The Secret Hook-Up

If you’d told me the best date of my life would be crashed by all of my players while the man I’m sort of seeing took it all in stride like he had no idea that my heart was pounding in equal parts joy and terror for most of the afternoon, I wouldn’t have believed you.

I taught myself over a decade ago to not rely on a man for happiness, and when I slipped and let Duncan in only to have him walk away four years ago, I thought I’d learned my lesson.

But every moment I spend with him now, every moment I talk with him on the phone or text him while I’m gone, I’m falling harder and harder.

And I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

What’s the very worst thing that happens if you let him in again? Waverly asked me when we were in LA.

I can think of a thousand terrible things.

He breaks my heart again.

We adopt a dog together and he takes the dog when we break up.

We decide to have kids together and things are hard when we break up.

But every single answer to what’s the very worst thing that happens is we break up and I move on.

It’s not I sacrifice my happiness for his in the hopes of making it last.

I hurt for a little bit, and then I move on. I remember the good times. I regret the bad times. And I move on.

And what’s the best thing that can happen? she asked me.

He makes me see the world in brighter colors and takes me to new highs and is there holding my hand during my lowest lows. And I make his world brighter and take him to new highs and I’m there holding his hand during his lowest lows.

Inviting him up to my apartment after our date is the most natural thing in the world.

Even though it’s gorgeous outside—no risk of thunderstorms breaking the elevator—we take the stairs.

“I’m getting a dog when I retire,” Duncan tells me as we climb.

“Like Doc Rover?” I ask.

“Like something that can devour the kitten of death.”

I slip my hand into his and squeeze. “I meant it when I said I’d make my players run extra on the treadmill. I’d absolutely do that for you. Four kittens of death for a guy who was eaten alive by his housecats in a former life is extreme.”

“You had fun?”

“I pretended they were all women.”

His laughter echoes through the stairwell.

I squeeze his hand again. “I had fun. Thank you. Did you have fun?”

“I was with you.”

“I’ve lived with myself for over thirty years, and I can assure you, that does not sound like the regular definition of fun to me.”

“You clearly don’t know yourself very well.”

I can be fun. But I can be not fun too. “Thank you for being such a good sport about my players crashing the entire room.”

“I don’t count the pitchers as your players. So they only crashed half the room.”

That cracks me up. “Fair enough.”

“The rest of them were fine. Besides, I know something they don’t.”

“Oh, god, what kind of horrible Thrusty prank did you set up?”

“Sorry, Coach. That one’s confidential.”

And it will likely be hilarious. “Probably for the best.”

“But that’s not what I know that they don’t,” Duncan adds.

I peer up at him, silently telling him to go on.

“They don’t know I still get you to myself for a few more minutes.”

A few more minutes. More like hours. I hope. “You have plans tonight?”

It’s his turn to watch me as we push through the doorway onto my floor. “Do you?”

“I didn’t.”

“You do now?”

My door is close to the stairwell. I pull out my key and unlock it before I answer.

And I don’t so much answer as I grab him by the shirt and haul him into my apartment. “Stay,” I whisper. “I want more plans with you tonight.”

His pupils dilate and his gaze dips to my mouth for the briefest moment before returning to my eyes. “To kick my ass some more in Croaking Creatures, or did you want me to do your dishes, or⁠—”

I wrap my arms around his neck and lift myself the barest amount on my toes to press my mouth to his.

And beyond a soft “Fuck, Addie, yes,” he stops talking.

Settles those big hands on my hips and pulls me closer. Angles his mouth to take charge of the kiss.

I don’t know if I’m pulling him deeper into my apartment or if he’s pushing me. The backs of my knees hit the couch, and I wrap myself tighter around him.

My shoulder hitches.

I adjust it but ignore the pain.

What is pain when Duncan’s tongue is slipping between my lips and touching mine?

My god.

I’ve missed this.

I’ve missed him.

He smells faintly like English breakfast tea, and his shirt is still crisp and smooth under my fingers. His five o’clock shadow is the finest sandpaper against my mouth, and the wall of muscles pressed against my chest is everything.

He makes me feel safe.

He makes me feel sexy.

He makes me feel loved.

It should be the most terrifying thought, but there’s nothing terrifying about trusting Duncan.

“Are you sure?” he says against my mouth.

“Only with you.”

His erection pulses against my belly while he tugs on my hair, pulling my head to one side. “I love being your only.”

His lips trace a line down the tendon in my exposed neck while his hands explore my ass. My heart is pounding. My nerves are buzzing. My clit aches.

I want him.

I want him naked and sweaty and talking dirty to me in my bed.

I want him quiet and relaxed with his head in my lap while we watch movies after a long day.

I want him smiling and laughing while we trade our favorite stories about pranks and mischief and our childhoods and families.

I don’t need him.

But I want him.

He peels the left side of my cardigan off my shoulder, following the fabric with his mouth while I make quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. His body radiates heat. I shiver at the skim of his fingertips against my arm as he gently pulls my cardigan all the way off, letting it drop to the floor, taking extra care with my left shoulder.

“Much better,” he murmurs. “I love your arms. They’re fucking gorgeous.”

Addie’s so big. It’s not feminine to have such broad shoulders. She should play the Beast.

“Say it again,” I whisper.

His fingers stroke down both of my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “You have the most incredible arms and I fucking adore them. And these collarbones… They drive me fucking mad.”

He nips at my right collarbone.

My breasts swell while my nipples tighten.

I believe him.

He thinks I’m sexy. Attractive. Beautiful, even.

My eyes burn. I distract myself by tugging his shirt out of his pants, then discard it the same way he removed my cardigan. Off one shoulder, then the other, until it falls to the ground. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

God, Addie.

The man makes me feel like the most stunning woman in the world, and my response is you’re not half bad?

“You’re a sexy beast, Duncan,” he intones into my neck.

I shiver. “You’re a s—sexy beast, Duncan.”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“With the best ass in hockey.”

I squeeze his ass. “That was never a question.”

“Say it.”

I rub my face against his as he continues kissing and licking and sucking at my neck. “You have the best ass in hockey.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I love the way you make me feel delicate when you’re holding me,” I whisper.

He’s bunching my dress in his hands, tugging it up inch by inch as he moves his mouth to my ear. “You’re goddamn perfect, Addie. Your strong parts and your soft parts and your stubborn parts and your vulnerable parts. So goddamn perfect.”

No, he is.

I don’t have the words, but I have something else. I can show him.

I tug at his undershirt, pulling it out of his pants, and then I tackle his belt.

He lifts my dress faster. “Slow and careful,” he says as I pause in stripping him to lift my arms.

The sundress comes off easier than the gown did a few weeks ago, and he’s so gentle, there’s no pain at all in my shoulder.

Once he has my dress on the floor, he strips out of his undershirt. I kiss him while he circles my ribcage with his large hands and I reach for his belt again.

“Mm, lace,” he whispers as he unhooks my bra. “I love your underwear.”

“I hate your pants.”

Though I do love the stiff hard-on behind them.

And I love the way he’s kissing me. Teasing my lips with his tongue. Being so very Duncan.

He’s smiling.

I can feel it against my mouth.

I win the battle with the belt, and the button and his zipper give way easily. I push his pants off his hips, boxers too, and then I have that thick, hot, hard cock in my hands.

“Fuck, Addie,” he groans as I squeeze and stroke.

“I missed you.”

His heavy-lidded gaze connects with mine. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.

You’ll never have to miss me again.

I want you.

I won’t give up on you again.

I’m all yours.

This time, my shiver comes from deep inside my soul.

But it’s not fear.

It’s anticipation.

“Duncan, I lied,” I whisper.

His gaze doesn’t waver. “About what?”

“Dates this good do come with blow jobs.”

His cock pulses in my hand while his eyes go impossibly darker. “Addie—” he starts, but I’m already on my knees.

“No arguing.” I lick the bead of moisture at his tip.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans.

I swirl my tongue around his plump head, and he makes an incoherent noise while his fingers grip my hair.

My breasts ache. My clit is hot and heavy. My vagina swells.

I cradle his balls while I seal my lips around his tip, then suck him deeper, my tongue rubbing the underside of his thick hard-on.

His incoherent noises make me want to stroke my own pussy. Driving him wild is driving me wild.

I suck and lick and take him deeper, then nearly slide off him, adjust and take him deeper again, until he grips my hair to the point of pain.

“Addie—” he pants.

I know what he’s going to say.

I’m about to come.

I suck him even deeper, until he hits the back of my throat. If he’s coming, then I⁠—

He grunts out a noise and pulls harder on my hair. “Not this time, baby.”

No other man in the world would get away with calling me baby.

But he follows it with, “When I come, I’m coming inside your pretty pussy,” and my clit tingles so hard at the order that I let his dick slide out of my mouth with a soft pop.

“Fuck me,” he pants.

“I’m trying to.”

He’s gorgeous. Neck straining, eyes squeezed shut, his rapid breath making that broad chest rise and fall, his thick, straining cock glistening with my saliva. He lifts me off my knees with one arm wrapped around my ribs and kisses me, swiping his tongue into my mouth for a deep, soul-searing kiss that has me lifting one leg around his hips, trying to feel that thick cock against my clit.

“Fuck, Addie,” he says again, gripping my ass and guiding my other leg around his hips until he’s holding me while I rub my clit against his erection.

He shuffles, and I freeze.

I’m too heavy.

I’m—

“Fucking shoes,” he mutters.

Negligent.

I’m negligent in failing to remove his shoes so he could step out of his pants.

He shuffles three more steps, and then the world shifts as he bends, pressing me into the couch.

His mouth leaves mine.

My panties leave my body.

And then he’s on top of me, all hard planes and thick muscles. “Tell me when your arm hurts.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” I’m gasping for breath. My vagina is empty and I don’t like it. My breasts ache.

He used to love to worship my breasts.

“Tell me if it does,” he orders.

“’Kay.”

“Good girl. Now spread your legs, because I cannot hold out one more second.”

I wrap my legs around his hips, and oh my god, how have I lived without this man?

He glides his thick length inside me, and my nerves erupt with joy with every inch, his cock parting my inner walls and rubbing my sensitive flesh and making me feel whole.

I wrap my left arm around him while he thrusts into me, fast and hard and deeper and deeper and so fucking good while I tilt my pelvis to ride along with him.

“You—heaven,” he gasps, holding me captive with his gaze.

“Missed—you,” I gasp back.

“God, Addie.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Best—ever. Fucking—gorgeous.”

The tears sting as my body clenches around his, a precursor to the massive wave of my climax that hits a moment later.

I squeeze my eyes shut and tighten my legs around his hips.

He groans and dips his head to the crook of my neck, stilling while his cock pulses hard inside me.

This.

This is what I want.

Ecstasy. Wild, frenzied, desperate ecstasy with a man who makes me feel more.

With a man I could love.

If I let myself.

If I take the leap.

“My god, you’re sexy,” he murmurs as his body sags against mine.

My vagina is still pulsating with the lingering aftershocks of my own orgasm, but my limbs are starting to relax too.

The tears, though?

Those aren’t going anywhere. “Thank you,” I manage to choke out.

He lifts his head.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

A single tear escapes and trickles down the side of my face.

He shifts, and then I feel his lips against the tear streak. “I’ve got you, Addie,” he whispers. “You’re safe. I swear to you, I won’t hurt you like that again.”

I believe him.

And it scares me, but what if he’s right?

What if he won’t hurt me?

I can’t speak, so instead, I nod.

He settles his head back into the crook of my neck. “I’ve got you,” he says again.

I suck in a shaky breath and lift a heavy arm to run my fingers through his short, thick, curly hair.

Tomorrow, I can say it back.

Today though, I’ll be the one who lets him take care of me.