Page 38 of Unrivaled Love (D.C. Renegades #2)

"Dang, no kidding. But Mallory and Rio Swanson make it work and his baseball schedule is just as busy as a hockey one. Plus your off seasons are opposite." Nat makes it sound so easy.

"Yeah, it's going to be tough being across the country from each other. The Swansons are at least in the same city."

"True. But that's what FaceTime is for!"

"True." I laugh and then Coach McEmbry walks in and claps for our attention.

"Alright ladies, let's get out there and get back into shape for the second half of the season."

I finish tying my laces, left first, then right, and make my way out onto the field.

Here we go.

***

"Thank you Larry," I say before hanging up. "Bryson! The delivery guys are here! "

My bed arrives today and it is the last part of the transformation.

Bryson has added so much life to my apartment since he arrived.

His presence alone has revitalized the place but all the additional touches have turned my apartment from a place I stay to a home.

It brings a sad smile to my face because it’s going to feel like he's still around after he leaves tomorrow.

"Kay!" he calls from the bedroom. "I just finished getting the mattress moved to the side."

I step into the bedroom that used to have plastic drawers for a dresser, stacks of books in the corner, and nothing on the walls.

Now there's a wide navy blue set of drawers with a lamp, a candle, and a picture of the two of us from the Christmas in July parade with the Stanley Cup in a frame.

By the window, a papasan chair Bryson remembered from my childhood bedroom and insisted on getting, sits between my new bookshelves.

There is one in the living room too with fewer books on it and more mementos. Bryson found my box of memorabilia in my closet and took some of the items out and put them on display.

Part of his HABs duty he tells me.

He leaves tomorrow and I'm not ready for him to go. A small part of me thought I'd be sick of him after so much time together. Instead I find myself thinking about him and wanting to call or text him the minute I'm on my way to practice.

I find myself racing home to him. Eating dinner with him every night is changing my very sense of self. What used to be about counting macros is now an enjoyable experience with laughter and smiles.

I ask about the boys and we talk about our books. Afterwards we clean up and then we move to the sofa to read or watch sports highlights.

When we tumble into bed I'm tired but never too tired to fool around. I wasn’t used to having him in my bed at first. It’s been an adjustment to sleep next to him.

But over the week he’s been here I’ve grown to love it.

His presence is comfortable and it makes me feel safe.

I don’t think I’m going to like sleeping alone again.

My team is off today so I'm home. We're going to get the bed set up and go out to lunch. Bryson wants to take me to a bookstore he found in the afternoon and then we'll make dinner together, maybe watch a movie, and go to bed.

His flight is early tomorrow and I said I'd drive him to the airport so we'll be up at 5:00 a.m. to get him there on time.

The more I think about dropping him off the tighter my chest gets. It is going to hurt tomorrow. I'm not ready.

But I don't have a choice.

I let the delivery guys in and stay in the kitchen, absentmindedly wiping the counter.

"Josie, great choice!" Bryson calls from the bedroom a few minutes later as I hear plastic sheeting get bunched up. "It looks so good."

I walk into the room and see the bed in place and yeah, now it looks like a real bedroom. "Oh yeah, wow, it looks great."

"Thanks guys,” Bryson says to the delivery men who are gathering up the empty cardboard boxes. He slides them a cash tip and with a clap on the shoulder walks them to the door. When he turns around, he waggles his eyebrows at me. "Wanna test it out?"

"You know I do!" I laugh as he starts walking me backwards into the bedroom.

"Alright babe, leggings off, and get up here." He says as he lays down on the pillow and tilts his chin up. I smile, strip, and straddle his hips. "Nope, higher." He says as he grips my ass and drags me forward.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, drop that sweet fucking pussy on my face before I spank you for not listening. "

Tingles spread through my body at his words. Bryson’s brown eyes lure me in and I lose myself in their depths. I lean down and whisper in his ear. "What if I want you to spank me?"

"Do you?"

"Maybe."

"Fucking hell, Jo." He grunts and then grips my ass so hard I fly forward. He lifts his head and connects with my pussy and my bones melt instantaneously as he starts with a long slow lick from bottom to top.

I grip the top of the headboard and chant his name with yesses and oh fucks alternating with his moans of appreciation.

His fingers start to tease my asshole and everything clenches. I can feel his smile against my skin and love that he pushes me.

Below me Bryson hums and the vibrations run through me. A light sweat breaks out across my skin and instinctively I grind down on his face a little deeper.

"Shit, Bryson, don't stop, I'm so close." I squeak out as my whole body starts to tense. Bryson slides his thumb into my vagina and another finger presses against my ass and I shatter.

Quakes rack my body and he doesn't relent. His fingers pulse into me and his mouth continues to devour my labia and tease my clit. It’s almost too much. There's too much sensation and I can't handle it. Slowly he lightens the pressure of his tongue on me and he slowly slides his hand down my thigh.

I sit back on his chest and look down at him. His face is red and wet and he looks ravenous. Like he could eat me out for another hour.

The thought makes my inner walls clench and I feel more of my arousal leak out of me.

"Fuck Jo, how are you feeling?"

"Me? Oh I'm just fine." I say as I slide off of him and lay down .

"Just fine?" He says as he rolls over and props up on an elbow. "I fucking rocked your world just now."

"Eh," I try to be casual about this but Bryson sees right through it.

"Oh. Fuck no, I'm a competitive asshole but no one can get you off like I can."

"MVP?"

"Man vs Pussy? Man wins." He grins as he gets to his knees.

"Oh my god, you're ridiculous." I laugh and he pushes my knees up towards my chest.

"Yeah but you love it." He kisses my thighs as he works his pants off with one hand.

"I do," I say and I'm not sure if he catches my meaning because he is sliding into me and throwing his head back. I scrape my nails down his sides and watch his nipples pucker.

"Shit Jo, you feel so good. I never wanna leave this bed. This tight perfect body. I don't want to leave you." He says as he leans over and holds himself above me on his elbows.

"I know Bryson, I know." And I lift my mouth to his. He tastes like me, and him, and hope, and pain. His frenzied movements to get undressed are replaced by slow and reverent worship of my body, of our connection.

The flecks of gold in his chocolate irises catch the light as he shifts above me and it makes his eyes sparkle. The grind of his hips into the cradle of mine drives me closer to another orgasm. But it's different from the others. This one I feel in my chest.

I shift my gaze and look past Bryson's head to the ceiling. Wishing we were under the stars like we were in Telluride.

This intensity between us is wild and it belongs outdoors. Maybe what we have isn't meant to be contained by apartment walls or city limits.

Maybe what we have is bigger .

Flashes of light cross my vision as we steadily climb together.

I brush some curls from his forehead and when our eyes connect again I feel him swell inside of me.

He dives down to kiss me and as he steals the air from my lungs with an all consuming kiss, my hormones respond.

I flex and relax almost simultaneously and tilt my hips up as my insides roll along Bryson’s cock.

There is no stopping the explosive and emotional orgasm consuming me.

"Heaven, this is heaven." Bryson says as he presses his forehead to mine and I feel him release inside of me.

He holds himself above me, strong and solid.

Finally, with a peck to my lips he pulls out and rolls over.

He drags me over so my head falls on his chest and my hand rests over his racing heart.

I'm going to miss him so much. A part of me wants to go back to hating him. To living a life unaware of what this feels like.

Because now I can't forget. I can't move on. I can't focus only on my sport. I know what it means to be loved by Bryson Svoboda and that rearranges my priorities.