Page 17

Arden

I’ve never had anyone lick chocolate mousse off my nipples.

Or really anything off of me.

And more importantly, I’ve never had it done on my birthday.

Actually.

I’ve never had me done on my birthday.

So major dub here.

Tanner’s offhand fingers avariciously flex around my neck to keep my backside pinned down with my stretched-out arm out of the way at the same time his tongue ravenously swirls around the hardened little nub in his mouth – the hardened nub he’s practically pretzeling his head to reach – determined to bathe it clean of the chocolate mess he made.

Choked whimpers cause him to grin against my sticky skin.

Abandon his hold on my tit.

Bury it between my legs.

Stiffen his digits so that each ferocious pound forces me to fuck his palm while he fucks my pussy.

Every buck is barbaric, accompanied by crazed grunts against my ear that send shivers down my spine and hips and thighs to my toes, which continuously curl as though they’ve learned to spell his name in sign language.

Unrelentingly, my head jerks, knocking into his, anxious for air yet so thankful not to have it.

The burning in my chest grows more and more delectable to the same deliciously delirious rate that his dick dives.

My jaw repeatedly bobs in tandem with my ass bouncing into the inhumane heaving.

Croaks are mimicked by clamping around his cock and clamping around his cock is mirrored by my nails feverishly clawing at his arm for more .

Less.

Mercy .

Savagery.

Drool thoughtlessly dribbles past the corner of my mouth only to be leisurely lapped up and praised, “ Such a fucking beauty, birthday girl… ”

Waves of wetness tenaciously worship his shaft that’s ceaselessly sliding in and out.

Carving his name into the one place it undeniably belongs.

Has always belonged.

“ You ready for me to snow this pretty little pussy? ”

The purred question prompts my drenched muscles to thrum.

Body to tremble.

“ To put your own point on the board? ”

There’s no stopping my eyes from rolling back into my head.

My hips from faltering.

“ You wanna light my fucking lamp, Slayer? ”

I whimper out the response despite the tight grasp blocking most of the sound, “ Yes. ”

“ Then work for it. ” Teeth scrapes are executed along the shell of my ear. “ Show me why you belong on my cock. ”

Determined and driven air-ridden moans mauling their way out of my chest precede me uninhibitedly throwing my entire frame into every thrust, forcing his dick to stay deep, refusing to let it feel anything other than my sopping wet pussy weeping for its overdue reward.

“ Fuckkkkk ,” leaves my boyfriend in a low, animalistic grumble alongside more staggered strokes. Faster pops of my lower half are met by more frantic hammering from him, filling the room with a bawdy soundtrack of wet ball slaps and unruly rumbles until the heavenly inevitable is ultimately reached. “ Fuck, Arden! ”

Yelling my name as torrid torrents tangle with my own blissful pulsations simply encourages me to keep rocking.

Keep riding the orgasmic wave that’s feeding scrumptious heat to every starving cell in my body.

“ You’re such a fucking beauty taking all my cum like this, ” Tanner pants, grip around my throat finally loosening. “ Don’t spill a goddamn drop. ” Pleased hums and licks are littered across the space closest to him. “ I want you to drip it all over my tongue. ”

The jaw dropping declaration is immediately executed.

One minute I’m on my side and the next I’m on my back.

Legs swung over his shoulders.

Heels needily kicking him in the back as he lazily laps up the filthy mixture we just made.

One swirl flows into two.

Two transitions into three.

And three becomes four and five and six while each set of my fingertips latch onto our separate locks eager to tug them in tandem.

My eyes squeeze shut at the same time my back begins to arch on a hoarse howling of his number, “ Twenty-ei- ”

“Happy birthday!” abruptly exclaims a feminine voice I wasn’t expecting to hear.

At least not now.

You know.

With my boyfriend’s face between my legs!

“Mom!” is squawked during my blanket grabbing scrambling.

“Mom?!” echoes Tanner while trying to snatch it away from me to cover his chest.

“What are you doing?!” I slap his hand, forcing him to relinquish his hold. “Why are you trying to cover your tits?!” Moving the blanket to hide mine is done on a juvenile glare. “You don’t even have any!”

“Cock!” he shouts back in a fluster, a secondary effort being made to shield himself again. “Bloodyhell, Ducky! I’m trying to cover my cock!”

“ Please do! ” shouts my dad from the other room. “ Please don’t have your balls or tits hanging out at breakfast! ” The shortest pause in the history of pauses is taken. “ Gracias! ”

Mom briefly shuts her eyes, shakes her head in amusement, and sighs, “We’ll see you two out there in a minute.”

Shutting my dark, double arched doors with her on the other side leaves us alone to sharply turn to one another and enter into an exasperated, hushed conversation with him at the helm, “ Did you know they were coming?! ”

“Do you honestly think I would’ve been screaming like a fan in a sold-out crowd if I had?!” I hiss as I slide off the side of my low to the ground, four poster bed.

Tanner doesn’t hesitate to shoot me an arrogant beam. “Pretty sure you were screaming louder than that.”

“I can never scream again,” is thrown back before snatching his tan sweater from last night off the floor. “How does that sound?”

“Like I am being punished for using my silky mitts rather than praised .” The playful pout is presented between dressing actions. “You know I’m like Bear. I prefer positive reinforcement.” He reaches for his boxer briefs on a puzzled hum. “And speaking of my four-legged adopted child…”

There’s no stopping the grin that grows from the choice phrasing; however, I can hide it.

And do by letting my attention fall to the ground so that my messy hair blocks my face.

“Where was the warning of intruders?!”

The question summons my stare back to his. “They’re not introducers. They’re his grandparents.”

“Fair…however, a little bark, bark you are not alone, would have been useful.” His smile shifts into another obnoxiously arrogant one. “Then again, who is to say he didn’t try, yet was drowned out by your screaming.”

“I will drown you in whatever breakfast beverage is waiting for me in the other room.”

Chuckles escape prior to him inquiring, “Do I have any clean gear since someone is wearing my shirt from last night?”

Pointing to the dresser that’s housing a couple of his battling warrior figurines is effortless. “Bottom drawer.”

Tanner swiftly relocates to the area while I shimmy on the shorts I was wearing when Joey popped by last night. Just as they’re secured in place, he swoons, “I love that you gave me my own drawer.” Our eyes lock once more. “And I love this The Knights shirt you snuck in here.” Removing the black t-shirt that’s a riff on The Beatles crossing Abbey Road featuring King Arthur’s crew instead is done next. “You thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“I thought you wouldn’t care.”

“Why wouldn’t I care?”

“Because it wasn’t like a big…deal…or…whatever.” I grab a hair tie from my nightstand, accidentally bumping into a crossword booklet. “Just a…um…I saw this and thought of you type of thing.” Running my fingers up the back of my hair occurs next. “Kind of like you buying me duck socks.”

Which he does now.

Constantly.

It’s the weirdest, most random, super romantic thing.

I’m pretty sure I have some in every color.

“Those are for luck .” Tanner prepares to slide on the random, late-night splurge buy. “And obviously it’s working considering I have scored every game that you’ve worn a pair to.”

Ugh.

It’s true.

And because hockey fans are extremely superstitious – much like the players – it’s totally become my ritch to put on some.

“Seriously?” He mirthfully sighs rather than sliding on the shirt. “You drew a dick on the tag ?”

Giggles are attached to me dropping my hands onto my hips. “You had to know it was yours, aye.”

“My dick is bigger than this,” he chirps back, finally pulling it on. “Ohhhh…you meant I had to know this was my shirt and not yours, yes?” Snatching up sweats precedes him playfully kicking his chin to the one I’m wearing. “That’s why you’ve got on my other one. You didn’t know it was mine because there wasn’t a dick drawn somewhere on it.”

“ Precisely. ”

Blowing him a cocky kiss receives another round of laughs from both of us.

Afterward, we quickly brush our teeth, steal an actual kiss, and rush out to the kitchen area where my parents are patiently waiting with Bear who has his face nestled lovingly in the lap of my dad enjoying fruit and ear scratches.

“Is it his birthday or mine?” I good-naturedly goad upon entering the room.

Bear doesn’t even bother tossing me a look.

He simply opens his mouth for another treat like the spoiled pup he is.

“We were just doing a little bonding.” Dad feeds him another apple slice. “Keeping busy until you were done being busy.”

There’s no reluctance for red to coat my cheeks. “ Dad .”

“Relax, mi pequena rebelde. ” His amusement deepens the coloring. “You’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to do what grown women do.”

This cannot be happening.

“Especially in your own home.”

My dad is not actually giving me the sex talk in front of the dude I was just having sex with!

“With whoever you want to do it with.”

“ Dad ,” leaves me in an even more embarrassed nature.

At that, the blond male beside me crosses over and extends an open palm towards him. “I’m-”

“Frosky,” Dad states in a short, clipped tone during their shaking. “Drafted by Florida. Round two. Thirty-five. Traded to Camelot. Then Michigan. Then Texas as part of the rebuild. You lead the team in points, are about a dozen away from breaking the franchise record, and seven from being the highest scorer this season across the entire league.”

Their hands fall as Tanner stammers, “You’re uh…You’re a fan.”

“No.”

My mom and I flash matching mirth-filled cringes.

“However, I make it my business to know who had their tongue in my daughter’s mouth at midnight.”

“What?!” leaves us in unison.

Dad motions his head at Mom who turns the phone around to show the picture. “Someone captured these two-”

“Peck and his Slayer,” I inform in a mumble, arms folding protectively across my chest.

“-and you two just so happen to be cut off here in the background.” She places the device down on the table beside the grocery bags. “And the only reason I had any idea it was you is because of the meltdown text message your sister sent this morning – in response to ‘Happy Birthday’ – asking for confirmation that that wasn’t you, ” Mom gestures to me, “kissing you ,” she points to him, “because you would be sure to lose your job if it was.”

Is it just me or does that sound more like a threat than a concern?

“I – of course – took the appropriate PR approach of distract rather than deny, which seemed to appease her enough to get to the small birthday spa and brunch she was hosting.”

That fits the playbook.

She gets to celly with being pampered.

I get to celly by being scarred.

Ah, to be twins.

“I’m Charlotte, by the way,” Mom warmly introduces, hand extended for the taking. “And that’s Amedeo.”

“ Pleasure ,” he greets in return and offers Dad a polite nod. “ Sir. ”

Dad grunts, grabs another apple, and feeds it to my dog whose tail I don’t think has stopped wagging since we walked in.

I do my best to regain my composure. “As much fun as this awkward prom moment is-”

“You didn’t go to prom,” Dad interrupts.

“You didn’t go to prom?” Tanner croaks in disbelief. “ Seriously? ”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” I naturally brush off.

“It’s a pretty huge bloody deal.”

“Maybe if we were closer to sixteen instead of thirty .”

“It’s a pretty monumental moment in adolescence.”

“And you are a pretty monumental pain in the ass of adulthood.”

“Like prom, I am a memory maker.”

“Like not going, you are a character builder.”

“ Ya veo por qué te gusta, ” Dad chortles under his breath redirecting my glaring to him.

Not helping.

Him understanding why I love Tanner is not at all helpful!

“Why are you two here?” Correcting my tone is easier thought than done. “Not that I don’t want you here-”

“Sounds like you do not want them here,” teasingly murmurs my boyfriend.

“I’m about to unwant you here in two seconds.”

“ Tradition, ” Mom steers the explanation back on subject, “is a medieval movie – I’m thinking First Knight thanks to the young Sean Connery lookalike at Haworth’s party last night who kept trying to get a peak down my dress – ”

“Nice,” I casually comment.

“Her dress was,” Dad concurs, “that was not .”

“I love Sean Connery movies,” warmly informs Tanner.

“ And ,” Mom happily continues the conversation, “a birthday breakfast – or brunch depending on the time – with mimosas.”

“ Brewskies ,” Dad and I correct together.

“Adorable,” Tanner helplessly chortles.

“Get bent, Hamster Boy.”

“That’s a…name…” Dad grunts in obvious amusement.

“Not much worse than Ducky.”

Additional mirth meanders through his expression. “ He calls you Ducky? ”

“Why didn’t either of you call before you came?” I quirk a curious eyebrow. “Or text?”

“We did both,” Mom sassily replies. “And when you didn’t answer we thought we’d just surprise you by bringing things to you .”

“ Y aún así… we were the ones surprised,” Dad cheekily adds.

There isn’t time to chirp back courtesy of my boyfriend cooing, “I didn’t know you had a birthday tradition.”

Bashfulness instantaneously replaces bitchy. “I mean…yeah. It started when I was kid. They knew parties weren’t really my thing-”

“She slew footed a juggler one year,” Dad announces prior to snickering.

Not resisting the instinct to join him results in Tanner shaking his head. “ Such a fucking pest. ”

“I can be.” Another round of laughs arrives between statements. “ Anyways, my pretty, pretty princess DNA match would live it up at the New Year’s Eve party while the next morning, my slightly hungover parents-”

“More Amedeo than me,” Mom clarifies. “I can hold my booze.”

“I can too!” The instant we both toss him a sarcastic stare, he impishly amends, “ Excepto tequila. ”

“Which is understandable,” Tanner swiftly supports.

“They would always make or order us breakfast – depending on the severity of the aforementioned hangover – cuddle on the couch and watch something with me.”

“I will never admit to anyone other than those in this room that I can quote A Knight’s Tale in my sleep,” Dad announces on a two-palm surrender.

“She can do that too,” Tanner teasingly jabs a thumb in my direction.

I forgo a snarky retort to investigate an unfamiliar sight, “Is that new?”

“Yeah!” Dad excitedly explains. “You know I like to special order us something from Germany every year for your birthday, and this year, my contact picked us out a Schwarzbier or-”

“Black lager,” my boyfriend unexpectedly translates.

There’s no stopping Dad from cocking his head in curiosity. “You speak German?”

“ A tad .” He fingers display a tiny wedge. “One of the benefits of lacing up with mates from all around the world is unintentionally becoming a bit multilingual.”

“ I like that ,” approves the man I’m usually fairly happy to see.

“And I would like to know,” my voice takes a slightly more serious tone, “what that stack of papers hiding underneath the fruit platter is.”

Guilt glides through Mom’s gaze as she quietly admits, “We thought that maybe…it would be a good time…to… discuss… your replacement surgeon options.”

“Replacement surgeon?” my boyfriend unhappily inquires. “Why do you need a replacement surgeon?” Even considering a reply isn’t an option. “And why am I unaware?”

“Can we talk about this shit post food?” I unwind my arms and tuck the edges of his long sleeves into my palm. “Pretty sure I see stuff for a pancake showdown and the last thing I need is you throwing off my style.”

“My apologies,” escapes him in a confused state. “ What? ”

“Oh, they have a whole All Star competition thing anytime pancakes are to be made,” Mom casually explains as Dad collects the ingredients. “Who can flip them the highest-”

“ Me ,” is attached to a cocky finger point inward.

“Who has the best showmanship-”

“ Again me ,” hits their ears during my backing up towards the island where he’s unloading items.

“Who can fit the most silver dollars in their mouth-”

“I will be crowned king of that one,” Tanner declares and makes his way over to us.

“Don’t count your pollos before they’ve hatched, novato ,” Dad warns on a slam down of the pancake box mix. “That’s the one competition I always win.”

“Perhaps in the past when you did not have an adequate adversary,” my favorite player cockily declares while retrieving proper cookware.

“ Fuck you ,” juvenilely springs free.

“Not twice in front of us,” Mom playfully pokes.

“Mom!”

Loud laughs escape them all along with a tiny golf clap from Dad.

I love my parents.

I really do.

They don’t shy away from inappropriate jokes or topics or comments.

Sex isn’t a taboo subject.

It wasn’t even that when I was a teen.

Everything has always been open and honest and candid, which isn’t what most people expect especially from their parents; however, they were adamant about having things that way.

No, I didn’t call them for tips, but I wasn’t scared to ask about birth control.

Or condoms.

Or signs of an STI – that I knew my sister had.

Our open conversation also helped me be secure enough in a part of myself to understand I didn’t have to be ashamed of what I like and dislike or who or what I may be into unlike so many other people I’ve met.

People we were raised around.

I guess they didn’t want us to end up like their acquaintance’s children, and they didn’t wanna end up like those parents.

And they didn’t.

Sure, the identity stealer has occasionally had a close call or two with scandals over the years, but nothing like the broadskies she used to run with or the ones she still does.

Seriously.

How many times can you have a “sex tape leaked” before you decide to stop making them?

Or…I don’t know…just become a porn star?

Profit from them?

Getting things whipped together is my job during the pancake prelims and honestly, my second favorite part.

Eyeballing the right amount of water to add to the bowl full of premade mixture unfortunately barely precedes Tanner bringing back up the lost subject. “What happened with your original surgeon?”

I take the offered duck shaped wooden spoon and begin to whip. “He left the practice.”

“Why?”

“Because his fiancée was also his partner’s fiancée, but they each thought the other one had stopped seeing her, which turned into an even bigger nightmare when they found out that she was technically already married to one of their ex-patients who was suing for malpractice.”

“Bloodyhell!”

“Yeah,” Dad casually joins in, spraying the pan, “I’ve got connections to some of the best PI’s in the business.” He pauses to make threatening eye contact. “ Recuerda eso. ”

“That means ‘remember that’, correct?”

Intrigue crosses his face. “You also learned Spanish from your teammates?”

“I’ve picked up a few things living in Texas, although, admittedly, it was the choice of tone and context clues that gave it away.”

Laughter momentarily flutters through the space again before my boyfriend returns to investigating, “When did you discover all this?”

“Day before yesterday.” Stirring increases in speed. “And I wasn’t avoiding telling you. I just hadn’t yet.”

“Because?”

“Because you needed to keep your head in the game. You were still dealing with a bit of jetlag and then Becks drunkenly trashing your apartment and then the league record headlines and the LMC sponsored open skate and I just,” my stare stays planted in the bowl, “I didn’t wanna add to the stats, aye?”

“ Arden ,” Tanner creeps closer and commands, “ look at me. ”

Reluctantly, I do.

“ You are my Slayer ,” he gingerly declares, “and you matter … your stats matter to me more than a couple shite night’s sleep or broken freezer door or talks of me breaking records or your sister’s tea flavor interrogation in front of a barn full of fans.” His spatula free hand winds around the nape of my neck. “ Clearskies? ”

I begrudgingly nod.

“Very well then. Let’s get this skills test started, aye.” A loving stroke from his thumb is delivered. “I need to destroy your father to win his respect.”

“ Verdadero, ” Dad teasingly confirms. “One hundred percent.”

“Silver dollar eating contest coming up first it seems,” I jovially insist and scoot my way over to the burner to begin cooking them. “Get ready to fight for my love.”

“I didn’t need the extra motivation,” Tanner lightly chuckles, “however, I will most certainly use it.”

Surprise rips through my stare prompting me to focus on the cooking task at hand.

Okay.

So, we didn’t just say we loved each other for the first time.

But like…we didn’t not not say it.

Right?