Page 29 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)

We stood there a second too long, the air tight between us. I didn’t know what the hell this was or how far it would go, but for once, it didn’t feel like I was carrying it all by myself. And that scared the shit out of me.

“I’m staying here tonight,” I said finally, my voice rougher than I meant. “Just to keep an eye on her. ”

Wren nodded, slow, like she’d been expecting it. Her gaze lingered on mine, and for a second, it felt like we were both asking the same question without saying it out loud. What do we do now?

The house was quiet, only the hum of the furnace and the occasional creak in the walls. My mom was asleep down the hall in her recliner, and it left the two of us standing in my old room, the past painted on the walls and the present pressing between us.

I stepped closer. She didn’t move away.

Her eyes lifted to mine, unsure but locked there, and I reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. The small movement broke whatever line we’d been toeing.

She drew in a sharp, quiet breath. “Talon…”

I didn’t let her finish. My mouth found hers, soft at first, like testing the weight of something fragile. She kissed me, tentative, until my hand slid to her neck and pulled her closer.

It started slow, then hit hard—her lips parting, her fingers bunching the front of my shirt. The kiss turned rougher, months of tension finally snapping, but I still held on to control.

Her back hit the wall, my body crowding hers before I even thought about it. Her breath caught, heat rolling off her. My thumb slid along her jaw, down to her throat, pausing where her pulse jumped under my hand.

She tipped her head back, giving me more. I dragged my mouth down her neck, slow, catching the taste of skin and sweat. Her nails dug into the back of my neck, sharp enough to make me shiver .

“Tell me to stop,” I muttered against her skin, my chest tight. “If you don’t want this—”

“I do,” she breathed, voice breaking like she meant it.

That was all I needed.

I lifted her, her legs locking around my waist like it was second nature.

She fit too damn well, like she always had.

Carrying her to the bed, I set her down on the old sheets, the mattress groaning under us.

I leaned over her, holding myself up, but my focus stayed on the sound of her uneven breaths, her eyes locked on mine like she was making a choice.

I brushed my knuckles over her cheek and along her jaw. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Her answer came fast—she yanked me down, her mouth crashing against mine. “Don’t stop.”

I didn’t.

My lips trailed down her throat, catching at her collarbone. She shivered when my teeth grazed her skin, fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. My hands slid over her, memorizing every curve, every sound she made.

She grabbed at my hoodie, tugging until I pulled it over my head and tossed it aside. Her palms were warm against my skin, urging me back down. I reached for her shirt, hesitating only long enough to meet her eyes. Then I peeled it off, and she let it fall, already pulling me in again.

I fumbled with her jeans, and she laughed softly when my hands slipped. I kissed her again, deeper this time, as we pushed the rest of our clothes away in a rush, leaving only skin and the heat between us.

I pressed her into the mattress, bracing my weight above her. For a moment, I just looked at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and the way her eyes held mine like the rest of the world had fallen away.

God help me, I had never wanted anyone the way I wanted Wren.

My fingers brushed over her slit, and the way her body responded made my chest tighten. I lifted my hand, tasting her on my skin, groaning low in my throat.

Nothing would ever compare to her. To this moment.

She trembled beneath me, stomach quivering with need. I reached for my wallet, relief hitting when my fingers brushed the condom I kept there. It had been a long time since I’d needed one. Long before the night Wren walked into my life again.

I tore the wrapper open, the sound sharp in the quiet room, and rolled it on before settling between her thighs. I slowed, remembering the way she’d admitted once that she didn’t have much experience. I wasn’t about to hurt her.

She tensed at first, her body tight around me, and I sucked in a sharp breath. She was warm, soft, and impossibly perfect. I bent low, my mouth finding her breast, flicking my tongue over her until I felt her begin to loosen under me, her fingers sliding into my hair as if anchoring herself there.

“You okay?” I murmured. She nodded, her eyes catching mine, and then she lifted her hips in silent invitation.

I drew back and pushed in again, slower this time, until the sounds she made shifted. Not in pain, but in pleasure. Her face changed with it, lips parting, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh my God…” she whispered, breathless.

I gritted my teeth, the words breaking out of me. “Tell me again how much you hate me. Tell me you don’t feel this between us.” I adjusted her legs higher, pushing her open, needing her to understand. “We both know nothing this good could ever be wrong. I was wrong about you.”

I pushed her legs up against her chest. Her hands gripped behind her knees, and I snaked my hand between us to slide my finger through her folds.

When I brushed my thumb over her clit again, her body jerked, wetter than before, making every thrust harder to hold back.

“Tell me, Wren,” I grunted.

She exhaled a heavy breath, shaking her head.

Her voice broke as she clung tighter. “I was wrong too. I wanted to hurt you, to make you feel half of what I felt. But you make me feel out of control. Like I can’t stop how much I want you.”

“There’s no going back now,” I said, my voice rough, the words scraping out of me.

“Not after this. Not after knowing what it’s like to have you.

” I pressed my forehead to hers, forcing her to hear it, to feel it.

“I made myself a promise—I’d only ever take you like this if you were mine. And you are. You always have been.”

My head dropped, eyes locked on where we were joined, the sight pulling a groan out of me. “Wish you could see how good you look taking me, baby,” I muttered, my voice rough. She breathed my name, quiet, broken. “Fuck, I’m close. I can feel your sweet pussy gripping me tighter.”

Her shaky whisper of my name undid me.

When it hit, everything snapped. She cried out, nails dragging down my back, holding on like she couldn’t let go. I buried my face in her neck, driving through it, lost in the heat and the rush until nothing was left but her .

Afterward, the room went still, heavy with silence. My chest pressed against hers, both of us slick with sweat, our breaths uneven and caught between us.

Her fingers drifted over my shoulder, unsure, not knowing what came next. I pushed her damp hair off her face, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, and pulled her in and held her.

The quiet stretched, steadying me in a way I didn’t expect—until the sharp buzz of my phone in my pocket on the floor shattered the moment.

I groaned, reaching for it, already set on ignoring whoever it was until I saw the name. My whole body shifted, shoulders tight, jaw locked.

“Kade,” I muttered, answering. “Yeah?”

Wren pushed up onto one elbow, hair falling loose around her face. She couldn’t see the screen, but her eyes stayed on mine, searching.

I listened, my brows knitting tighter by the second. Without a word, I set the phone on speaker and held it between us.

Kade’s voice filled the room, clipped and low. “You’re not gonna believe what I just heard.”

Wren’s arms folded across her chest, bracing like she already knew it wasn’t good.

“I was heading past Coach Dawson’s office,” Kade said. “The door was cracked, and he didn’t notice me. He was on the phone, talking fast, and he sounded nervous.”

I let out a slow breath.

Kade hesitated before adding, “I heard him say the Brighter Futures donation would cover the next phase. Said he just needed to keep the team focused until it was finalized. Then he mentioned compliance—like he was sure they wouldn’t step in again.”

My stomach dropped.

My fingers twitched against the sheets, itching to curl into fists. Wren’s hand slid into mine. I glanced down at where we touched, surprised at how much I needed it. I didn’t pull away.

Kade went on. “He didn’t name names, but it was shady as hell. I didn’t stick around, not wanting to get caught. But it was enough. He’s involved, T. I’m sure of it.”

The silence on my end said it all. My jaw clenched until I could taste blood.

“Fuck,” I muttered finally, my voice low. “Keep it to yourself for now. I need to call Reed. I’ll circle back once I know more.”

“Copy that.” The line clicked dead.

The room felt different after, heavy with a weight I couldn’t shake. I stared at the phone like it had betrayed me, the confirmation sinking in. The anger simmered under my skin, but exhaustion was there too, pressing down like lead.

“Coach…” The word scraped out of me.

Wren shifted beside me. “You think the compliance office already knew about this and they looked the other way?”

I shook my head, exhaling slowly, my hand trembling where it rested against hers. She squeezed tighter, steadying me.

“If Coach is tied to the PAC,” I said finally, “then it doesn’t stop with the team. It doesn’t stop with NIL deals or game fixing.” My gaze lifted to hers. “It has to go deeper. ”

She didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. Not when she’d been thinking the same thing.

I dragged a hand down my face. “I don’t have it all figured out. But the more we hear, the more it’s clear this goes beyond hockey. Beyond us. And once we’re in, we’re in. There’s no getting out.”

Her eyes found mine and held, like she’d already made her peace with whatever came next. The air between us sparked, and for a second, it felt like the only thing keeping me going was her refusing to look away.

“You still want in?” I asked, my chest tight, every muscle pulled taut with the question. “Even after everything?”

Her voice shook, but she didn’t waver. “I’m already in.”

The silence dragged. Neither of us spoke, but we knew what it meant.

I kept my eyes on her, holding onto the fact she wasn’t backing down. This wasn’t just about hockey anymore. It wasn’t just about getting through it. It was about trust—choosing to stand together when shit was about to hit the fan.

I couldn’t tell what scared me more—what we were walking into, or how much I needed her to face it with me.