Page 10 of Power Play (Titans Hockey #2)

Chapter eight

Lacey

T here's a light knock on my door. I check my phone. It's two in the morning. I haven't been able to get to sleep. I can't help replaying today's events over and over again in my head. And then admonishing myself because I know what terrible side effects lack of sleep has on a body.

Tracey invited herself to this trip just to fuck with me.

Ben lost control on that bumpy road, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what that meant.

I remembered the night he was talking about.

We had been in my childhood room, with my parents downstairs, when he took me from behind in front of my mirror.

It was so fucking hot, forbidden, perfect.

When we got to the cabin, I ran inside and barely made it into a bathroom before I had my hand down my pants, panting, and relieving the ache Jonesy's driving had given me.

Then Tracey spilled wine on me, before Jonesy tried to make me jealous.

The thing, though? Is that I was jealous.

For half a heartbeat, I was jealous. Maybe not of Jonesy directly?

But the Titans were my thing. This job was my thing.

These hockey players were mine to take care of.

And I was starting to like Jonesy. I've seen how he is around the other hockey players, but he'd be nice to me that day on the roof.

He helped me when he didn't even know me and shared his private space with me.

It was selfless. And the way he just let me work through my stuff and sat with my in silence.

He didn't try to fix my problem or fix me.

He just sat with me, told me to breathe, and allowed me to take up space.

To take up space in his private safety net. It had meant more to me than he knows.

And yeah, maybe I thought he might have had a crush on me. And the idea made me feel good to be wanted, appreciated.

So maybe it stung a little and took the wind from my sails when he turned out to be just like every other guy in my life.

Except Ben.

The highly tuned part of my psyche that's focused on self-preservation shut down every emotion before it could even fully develop. I went into my "robot mode" as Ben likes to call it. He's seen it enough to recognize it, and the sweetheart that he is always gets pissed off on my behalf.

I contemplate ignoring the person outside my door, but they tap again.

"Yes?" I whisper to the closed door. Luckily, there are enough rooms here, the women all got individual rooms while the boys, minus Jonesy, share a large rec room with bunk beds.

"Lace, it's me," Ben's quiet voice sounds as he opens the door.

I slump back against my bed and stare at the ceiling.

If I'm honest, I haven't gotten much sleep at all this week.

I knew there was a risk I would end up working for Ben's team, but the wave of emotions it's brought me were completely unexpected.

It might have been eight years, but I never truly stopped loving him.

Even when I'd been with other men, convinced I'd never see Ben again, I knew he still had my heart.

I think you always have a soft spot for your first. Or.

.. at least your first when it's with someone as amazing as him.

But now? Now what am I supposed to do with him?

I'm fucking terrified, if I'm honest with myself.

I'm terrified of what will happen if we get back together.

I'm terrified of what will happen if we don't. Will I have to watch puck bunnies throw themselves at him?

Will I have to follow the Titans' Instagram and see him out on dates with beautiful, famous women?

What if he wants to pick back up where we left off in high school? What if he doesn't?

I feel tears pinprick behind my eyelids. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe I should apply with a different team.

The bed dips next me to as Ben kneels on it.

"Hey, baby," he whispers, his low, cool voice feels like a balm across my harried brain.

"Hey," I give back, sheepishly, shyly, sadly. I want to be the B and L we were in high school. Best friends. Lovers. The naive, inexperienced kids. When everything was simpler, and we still had stars in our eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

Ben slips his hand underneath my shirt but rests it on my stomach.

It's a comforting move he used often back then.

The need for non-sexual skin on skin contact was strong for us both.

We would often spend hours, just like we are now, talking about our dreams for the future.

We made sure we always focused on the positive and never talked about the negative in our lives.

"How... are you?" I will my voice not to crack but it doesn't listen. This is the first real one-on-one time we've had together were we can be completely open, vulnerable - connect on a level we haven't in forever - one I'm not sure I want.

"Better now," Ben whispers, bringing his face to the crook where my neck meets my shoulder .

"B..." I groan. My voice is strangled. Need warring with fear. Desperation warring with indecision. I want him. I always want him. But I know it's a bad idea.

"Lay," his nickname for me. "I get it. You don't want anything serious. You don't want to get involved. You've got a new job in a new city and a new team to worry about," he says, his lips seductively moving against my shoulder, my collarbone, my neck.

"I understand and respect that. What I'm asking for is a few minutes to make you feel better.

To make you forget all the bullshit. Tomorrow we can go back to being coworkers with zero expectations.

.. " he pauses, and I know he's about to say something I won't like.

"But I know this weekend has been a lot for you.

.."He presses his hard, heavy erection against my hip.

"I just want to help get you out of your own head for a bit. "

In an instant I remember the taste of him. The feel of him. The kisses. The sex. Does he have sex the same way he did in high school? Or has his tastes grown... more eclectic? Will I enjoy it? Or will it hurt me to know he's not the same man anymore?

Shame washes over me. He's not my B anymore. He's Ben Kowalski, who plays professional hockey for the North Carolina Titans and fucks bunnies whenever he wants. Of course he'll be different.

But then so am I. I'm not L from Pinebrook whose only been with one man and is afraid of her own shadow.

I'm Lacey Bennett. I can have sex with a man and not fall in love with him.

I trust Ben. We'll have sex tonight, and tomorrow we'll go back to being professional friends.

I'm not hurting him. He said so himself.

And I really, really want to get out of my own head .

I reach down and cup his erection through his workout pants.

"I can't promise you anything..." I whisper as I turn my head towards his, his familiar pink lips an inch from mine.

"I know, baby. I'll get you out of your head for tonight, make you feel good, and we'll figure out tomorrow, tomorrow. I have zero expectations. I won't even spend the night."

A part of me doubts him. This is B. He's loved me. And I've loved him. But maybe it's different for him now. Maybe he doesn't love me as much.

Oh, fuck it. I'm tired of my own brain. And I trust him. He's never made me feel anything but safe and protected.

I surge forward and capture his lips with mine. His low growl of approval ignites my blood. My hands fly to the back of his head, pulling him closer against mine, deepening the kiss. Our tongues tangle, lips moving in a practiced pattern. It's familiar, but different, too.

I twist my body to meet his, slinging my leg across his hip and using it to pull him closer. To pull his cock closer to where I want it. Towards what I need to shut my brain off.

The hand on my stomach reaches up and cups one of my breasts, squeezing it deliciously. He grinds his hard cock against my core, and I whimper.

God, I want him. I'm about to roll him onto his back and take control, but he does it first, rolling me onto my back and tugging my sleep shorts off roughly. With no tenderness or preamble, he licks me from bottom to top before sucking on my clit. I moan, loudly, before arching my back .

Ben gently slaps the outside of my thigh. "I love all of your noises, sweetheart, but I don't think you want people knowing what we're doing in here. Can you be a good girl for me and keep quiet?"

Holy, fuck. My pussy clenches with his words. Ben the Boy never had dirty talk. I look down at him, whiskey-brown eyes glimmering in the moonlight, sinister grin on his face, his lips and chin glistening with my cum. I don't mind Ben the Man at all. Not at all.

I nod. I lay my head back down before covering my mouth with my hand.

Ben's methods haven't changed, but his confidence has.

There's no more tentative touches, gentle caresses.

He's not making love to me, he's eating me out like a man starved.

Something about the brutality of it has me finally relaxing and letting go.

He really is here just to get me to forget and feel good.

It's the last puzzle piece I need to fully let go.

I haven't had sex in forever, so I'm already close to coming. But I want him inside of me. I want to fuck. I don't want to get off with his mouth.

"Ben," I whisper, fingers threading through his hair, I grab two handfuls and pull, lifting his head off of me.

"I need you, now," I grunt out. My brain feels like it's drowning in lust.

He must see the desperation in my face, because it reflects on his. He wipes my cum off of his mouth with the back of his hand before lifting one of my legs and pausing at my entrance.

"I didn't come here for this. I didn't bring a condom. But I'm clean, and you're still on the pill, right? "

I nod. I've had terrible periods my entire life.

According to my OBGYN, ninety percent of the population goes into fight-or-flight when they're in pain, and ten percent just fucking shut down and go into shock.

Apparently, I'm in the lucky ten percent, so my period pain sends me into shock.

I can't afford to shut down, vomit, and pass out every month, so we found a birth control that works for me. I've been on it since I was fifteen.

He wastes no time. He's likely rushing so I don't have a chance to spiral and talk myself out of it. He slams home with one thrust, bottoming out and filling me so deliciously. I would have screamed if there was any air left in my lungs, but he's effectively stolen it all.

He feels like safety, security, bliss. He feels like home.

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead on the ankle of my raised leg.

"Fuck, L," he groans.

I take a ragged breath in, willing my body to relax and accept him. He feels impossibly big inside of me, and with one leg raised it feels even tighter.

Ben slides out an inch, testing how much I can take, before slamming home again.

"Not gonna last, L..." he groans, eyes still closed. His face is pinched in wicked pleasure, and I know it feels just as good to him.

"Don't... just... " Christ, my brain is mush. Luckily, he understands lust-drunk Lacey.

He bends forwards, bracing himself on his hand on either side of my head.

My one leg is pinned between his knees, while the other bends with him towards my head.

Thank God for yoga. I wrap one hand around the back of his neck, fingers digging into the flesh there.

The other covers my mouth as he sets a filthy pace with his hips.

Every thrust hits my G-spot, and every time he slams home it's like a slap to my clit.

My orgasm hits me my a freight train, every muscle in my body clenches as wave after wave of pleasure pours through me.

My orgasm triggers Ben's and he comes, grunting and biting my calf. Seeing him so unleashed and the gentle pain of the bite trigger another, smaller orgasm to run through me.

Ben moves gently, drawing out every last tremor as my body slowly unwinds

When my muscles finally relax, Ben pulls out of me, with a tender kiss to my forehead.

He finds tissues on the dresser and cleans me up. I'm too sated to move, but I do appreciate that I won't have to sleep with cum on my ass.

Before I can say anything else, he kisses my forehead again and gets dressed before walking to the door.

"Thank you," I whisper. Ben has never had anything but my best interests at heart. I know he's hoping for a happy reunion. And maybe one day we can have that, but I'm truly grateful for the patience he's shown me.

He's a good man.

"Goodnight, Lacey."