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EIGHT

BAILEY

“I can do this myself, you know,” I say with a contended sigh as Jett smooths the brush through my hair. We’ve been sitting in bed since we woke up, him pampering me as I pretend to resist.

“I know you can,” he replies, gathering my long locks in his hand and tugging gently to one side before kissing my neck. “But this is all part of what I like. Being a Pleasure Dom isn’t just about endless orgasms. It’s about making you feel good in all ways, both physically and emotionally. It turns me on to take care of you.”

I smile softly, nodding my head in understanding. I’ve heard lots of kinky stories from my friends, but this type of situation is completely new to me. I had no idea it was even a thing, and I have to admit that I’m curious about it.

Last night after Jett shook my entire world, forcing so many orgasms from me that I lost count, he fed me, cleaned me and whispered the sweetest praises into my ear as I gave in to my exhaustion and fell asleep in his arms. We didn’t really talk much about anything else, but I have several burning questions that I want answers to.

“Have you, umm…” I begin, trying to find the right words without setting myself up to be disappointed. “Have you done this with a lot of women?”

As soon as I say it, I want to take it back. I have no right to ask him that. What he’s done prior to that elevator ride isn’t my business. But I can’t help wishing that it was something more with me.

“I’ve had a few relationships where this type of dynamic was in play.” He sets the brush down, reaching around me and pulling my back tightly to his front. “But please don’t let that diminish what we did last night, or what we’ll continue to do if you consent to it. They were my girlfriends, and what we had worked for us at the time, but none of them could even hold a candle to the connection I feel to you. That was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, Bay.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “So I’m not like other girls? That’s what you’re saying?” It’s so cliché. I’m sure he’s been with beautiful women who knew exactly how to fall in line with the things he wanted from them. I have no idea what I’m doing. I live on my own and care for myself. It’s been over a year since I last had a boyfriend, and half that time since I’ve had sex. All my orgasms these days are self-delivered, and it’s usually just to tire me out so I can go to bed. What do I really know about handing all my pleasure—both physically and emotionally—to someone else ?

He hooks a finger under my chin, turning me so I’m looking into his eyes. They’re full of emotion, and it’s almost hard to believe that it’s only been three days since we reconnected. I feel like I know his soul. Like we were never separated at all. “There isn’t a single human being on this planet like you, Bailey Hart. You’re one of a kind. You’ve always been my favorite person.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to mine and I turn to curl up in his lap as he holds me. “How did we never find each other? You had my last name, but I wasn’t using it. I didn’t have yours, but it was plastered all over every sports magazine in the country. We missed out on so much. I hate that my parents didn’t try harder when I asked them to find you.”

He exhales a thoughtful sigh. “We were kids. Everything seemed to make sense at the time. It’s not like our parents were close enough to care about personal details, nor did they know the kind of friendship we had. While they were inside relaxing or working, we were hiding behind the birch tree, kissing and making plans to marry each other when we grew up. They couldn’t have understood what we meant to one another. Don’t blame them for that.”

“Aren’t you mad, though?” I ask. “You lost your mom and dad, Jett. And I wasn’t there to hold your hand or tell you it would be okay. You needed me and I didn’t know.” Tears spill down my cheeks and my heart breaks all over for that little boy. In this moment, I may be pissed at my parents for dismissing me when I asked them about his family, but I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to them. Even though he had his aunt, uncle and cousins, I’m sure there were times when he could’ve just used a friend. It kills me to know that there’s a possibility I could’ve eased even an ounce of his pain, but had no idea he needed me. I was living my happy, carefree life full of love and laughter, while he was twelve years old, grieving the loss of the most important people in his world. Even if I wasn’t in control of the situation, I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of him facing it all alone out of my head.

“You’re a good man, Jett James,” I say, pressing my forehead to his. “And I?—”

I’m cut off by a loud knock on the door. Part of me is grateful, because there’s so much going on in my head and heart right now, and although I’m sensing he’s on the same page, it’s probably wise to give it a little longer before we talk about any of it. This thing is moving so fast, but I lost him once. I’d be an idiot to leave any words unsaid after this week is over.

“I’ll get it,” he says, kissing my forehead and walking to the door. He swings it open to reveal a very tired-looking Dia with her puppy-dog of a husband standing not far behind.

“Mr. and Mrs. Davis,” Jett says with a smirk. “To what do we owe the pleas?—”

“Bailey, help,” Dia says, cutting him off as she blows right into the room and faceplants on the bed with a groan. Dalton trudges in behind her, plopping down in the chair and dragging his hands down his face. He looks exhausted, which makes sense since he was complaining yesterday how he sleeps like shit without his wife .

“Help with what?” I ask with a laugh as Jett slides back in behind me and picks up where he left off, working to get the knots out of my hair.

She flips over, squinting as though the light in the room is too much before looking my way and scrunching her eyebrows.

“He brushes your hair ?” she asks. “Oh my God, that is so cute I could puke. Dalton, how come you never brush my hair?”

He gives her an annoyed look. “Dia, I had your toes in my mouth two nights ago. Your dirty, sweaty I-walked-all-day-in-my-stilettos toes. Then, I put my tongue on other parts of you that haven’t seen a ray of sunshine since the day you were born, and I loved every fucking minute of it. Came so hard, I almost cried. So please don’t give me shit for not attempting to tame that mess ,” he says, waving at her hair. “I show my obsession for you in other ways.”

“You’re oversharing again,” she says before rolling my way. “Do you have any magic potions in your arsenal that can fix these eye bags? I feel like I got hit by a bus. Why do you look so good? And when did you leave?”

I laugh, standing from the bed and picking up my suitcase before hoisting it onto the mattress. I take out the caffeine serum, a jade roller and two disposable cold packs, making my way back over to Dia. “Angle your head toward the edge of the bed,” I instruct.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Dalton says quietly, and I hear Jett chuckle behind me. I scowl in his direction, and he winks with a cocky smirk that I simultaneously want to slap and sit on. If I wasn’t so sore from all the orgasms he gave me last night, I’d consider it.

I squeeze the cold packs, shaking them and setting them aside while they activate before applying the serum to her cheeks and rolling it outward. “I left after you all fell asleep. Knowing there was a nice, warm bed over here calling my name made it difficult not to.”

She laughs sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m sure it was the bed that had you excited to get back.”

I scoff, taking the cold packs and laying them over her eyes. I wish I had a third one for her mouth before she tells everyone how I couldn’t shut up about Jett last night. Thankfully, Dia is a girl’s girl. She knows the code.

“Keep those on there. You’ll look wide awake in no time,” I say, walking to the bathroom and washing my hands. As I reach for the towel that hangs on the wall, strong arms snake around me from behind.

“Fuck, you smell good,” Jett says, burying his nose into my hair. I turn, facing him with our lips only inches apart. I don’t even bother trying to stop the smile that blooms across my face at the way he looks at me. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him in the elevator. Now that I’m seeing him up close, his features have changed, but they’re all still so familiar. I’m definitely glad he knew it was me, because the thought of missing out on reconnecting with each other makes me sick to my stomach. I had no idea just how much I needed him in my life until I got him back.

I know I have a lot to think about. We both do. The more I replay what he said last night in my mind, the more twisted up I get over the future. On one hand, the thought of jumping into a relationship after such a short time is crazy. It’s reckless and we barely know each other as adults. Could we really make a long-distance relationship work after only getting a week together to see if we’d even be a good fit? On the other hand, I know I’m feeling a lot of big things—things I almost blurted out a few minutes ago in the heat of the moment while I was drunk on being close to him. But are they real? They couldn’t possibly be… right?

My head and heart are so far removed from one another right now, I’m not sure what the correct answer is. If I’m going with my logical brain, we can’t let this thing go past Sunday. He lives in Boston, I’m here in Florida and it’ll never work. If we rushed into a relationship so soon, every card would be stacked against us—including the way people would look at us like we were insane for thinking a childhood friendship could turn into lifelong happiness overnight after being apart for so long.

But if I follow my heart? I tell him how I feel—that even though it doesn’t seem real, it took me less than seventy-two hours to know I was falling for him. That now that he’s back in my life, I can’t imagine ever being without him…and that I’d be willing to risk everything for a shot at forever.

It’s just so confusing. And I don’t want to make the wrong decision.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, tilting my chin up with his fingers. “I can practically hear those wheels turning in your head. Talk to me, Bay. ”

I exhale a slow breath. “This is crazy, right?” I whisper. “What are we doing?”

He tightens his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I listen as his heart beats steadily, the rhythm calming my chaotic emotions.

“We’re doing what feels right,” he replies. “It wasn’t our fault we lost so many years together. It wasn’t anyone’s, really. But I promise you that if we hadn’t, and we got to experience all those summers with each other, we’d be right where we are at this very minute. With you in my arms and me knowing, without a doubt, that I’m the luckiest motherfucker in the world because of it. There’s not a chance in hell I’d have let you go if I had a choice, Bailey. You have to know that.”

“I do,” I reply, seeing the sincerity written across his face. “But we’re strangers, Jett. We’re not the same twelve-year-old kids that didn’t understand the real world. We’ve changed.”

He stands tall, still holding around my waist. I love the way he never wants to let me go. “You’re right. We’ve changed in a lot of ways. But at the end of the day, there’s a reason we crossed paths here. It’s not a coincidence that you were hired by my teammate’s wife on the one week I’d be in Tampa. It wasn’t an accident that we ended up in that elevator together. It was time for us, Bay. For us. Open your mind to whatever fate is trying to do here.”

I swallow thickly, tears filling my eyes. He’s right. One of those things could’ve been overlooked. But all of them happening exactly the way they have? That can’t be random .

“Okay,” I say in agreement. “We have four days left. We’ll just enjoy it for whatever it is and see what happens after the game.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, sliding his hands up to cradle my face as he lowers his mouth to mine. I moan into the kiss, and he slides his tongue across my lower lip, waiting for me to open before he plunges inside. Sparks explode behind my eyes as he steals my breath, and I realize that I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. Even the way he kisses me makes me feel so appreciated and cherished, like he’d move heaven and earth if I asked him to. It’s intense and scary, but I know I don’t want to let him go right now.

A throat clears behind me, and I jolt away from him, turning and smoothing my hair as though I can hide the fact that we just got caught making out.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dia says, standing in the bathroom doorway. “Dalton’s parents just texted from the lobby, so we have to run down and meet them. We’re still on for ten o’clock in my room. There’s a superfan event after lunchtime, and the girls and I want to pop in and surprise them since the guys will be at the practice facility. You should come with us.” She looks to Jett, then back to me with a smile as he wraps his arms around my waist and lowers his chin to my shoulder from behind.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he agrees. “It might be fun for you to see how wild those things can get. They’re a blast.”

I look over at him, furrowing my brows. “I’m not a WAG. They probably won’t even let me in. ”

“You look like a WAG to me,” Dia says, making Jett chuckle against my ear.

I roll my eyes, addressing her again. “Maybe,” I relent. “Let’s get you ready first, then I’ll see how I’m feeling about it.”

That perks her up. “Okay! We’re out of here. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

She leaves the room, dragging Dalton behind her as Jett spins me back around and lifts under my ass, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist before carrying me back to the bed. “Let’s finish brushing these crazy-ass knots out of your hair. Can’t have my girl meeting the Blizzard fans for the first time looking like a homeless person.” I slap at his shoulder and he laughs, pressing his lips to my neck before he begins smoothing the brush through my tresses again. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of being cared for, daydreaming about a future where things like this could happen every day.