Page 45 of The False Start (Off the Bench)

Chapter Thirty

LILA

T he knock on my door jolts me from my wallowing.

“I can’t pretend I wasn’t expecting it,” I mutter to myself as I pause my Taylor Swift Heartbreak playlist. I’ve been listening to it for most of the morning as I worked through my backlog of emails. Nothing spurs productivity like wanting to avoid negative feelings.

I run my fingers through my hair and quickly clean under my eyes with a tissue before heading to the door.

I open the door to Cal holding a bouquet of white peonies.

“Hey.”

I stare at him.

“Uhm, these are for you.” He hands me the flowers.

“Thanks.”

He stands there, looking uncertain.

“Can I come in?”

I open the door wider, and turn back into my condo, finding a vase to put the flowers in.

“I wanted to talk about what you overheard.”

“Okay.” I honestly can’t think of anything I’d rather talk about less, but we probably should discuss it.

“I’m not on great terms with my father.”

Well, that’s not where I thought this was going. I had found rock bottom last night in my spiral and had fully convinced myself our next conversation was going to be him ending things to be with Victoria Winston.

He takes a deep breath, holding eye contact before continuing. “I’m not keeping you from him. You’re not a dirty little secret for me. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

“But how does she know him?” I burst out.

“Tori?”

I snort. “Of course you call her Tori.”

He shoots me a look of disbelief. “I’ve known her since before grade school. Our parents are friends, and we grew up together. When she moved to the States full time to pursue modeling, we reconnected. As friends.” He clarifies the last part at my raised eyebrow.

“It definitely sounded like a friendly little chat I heard.”

“We never officially dated or anything like that. It was always mutually beneficial to be seen together, and that was it. I mean, we fooled around a bit, but it was always just casual.”

I huff and cross my arms. He pulls my wrist from the cross of my arms, pulling me toward him gently.

“I’ve never felt for her the way I feel for you.” He kisses my palm, then the inside of my wrist, eyes locked on me, even as my breath quickens.

“She is nothing but an old friend to me. And one I don’t need to see anymore if she’s going to talk about you or about us like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Lila, you are the only one I want to be with.” He places my hand over his bulky shoulder as his hands find my waist, leaning into me. “Please,” he begs, his breath caressing my neck.

Heat floods my system as I arch into his touch. But one single warning bell rings in my mind.

“Wait.”

He freezes instantly, pulling back to look at my face.

“I want to know you , Cal. That includes knowing about your family. I was upset not just because one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen—she literally gets paid for being pretty—made it entirely too obvious she wanted you, but because I realized that I don’t really know you, and she knows you better. ”

“You might not know my entire life story, but you do know me. You know who I am, possibly better than anyone else does.”

I shake my head. “I want to know your life story.” Doesn’t he get it? “Don’t you want to know mine?” I can’t quite keep the hurt from my voice.

“Lila, I want to know every single thing about you. I want to know what you eat for breakfast every morning, so I can see what you like to start your day with. I want to know what your favorite show to watch as a child was, so I know what comforts you. I want to know what lip gloss you wear so that I never have to go a day without tasting you. I want to know what shampoo you use so I can smell your hair when I sleep.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, one cheek, then the other, before ghosting one across my lips.

“I want to know everything . I just don’t always know how to ask, and I didn’t want to push you. ”

“This relationship won’t work if you’re scared to talk to me.” I frown, realizing a bit of a pattern. One I have had too much of a role in creating in the first place.

“I know. Do you want to meet my father?”

I hesitate and nod. “Would it be better to meet your mom first if your father is going to hate me that much?” I try to tease, but the humor falls flat.

“Well since she’s in England, it poses a bit of a problem.”

“Oh right. Yes, I think I should.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He grins at me.

“Why?” I ask, suddenly unsure.

“Because we’re having Christmas dinner with him.”

I gape. “Excuse me?”

“I thought it was time to introduce you, so I called him on the way home after I dropped you off from the party.”

“What if I had said no?”

“Well then I’d cancel.” He shrugs.

“You already had that planned before you got here?”

“Of course.” The open affection on his face combined with his thumb slowly rubbing circles in my hip is too much, and I surge forward to kiss him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his mouth. “I know I overreacted last night. I just—well I have a lot of insecurities about not being good enough, and I heard in real time how I might fall short of your expectations. I don’t want to disappoint you or your family.”

“Love, you won’t disappoint me. But you should know one more thing about my father before you meet him.”

I look up at him, waiting.

“He controls my trust until I turn thirty-five. Because of it, he feels he gets a say in my life, especially about how I’m ‘carrying on the family legacy.’”

“Trust?”

“Yeah, my family’s what you might call old money.”

“You’re a professional athlete,” I say, confused. “Why do you need a trust?”

“I don’t really. But he could take all of it, the way the wording is set up. And I’d like to have something to leave for my own legacy, whenever that is.” He sighs. “Besides, I actually don’t keep any of my salary from the Avalanche. It goes straight to charity.”

“Cal, please tell me you don’t actually donate millions of dollars a year to some whale conservancy.” I fake exasperation, and he scowls at me.

“Not all of it. Most goes toward research grants back at Yale, or local scholarship programs both here and in New York.” I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

He kisses me. “Just let me be incredible for you,” he says, pressing his mouth to mine once more.

His arms tighten around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His head slants, deepening the kiss as his tongue sweeps in, tangling with mine. I sink my fingers into his hair, the platinum strands silky beneath my hands.

“Bed,” I breathe as he kisses down my jaw.

He lifts me and walks toward my bedroom, his hands beneath my upper thighs as my legs wrap around him automatically.

I have a moment of panic as I think back to what state I left my bedroom in this morning.

It doesn’t matter how many times my mother yelled at us to make our beds every morning, it didn’t stick.

When his mouth reaches the juncture of my neck and shoulder any worry melts away because nothing could possibly matter as much as having his hands on me.

I tug at his collar, and he breaks away, settling my feet back on the floor to pull his sweatshirt up over his head before tossing it on the floor and peeling my own hoodie from my body.

We crash back together, and when his fingers tease my nipple through my tank top, I’m grateful I didn’t bother to put on a bra today. He pinches it, and I gasp.

The next thing I know, I’m against the wall, Cal pressing into me as his hands grip my ass, grinding me down on his thigh.

I can’t help the moan that escapes me. The pleasure builds low in my gut as I drag myself along his muscled leg, my leggings creating a barrier from the friction I so desperately need.

“Yes, love. Take what you need from me.”

“Can’t—leggings. Off.” The headiness of my words doesn’t hit me until I hear his chuckle.

He tilts my head up to meet his eyes, darkened with lust. “No, I think you can come like this.”

I whimper, and he squeezes the sides of my neck, a challenge in his gaze. The heat in my body rises as the lightheadedness takes over. He pulls the waistband of my leggings taught, increasing the friction, and I’m rising higher. So close I can almost taste it.

“Cal,” I moan. “Please. I’m close.”

“I know, love.” He grins wickedly down at me. “Eyes on me, I want to watch.”

My eyes meet his, and the hunger in them drives me onward, spiraling even higher to the precipice.

“Come for me, Lila.”

And I free fall into my orgasm. He doesn’t give me a second to come down before he picks me up dropping me in the middle of my bed and peeling my soaked leggings off me.

I glance at his jeans and see a wet spot on his thigh.

“Your jeans?—”

“Don’t fucking care. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and if I don’t taste you right now, I’m going to lose my mind.

” He kneels at the foot of my bed, and drags me nearly to the edge, throwing a leg over each shoulder and taking one long swipe of this tongue over my center and up to my clit.

We groan in unison, and he wraps one arm around my hips, pinning me to the bed before he devours me like I’m his last meal on death row.

With a combination of long drags of his tongue and small circles around my clit, it doesn’t take long until the pressure is building once more, and I fist my hand in his hair.

He smiles against my skin before his teeth drag across my clit, forcing a cry from my mouth before he pushes his tongue into me.

“Fuck, Cal.”

“I love the way you taste,” he growls.

His tongue thrusts into me, and if I cared, the combined sounds of my moans and heavy breathing and the wet slurping sounds from Cal would be nearly obscene.

“One more Lila, and then I’ll fuck you like the good girl you are.”

Two fingers replace his tongue, and when they curl up into me, I crash into yet another orgasm.

He stands from his place on the floor, his eyes feral as he licks his fingers clean, before climbing over me, guiding his cock to my entrance.

One glance at me to check that I’m ready, and he pushes in to the hilt.

I gasp, but he gives me a second to adjust, though it’s only one before he’s moving within me.

There’s nothing slow or tender about the way he’s fucking me, but it’s not just for pleasure either.

There’s something in his eyes, locked onto mine, that I can’t place.

I grip his shoulders tighter, moving one hand to cup his cheek.

He wraps my hand in his before pinning it to the bed above my head, and lowering his mouth to mine, his tongue stroking mine in tandem to his cock.

I can taste myself on his mouth, and it’s hot as hell.

I grip him to me, relishing in his weight pressing me into the mattress.

“Fuck,” he groans, when I scratch my nails along his back. His thrusts turn faster, more disjointed until he stutters to a stop. He kisses me once more, before kissing my temple and leaning his forehead to mine. I swallow my disappointment that it’s over.

“Sorry, love. I wasn’t planning for it to be over that fast.” His sheepish grin is answer enough.

I laugh. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“You should.” He kisses my forehead again, and something in my chest melts. “But that doesn’t mean it’s over.” He eases out of me slowly. “Do you have a toy you like to use?”

The melty feeling promptly freezes.

“Uhm, that’s okay,” I say, embarrassed, and try to roll out from under him.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” My face is heating for an entirely new reason now.

“Let me rephrase. Do you want me to make you come using your favorite toy or my hands?”

“You don’t have to, I’m fine.”

“Don’t do this to me, love. Let me get you off again.” He nuzzles my neck, planting kisses along my collar bone.

“Bedside drawer,” I gasp out.

The grin he gives me is sinful before he leans over to the small drawer, removing not just one, but two hot pink silicone toys,

“Tsk tsk tsk. I think we can do better than this.” He holds up the dildo.

“What do you mean? It gets the job done.”

He holds it next to his own member. While they might be a similar length, Cal is definitely thicker.

I snort. “Well, you won’t ever feel inadequate at least.”

He lines up the toy, and pushes it in slowly, holding eye contact.

“I’m going to fuck my cum back into you.” I whimper as he holds up the second toy, turning it on, a subtle humming filling the space, and holds it to my clit.

My body jerks at the touch.

“Be a good girl and stay still for me, love.”

The intensity of the vibrations nearly sets me on fire. I’ve gone solo using these two toys plenty of times, but just being able to feel the pleasure without the added ache in my forearms of doing it myself is something I’ve decided every woman should experience once.

Cal twists the dildo as he pumps it in and out, and I shoot off like a rocket, shuddering around the silicone as he fucks me through my orgasm, switching up the tempo so instead of coming down I stay high, the pressure already wound.

“One more I think, since I couldn’t do it on my own today.”

He turns on the dildo vibration, angling it to hit my g-spot.

“Oh God, Cal,” I call out. I’m right on the edge, and as he turns up the vibration another notch on my egg, I see white, my muscles locking up as I have what might be the best orgasm of my life.

When I finally come down, Cal is in my bathroom, cleaning the toys. It’s all I can do to roll over, feeling entirely worn out, but in the best way, and I know I’m going to be deliciously sore in a few hours.

“How are you feeling?” He smirks at me from the doorway to my en suite.

“Good.” I smile sleepily at him.

“Just good?”

“Hmm, maybe a little better than just good.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not yet, but I didn’t eat lunch so . . .”

“I’ll order something.” He grabs his phone from his jeans, still on the floor by my bed. “Chipotle, okay?”

I nod. And the conversation from earlier comes flooding back.

“So, Christmas Dinner with your dad?”

“Yes, if that’s acceptable?” He looks up from his phone, standing at the edge of my bed.

“Yeah. I guess you should meet my family too then. Right?”

“Only if you want us to meet. I know it’s not always the easiest with them. But if you want me to, I’d be more than happy to meet them.”

“I’ll call my mom.” I sigh. “I guess this means we’re getting serious, huh?” I joke.

“Lila, I’ve never been more serious about something.” He leans over, pressing his mouth to mine slowly, sweetly.

The look in his eyes is overwhelming, and I glance away not quite ready to think about what that means.

I burrow myself into the blankets on my bed, and he moves to sit next to me, pulling me against him.

“Sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I smile, and the last thing I see before I drift off are his eyes looking down at me with something suspiciously like love in them.