.

His teeth hold my nipple, his tongue making fast flicks against it.

I writhe under him.

He takes advantage of my movements and skims the nightgown down and off me, releasing my breast to sweep the fabric off my legs. When he turns back, he takes a moment to admire me, and I’ve never felt so beautiful. Then he’s in motion again.

I grab him as soon as he leans down to lick into my mouth. My back arches up to feel as much of his skin against mine as I can reach. When his cock brushes my damp folds, I sigh into his mouth. We’re both eager to celebrate his victory, and my hand clenches on his hip to tug him closer, urging him to hurry.

Always considerate, he nudges against my opening, testing my readiness, as this is the shortest amount of time we’ve ever spent on foreplay. Bracing on one elbow, he grabs my knee to open me further and slides inside. Tearing his lips from mine, he groans in pleasure. “You’re rushing me, but damn.”

“We can try your ideas after this.”

“If you insist.” His hips begin a rhythmic glide in and out and I sigh against his cheek, running my hands along what I can reach of his broad back.

His hand lingers near my breast, my knee in the crook of his elbow, and he puts his fingers to good use, tweaking my nipple as he knows I like.

I’m in a fog of pleasure knowing how well he tends my goal. My body hasn’t caught up, though. There is a bit less lubrication and a bit more friction. His speed is slow enough, I relax and enjoy his drugging kisses, his thumb across my hard tip, his strength holding himself over me.

He shifts his weight slightly, his hips thrusting at a different angle.

A dull pain erupts when he bottoms out and I tense.

He thrusts again, and it aches again. “Hey, are you all right? Did I hurt you?” I must have winced for him to notice.

“I—I don’t know. I’m a little tender.” My voice comes out shaky, but I don’t want to ruin it for him. Tonight was a huge milestone for his career and this is supposed to be a celebration. Remembering my friends’ advice regarding communication, I ask, “You’re just so big. Can you not go quite so deep for a bit, please?”

“Sure.” His movements get shallower, slower, but he’s watching my face, and I can’t get my brain out of worry mode. He, too, seems more concerned than aroused.

Great. I’ve killed our mood.

He withdraws. “Hey, I don’t want to worry about hurting you. How about we try one of my ideas now?”

“If it’s something that allows you to lay back and relax. This is supposed to be your night.”

“Oh, trust me. It’s my night. Getting to have you here like this is everything I want to celebrate.” With that, he slides backwards off the bed to kneel, dragging me to him with his hands under my butt and then spreading me wide. Before I can form words to protest, his mouth is on me.

My thoughts are still half on concern about what that pain meant. But his tongue circling my clit is the best sort of distraction. Besides, I can’t ask my doctor anything tonight. If this gorgeous man wants to find a different way to give me orgasms, who am I to deny him?

He adds one finger slowly, only going far enough to flutter over my G-spot, and I’m lost. I stop thinking, but only after promising myself to return the favor when it’s my turn.

* * * *

Cam has to leave at the crack of dawn to pack for tomorrow’s away game.

I check Maria’s recent texts to verify that she’s on early at the café, so I throw on clothes and drive there. I’ll drink tea until she can take a break.

As soon as her coworkers are caught up on the morning rush, she comes over. She knows this wide-eyed, hair up in a messy bun, yoga clothes look. She steps in to hug me before sliding into the chair across from me at the little corner table. “What’s going on?”

“It’s back.”

She wags her head side to side, keeping her gaze on me. “It being…?”

“My condition.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It hurt.” I realize that may not be clear, so I lean in and hiss, “ sex hurt.”

“Oh no.” Maria squeezes my hand on the table. “Tell me. How bad, what were you doing, how did Cam deal with it. Wait”—she tilts her head—“it was with Cam, right?”

I growl.

She laughs. “Okay, okay, just trying to get your shoulders to drop a bit.”

“It wasn’t cramping like last time. More of a dull ache. And it wasn’t continuous.”

She raises her brows, plants her elbow on the table, and plops her chin in her hand. “When did it hurt then?”

“When he went super deep.”

“Fingers, cock, what?”

“Um, the second.” I glance around. She’s keeping her voice down, but still I worry. Not only is my family known to some extent in Austin, although my face less so than my brother’s, but Cam certainly is.

“How’s his size?”

“Maria! I’m not sharing that with you. Besides, I don’t have that much to compare him to.”

“Okay.” She hesitates for a minute, then asks, “Just tell me, is he bigger than your BOB?”

I nod, my cheeks hot. I’m curious enough about why she’s asking to capitulate on oversharing.

“What were you doing before that? Oh, and what position?”

“Missionary, which we haven’t done a lot of because the doc said that was the most likely to hurt. But we were—ah, a little eager last night. So there wasn’t as much activity before that.”

She slaps her hand on the table lightly and sat back, folding her arms across her chest, grinning like Cheshire Cat.

“What?” There is nothing funny about my endometriosis being back.

“It’s not back, sweetie. You’re fine. I mean, call the doctor, of course, but you’re okay.”

I frown. “How do you know?”

“Cuz most women, the lucky ones, have had that once or twice.”

“Have had what ? Geez, cryptic much? Stop torturing me and tell me already.” Even if she’s telling me there’s nothing to worry about, I’d feel more confident if I understand what she’s talking about.

She grins and explains, “You didn’t have enough warmup for a guy that big, and your vajajay wasn’t as stretchy as it needed to be. He was just bumping you too hard.”

No wonder she asked about his size. Could it be that simple? But, “Again, how do you know?”

“You said it yourself. It’s a different pain than in the past, and it wasn’t continuous, only when he went deep.” She hisses a dramatic sigh and looks heavenward. “Ah, to have that happen again.”

“You really think it’s all right?”

“Ask your doc, she’s great at responding in email within a day. But make sure you give her all the info you gave me.” She uncrosses an arm to point a finger at me. “You didn’t answer the most important question, though. What did he do? Did he notice at least?”

I describe his reaction and without giving details, add, “We both enjoyed the rest of the evening in turn.”

She is gaping at me. “Dayum. Are you kidding? He not only notices, but stops what he’s doing and gives you—” she leans in to hiss—“oral? You need to marry this guy or I will.”

“What?! You know this is casual. He wants kids.”

“Have you told him about the endo?”

“No. Why would I? It’s casual .”

“Because what if it isn’t for him? And because of things like last night, although I’ll admit he reacted better than I’d have bet any man would, even without knowing. And because I suspect you passed casual a month ago.”

I glare at her, lips pressed flat. “It is, and I didn’t. I appreciate the support, but please don’t push the emotional stuff. I can’t have kids and he wants them. This has to stay casual. Never mind the fact that he will be negotiating a new contract at the end of this season and dating an owner would be super messy. We’re still ending it after the dances at the Holiday Ball.”

That hurts to say, even to Maria. Dammit, she may be right. That doesn’t mean I won’t end it, though. And if he finds out I can’t have kids, it won’t be up to me.