Page 12
Arden
I always thought I possessed a reasonable amount of regrets for the average person.
Not going to prom because no one “proposed”.
Skipping the stage walk when I graduated college because it gave me the wrong gladiator in coliseum vibes.
Moving into a mansion I didn’t want, didn’t ask for, and doesn’t really feel like I belong in simply because my parents bought it for me.
Never would’ve guessed wearing Snowman’s All-Star conference shirt to bed was going to be added to the list.
Tossing my balled-up clothing on top of my black suitcase that’s right outside the bathroom door as I round the corner is followed by a heavy, frustrated sigh. “ Seriously ?” My palms fall onto my green cheer shorts covered hips. “Why isn’t there shit on the floor for me to sleep on yet?”
He doesn’t bother glancing up from the edge of the bed where he’s texting. “I was busy.”
“You couldn’t pause sexting the slut of the week long enough to toss a pillow and blanket on the ground?”
“I don’t have a slut of the week.”
“Day then.”
“Not that either.” Snowman finishes up his message and meets my glare. “And-” Whatever he was originally going to say is swiftly replaced by his smug statement. “That’s my All-Star conference shirt from last year.”
“So?”
“So, why are you wearing it?”
“Because I sleep in it.”
There’s no denying the arrogance that grows across his complexion. “You sleep in my number?”
“I sleep in Dalvegan t-shirts.”
“Do they all have my number on them?”
More than I’m going to admit to his fucking face.
It’s not my fault he’s my favorite player to watch!
It’s his!
He shouldn’t be so goddamn good at what he does!
“Can you just,” my hand gestures to the bed, “give me a blanket and pillow and I’ll fuck off by the window so you can go back to word banging Candy or Cherry or Cinnamon or whatever mountain bunny fell for your bullshit pregame.”
“I have never actually slept with a Cherry.”
Curiosity – unfortunately – gets the better of me. “But you’ve wheeled a Cinnamon?!”
“Both a C-y and an S-y.”
“Both strippers?”
“C-y teaches horseback riding classes at Wilson’s Horse Ranch in Middlebrook, which is right outside of Highland, and S-y sells homemade soap at craft fairs in Sunshine Bend.”
Amazement brazenly battles appalment for the right to be seen.
“Why do you care who I wheel?”
“I don’t.”
“Yet you clearly do.”
“I really don’t.”
“That’s why all you’ve done since you’ve been in my room is interrogate me about it?”
“You’re,” the remainder of the sentence gets contorted behind gritted teeth until I force them apart to spew, “such a fucking pylon.”
His head shaking irks me more than the accusation. “And you’re such a fucking pest.”
“One of the best.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“Sounded like one coming from one.”
“Why do you do that?” he grunts in obvious annoyance. “Why do you deflect? Why do you refuse to have a real bloody conversation with me?!”
“Why do you keep wanting to have one?!”
“Why do you keep not wanting to have one?!”
“Why are you yelling?!”
“Why are you yelling?!”
“Because you’re yelling!”
“I’m yelling because you’re yelling!”
Our mutual conclusion regarding the escalation of the situation pushes me to lower my volume to something far below game announcers, “Can you please toss me a blanket and pillow? I wanna crash.”
“You can crash beside me in the bed.”
My arms defiantly fold across my chest. “ Fuck no. ”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not sleeping with you!”
“How is falling asleep together side by side on some hotel bed really any bloody different than when we fall asleep together side by side on your lumpy couch?”
“First off, my couch isn’t lumpy.”
“It is like lounging on a pile of mashed potatoes from color to consistency.”
“Second off,” another small glare is delivered, “falling asleep with you on it, is never something planned, it just sort of happens.”
“Perhaps for you . Bear and I both know if the bread consumption outweighs the vegetable one, a nappie transitions from being a possibility to probability in point twelve seconds.”
“And lastly ,” hiding the hint of mirth he’s scraped up is more difficult than it should be, “that shit hasn’t happened in over two weeks …” This time keeping my feelings out of my tone can’t be done. “And is likely to never happen again because someone stopped coming over to do that without even bothering to tell me why .”
“You know why.”
“Obviously I fucking don’t.”
“How can you not know?”
“Maybe because your Tom Hardly ass hasn’t told me!”
“I don’t need to tell you shit, Arden!” His body unexpectedly propels itself onto his feet. “You’re the one who went out with her ex-boyfriend while you’re dating me !” My jaw barely has the opportunity to crack open before he’s barking again. “ You’re the one who didn’t bother fucking telling me we weren’t bloody exclusive!”
“We’re not dating!”
“We’re not, not dating!”
“Look, I know better English is your second language or whatever, but you have got to know that sentence doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
“Giving you a double negative tends to have better results than practical conversing.”
That’s not true.
Or like…I don’t think that’s true.
I mean…it’s probably not true.
Although…is it not not true.
Shit.
“Arden, no matter how much you want to be and think of yourself as one, you are not just one of the boys to me.”
“I am not not one!”
“We dine together.”
“You were just eating with Peck!”
“We binge films together.”
“You and Cap took his kid to see a movie last week! It even made a family friendly headline!”
“We try new shit together.”
“Didn’t you and Potato try cardoon smoothies just yesterday?!”
“We walk Bear together post games-”
“You…need…the…stretching.”
“We run Bear together pre-pracky.”
“You…want…the…extra…cardio.”
“You wash my pracky gear.”
“I don’t want you to smell like cheap hot sauce and feet at work!”
“And you think Groffee would wash my pracky gear?”
“I’m not even sure Groffee washes his own pracky grear.”
“How about the fact that I learned to cook Father’s famous chicken tortilla soup. For. You. ” His entire frame cranes slightly forward. “And then I kept learning to cook different dishes. For. You. ” An irresistibly sweet smile graces his face. “ For. Us. ” He slides his hands into his sweats’ pockets. “You honestly feel as though I would do that shit for the boys?”
Okay, no.
Maybe…not that.
“The only reason you believe we are not dating is because we’re not banging-”
“Which is the only fucking thing you actually want from me anyway!”
“Honest to Gretzky truth, babe, if it was just about sleeping with you, I would’ve buggered off by now. There are much less labor-intensive ways to get laid.”
“Then what is it about, Tanner?” leaks free in a whine. “Why are you so nice to me?! Why do you buy me little things?! Why do you wanna hang around me so much?!”
“ I like you. ” His shoulder bounces in what can only be described as defeat. “I am not sure how to make that any bloody clearer.”
“I…” my skin suddenly feels uncomfortable to be in, “thought you were just…saying that…to…sleep with me or whatever.”
“I want to sleep with you yes ; however, I also happen to really fucking like you.”
“Then why did you stop coming over?!”
“Why did you go out with another guy?!”
“I didn’t!”
Disbelief crinkles his brow. “What?”
“I didn’t go out with Layvon.” Holding his gaze hostage is effortless. “I was actually trying to tell you he asked, but I said no when you went all Prince of Sleeze on me.”
For the first time since the conversation began, he’s left speechless.
“Yeah,” comes out in a cocky, snarky snip at the same time I stomp a tad closer. “That’s right, fuckface. I was gonna tell you that our plans…our… whatever thing …was more important to me than even considering eating in the same building as some tiny dick fuckboy that has to do well on the ice because he damn sure doesn’t in bed.”
His mouth twitches again.
“ I was gonna tell you that I couldn’t wait to try the apple BBQ sauce wings you kept fucking raving about on the plane because apparently Applecourt has the best goddamn apples on the planet, which is where A2 gets their best apples from.”
An almost bashful beam is presented. “You actually listen to me?”
“Of course I listen to you, James Fraud! I listen to you about everything! It’s how I know 3P is coming out with that new extreme stick handling aid that’s made for travel! How I know that Wiley wants to retire after this season to take a job working for Wilcox Enterprises in their party planning division-”
“Event planning.”
“And how I know that The King was closer to Shakespeare’s version of events than that of actual history!”
“Alright,” amusement flounces through his tone, “so you really listen to me.”
“I do!” Another stomp closer occurs. “I really fucking do, Tanner! I see you! I hear you! I’m there for you!”
“ Why ?”
My mouth moves to make the obvious confession, yet I keep the words at bay.
“Because you like me, correct?”
Less now.
“That’s why you’re pissed I haven’t been around.” His frame inches more into my space prompting me to slightly retreat. “That’s why you were pissed when you thought I went out with someone else.”
“You did!”
“ I didn’t ,” he quietly professes. “ I couldn’t. ” My back hits the nearby wall. “ I wouldn’t. ” The instant I’m there both of his palms brace themselves on it to trap me in. “ You are the only person I wanna be with Arden Hoss. Why won’t you just bloody accept that? ”
“Because you banged my sister!”
“Because I thought she was you!”
It’s my turn to be startled speechless.
“The only reason I was anywhere fucking near her was because I thought she was you! ” His face leans forward to ensure my gaze remains attached to his. “You’re practically identical and when you’re as fucked up as I was at that party, it’s fucking impossible to see the differences I have no problem spotting when I’m not so bloody hammered that I’m betting my car during a beer pong tourney!”
“You bet Lucilla?” escapes just above a whisper.
“Yes, and thankfully, Becks has terrible aim when he’s on a multiday bender.”
The urge to ask about his lingering substance issues – even now that he’s not playing – isn’t given time to grow into more.
“I never wanted to nor intended to sleep with Audrey, and if you don’t bloody believe me – because you never do – ask her. Ask her whose body I was endlessly praising.”
Weakness wobbles my knees.
“Ask her whose name I was fucking calling out from start to finish.”
An inability to breathe suddenly takes over.
“Ask her whose name I was saying when I was bloody begging for more.”
Not smashing my lips against his is impossible.
And so is not whimpering when his mouth aggressively spreads mine apart.
Slips his tongue inside.
Strokes it obsessively and frantically like a beast blinded by hunger.
Fervor.
Fear.
Fear that this isn’t real.
Fear that this isn’t happening.
Fear that it’s all going to end the second he pulls back, which leads to him doing the opposite.
Tanner roughly whips his tongue around mine at the same time he yanks me away from the wall by the edge of my shirt to grant him access to my ass.
Cupping one cheek instantly transitions into palming both, an action that barely precedes him lifting me up.
Kissing me harder.
Groaning and gripping and groaning again as his tongue fights for dominance while I struggle harder and harder to simply survive the overwhelming, endless lashes.
Our frames go from standing to stretched out on the mattress in what feels like the blink of an eye.
Being on top allows me the opportunity to sit up and grab a much-needed breath, yet having him instantaneously follow suit to yank up my t-shirt and slip my nipple into his mouth interrupts the process, forcing me to whimper instead.
“ Such a pretty sound ,” he compliments prior to moving to the other side. “ And such pretty ink… ”
The reference to my hockey sticks heart tattoo on the top of my tit – that’s usually covered by most of my clothing outside of swimwear – heats my cheeks.
Flutters something in my stomach.
Tempts me into looking away.
Wiggle elsewhere.
“ I love that you love what I love. ” His tongue lazily whirls around the nearest nipple. “ I love that you’re not afraid to love what you love. ”
He grazes the wet peek with his teeth eliciting an airy cry, “ Tanner… ”
“ Lafleurhavemercy, ” rattles the male underneath me, teeth teasing the hardened nub once more, “ say my name again… ” Blue eyes I hate myself for having fantasized being underneath me as often as I have longingly peer up. “ Please. Arden. ” The tip of his tongue takes a single lick. “ Say my name again. ”
Rather than give him exactly what he wants, I rip off my t-shirt.
Lean slightly backwards.
Cock a sassy smirk and state, “ Earn it, twenty-eight. ”
The growl that escapes is possessive.
Primal.
“ You want me to fucking earn it, Ducky? ” Scooting us to the very edge of the bed occurs next. “ Give me two on the PP. ”
I latch my palms onto his t-shirt covered shoulders. “ Clocks ticking, Frosky. ”
“ No ,” he definitively grunts, fingers skating along my spine towards my ass. “ You call me twenty-eight or Tanner when you’re in my bed. ” The digit doesn’t stop gliding until it’s inside my shorts, gently nudging at my smooth pussy from the back. “ Or on my cock. ” To my surprise, he doesn’t shove it deeper or harder, he simply continues light, teasing pushes. “ Understood? ”
“ Understood ,” I quietly concede on a small rocking of my hips.
“Look at that,” he taunts during another faint nudge inward. “You can follow a play.”
“That PP clock is running.” Craning my face towards his is accompanied by a crooked grin. “And it doesn’t look like you’ll be scoring any time so-” Tanner’s finger suddenly curls causing my back to the do the same, “ Ohmyg- ”
“ What did I just say, Arden? ” Fingers from his free hand forcefully wind themselves around my throat. “ My name. ” The pressure remains yet the speed slightly increases. “ Or my fucking number when you’re on my cock. ” I thoughtlessly moan my understanding and rock back against his finger in desperation for more only to be met by his grasp tightening hard enough to bruise my neck. “ UFC rules, babe. ” Tanner maintains his hold. “ Tap out if it gets too much. ” His forehead lightly leans against mine. “ Clear? ”
There’s barely enough room to nod but I do.
“ Very well then… ” A deliciously torturous lick lands against my lips. “ Eyes on me, Slayer. ”
Between the branding I’d never envisioned I’d wear and the delectable clasp I’m being controlled by, I’m not entirely sure I can keep them from rolling into the back of my head.
And once the finger lingering inside begins to shallowly thrust, grinding me against his swollen shaft, forcing the fabric of my shorts to caress my clit, it becomes the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my entire life.
Including resisting this stud to begin with.
Through hooded vision I watch him watch me.
Get lost in the tumultuous motions.
Succumb to steady stroke after stroke after stroke of sensitive muscles that haven’t been touched by someone else in far too long.
Clenching at my neck mimics the ones my pussy is delivering below, creating a carnal cycle of clutching and choking that has my nails anxiously scraping at his shoulders.
Pecks.
Shoulders again as I mindlessly whimper, “ Close… ”
Tanner amps up the pushing.
The pressure.
Tugs me the length of his dick while tightening his hold to the point my breaths turn mind spinningly shallow and my shoulders sag and heavenly shivers shoot uncontrollably throughout my system.
“ So ,” can barely be formed, “ close… ”
Pleased grumbles precede faint panting, although I’m not entirely sure if it’s him.
Or me.
Or both.
Clamping on his finger shifts from constant to ceaseless prompting me to purr, “ I’m gonna- ”
The abrupt removal of his digit and denial are done in one fluid execution. “ No. ”
A squeak of objection is the most I can conjure up – partially because his hand is around my throat and partially because my brain is orgasmic mush.
“ Up ,” instructs Tanner in tandem with assisting me to my feet. “ Take me out. ”
Reluctance is non-existence.
Reaching for the waistband of his sweats requires me to choke myself proving I truly trust him.
Trust that he’ll never hurt me.
Trust that he’ll keep me safe.
Trust that he’ll please me if I simply do my part and let him.
“ You look so fucking gorgeous in my silky mitt, babe ,” Tanner praises while I hastily work the article downward. “ You belong here. ”
Aching between my thighs is mirrored in my chest, although ignoring it for the one I know I’m seconds from dulling is easily done.
The instant his dick is free enough for the taking, he sits back on the edge of the bed, yanks my shorts aside, and slams me down on top, lips knocking against the shell of the ear that bares my aid. “ The first time you come is gonna be on my cock, Arden. ” Whatever argument I can possibly consider is immediately erased by a heavy heave. “ And so will the next. ”
Another sharp thrust inside completely shatters whatever resolve I had managed to regain on a body shaking, orgasmic scream. “ Tannnnnneeeerrrr! ”
“ Such a fucking beauty, babe ,” Tanner gravelly growls, lower half continuing to pound as my pussy perpetually pulsates. “ I’m gonna light that fucking lamp again. ”
Being mercilessly pinned in place by the hand around my throat and the other on my ass leaves me with no other choice than to succumb to the savagery sandwiching my body.
To simply dig my nails into his sides.
Clutch onto his t-shirt for leverage.
Frantic pump after pump is matched by ferocious pull on top of pull, shutting down my ability to think.
Speak.
Not that I need to do either.
Harsher squeezes appear between harder hammering; however, the less air I receive the more incredible everything feels.
It’s as though losing one ability amplifies all the others.
Burning in my lungs mirrors the tingling in my thighs and curled toes and tight pussy that’s already teetering on the brink of a second orgasm, yet when given the opportunity to provide them with the tiniest gasp of reprieve, Tanner robs me of it by nudging the edge of his finger against the rim of my back hole, igniting an eruption of orgasmic roars in every nerve ending I possess. “ Cooooominnnggggg! ”
“ I want that hattie, Slayer, ” he greedily grunts next to my device, balls barbarically banging against my ass, bathing in the sweltering juices that seem to never stop coming. “ And I’m not ending my bloody shift until I get it. ”
Throaty, sabulous whimpers are all I’m able to offer as my body is relentlessly bounced into more pounding that has the damp fabric of my shorts repeatedly stroking my clit.
Caressing it with pressure.
Pleasure.
Fervor.
Frenetically rubbing it while Tanner’s cock frantically strokes my deepest depths determined to get what he wants.
To prove he’s a man of his word.
That I can trust what he says.
“ Balls deep, Arden, ” is grunted alongside sloppier slams. “ I wanna spend this whole fucking season balls deep in you. ”
Ignoring the way my pussy and chest tighten in unison is impossible.
“ Fuck that, ” he hisses, shaft noticeably swelling, “ I’m going to. ”
Wetness drowns his dick.
Soaks his nuts.
Trickles towards the floor.
“ You’re mine, ” Tanner selfishly states at the same time he cuts off all air. “ And I’m yours. ”
Despite the inability to actually scream, I make the motion anyway, snapping my head back the tiniest fraction it can go and voicelessly screech his name to the same incessant speed my pussy in quaking.
“ And that’s regulation, Slayer, ” he happily grumbles while scorching ropes of cum begin splashing against my throbbing muscles. “ Get ready for OT… ”