The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance (11 page)

BOOK: The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance
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She swallowed hard, her lips opening and closing like she struggled for breath. The fisting of her hands in the cool bedsheets gave her away as well as the rosy complexion on her face. Hadn’t any of her prior lovers gotten her off like this? He let just the fingertip slide over her sensitive outer folds, and she sucked in a hard breath. This woman was going to come and come hard if it was the last thing he ever did.

He stroked one finger along her slit with expert care, feeling the heat, reveling in it. She tightened her legs and wiggled so he pushed up a little farther, entering her, feeling her inner walls tighten for him. Cole smiled, even though her eyelids had fluttered closed against his onslaught and sought her clit with his thumb as he moved within her.

He flicked it, intrinsically knowing her unique rhythm. He’d felt at one with this woman since their first encounter. Cole watched as her breath grew short and her spectacular breasts lifted toward him. Seeking. But for now – well, he couldn’t and wouldn’t wait to taste her. She was on the cliff, ready to fall and he wanted to taste that on his tongue.

Cole slithered down her flushed body and leaned in so he could touch his mouth to her. Eloise gasped and stiffened, her head falling to the side with clamped eyes. He waited until she opened her unique eyes, speared her with his own and brushed her tenderly with just the heat of his breath. Making her wait. Making her beg with the renewed thrashing of her body. Soon, she’d plead with her words. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue between her folds. She bucked underneath the pressure of his mouth.

He began to swirl his tongue over her engorged clit, delighting in her response. Shame on him for ever believing some asshats bullshit. They’d had blinding electricity between them since their first meeting. He should have known and he’d make it up to her. Now.

As he sucked the swollen bud deep in his mouth, he rubbed a thumb over her entrance, and then two fingers. The tips of them dipped inside her and she raised her hips in a frantic attempt to get closer. He chuckled at her frenzied motions, the humming causing her to moan on a heavy exhale. He slid his fingers all the way inside her tight heat and pumped them as he continued to lick and suck her.

“Cole, please …”

“Please, what?”

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.”

He couldn’t deny her fevered plea so he rose to his feet so he could dispense with his jeans and boxer briefs. El remained still on the bed, staring at him underneath her sooty eyelashes. Her eyes widened when he finally leaned over her.

“Inside me. Now.”

Cole positioned himself between her legs and drove home in one slick, delicious thrust. Stars appeared before his eyes. Holy mother of God. Her body was so tight around his cock, it felt vacuum sealed. Shit. He’d never felt anything like it. Slowly, Cole began to move. He’d had his eyes shut, but he wanted to look at Eloise. To witness the proof of pleasure on her face at their joining together in this unbelievable way. But instead of ecstasy, her eyes were filled with unshed tears. He stopped at once and waited until she met his gaze. Hers tortured and aching.

“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”

“Of course not,” she murmured, but the words popped out on a muffled sob. Cole Fiorino had made a woman cry when he was balls deep. This shit just didn’t happen to him. His heart pounded until she spoke again. “Please, don’t stop. It’s not what you think. I need this. I need you.”

Cole began to move again at her impassioned plea. The time for recriminations and explanations could come later. Whatever or whoever had burned a scar on her soul would be eradicated with the tenderness of his feelings for this woman. The one he was falling for with every breath in his body.

Reaching between them, Cole used his right thumb to stroke her clit until she closed her eyes again. A single, solitary tear ran in a rivulet down her face. He wanted so badly to swipe it away but he couldn’t do that and make her come at the same time. And an orgasm for her was far more important. It felt imperative.

The moment Cole felt her contract around him, his world exploded in a burst of color and sensation so overwhelming, he almost passed out. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him, and all he could do was gasp for air as they threatened to swallow him whole. He cried out El’s name on a roar of release. After a couple of ragged breaths, he collapsed beside her.

“Wow,” he said, his breathing and heart rate returning to normal. “That was spectacular.” He raised his head, a dreamy smile on his face. But her face was still awash with tears. Cole sighed and raised his hand to gently wipe them all away. “What’s wrong?”

Eloise winced and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing is not a word in a woman’s vocabulary. The word is actually
something
. You’re sad, and that makes me sad. If you didn’t already know, my toes just curled.”

“I’m not sad. It was spectacular for me too.” She managed a smile through her sniffles, a slight but very pathetic upward tug of her lips that more resembled a grimace. “Wait here. I need to use the bathroom, and I want to continue this conversation. You’re holding back, and I know just how to wheedle information from an unsuspecting woman.”

 

 

Chapter Twelve

Eloise watched his delectable naked ass disappear into the bathroom. So many thoughts crowded her brain, so many questions. She’d gone and cried at the beauty of the sensations he’d evoked, and now Cole was demanding answers. Like a naked come to Jesus meeting. But where to start? A chill passed over her, and she grabbed a corner of the duvet to draw it around herself, but the soft blanket did nothing to ease her fears. Eloise felt like she was unraveling in a tenuous string of emotion.

Cole bounded back into bed. “Now, where were we, woman? Crying is not for the bedroom.”

“Can I ask you something?” Eloise said, taking a fortifying breath.

“Sure. Anything.” He lay on his side next to her and brushed some strands of her hair away from her face. The tender gesture tugged at her heart. Cole was most likely the love ‘em and get the hell out kind and his willingness to stay and talk about an uncomfortable subject spoke volumes about his value system.

“What do hockey players want from a relationship?” she asked, calming herself so her shaky voice didn’t betray her. His answers meant the difference between staying and leaving. His answers meant
everything
.

He stuck his lip out, pondering the question. “That covers a lot of territory. I know there are some stereotypical misconceptions out there, but I can only tell you what I want from a relationship.”

“And that is?”

“Trust. Loyalty. High standards… not just in pastries,” he said, leaning in close and tapping her on the nose. “Someone who’d support my ideals and my career, I guess. Have my back no matter what. Someone I could be proud of.”

“Oh. What about children?”

“What about them?”

She exhaled in exasperation. “Do you want children someday?”

Cole propped himself up on his elbow. “Of course. As many as I can afford to support. I couldn’t disappoint an Italian grandmother-in-waiting.” He regarded her curiously. “Do you interrogate all your lovers after sex about their intentions? Good grief, Eloise, you’re as serious as a heart attack. Next time, remind me to get you more liquored up.”

She couldn’t laugh at his attempt to keep the mood light. Because it wasn’t. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, then popped them open again. “I don’t have a long list of lovers. Not like you do, I’m sure. Getting in my pants is a pretty exclusive club.”

He clucked his tongue. “There goes that stereotype thing I mentioned. Just because I play in the NHL doesn’t necessarily follow that I’m a man-whore. Where are you going with all these questions?”

“Cole, I want this to work, you and me, but I don’t want to disappoint you either.” She paused for breath. “I might not be able to have children because of an infection I had a long time ago.”

“Whoa, slow down pretty doughnut-lady. It’s a bit early to be worrying about all that, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “Better early than too late. If children are important to you… then maybe I’m not the girl for you. I can be your best one-night stand.”

“I think I’m capable of telling what girl is right for me,” he whispered, eyes narrowed with pain. “And for the record, I’ve never had a one-night stand. That’s not the way my mother raised me. I was brought up to respect woman and cherish them as partners.”

“And what about friends?” Eloise went on. “Are your friends important to you? The bro code and all that macho stuff?”

“Like I said, I value trust and loyalty. I expect those from everyone, not just friends and family. I’d even expect it from Sheehan Murphy, although after the meeting, I’m not sure he’s even capable.”

“Do you trust your friend Trey?”

He turned toward her and cupped her cheeks, sensing the gravity of her tone. “Yeah. Known him a long time. Why?”

“Did he say anything about me after the Town Hall?” she asked, eyes pooling with tears she couldn’t stop.

Cole looked puzzled. “Other than he liked the music festival idea, no. Why would he?”

Eloise squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of unwanted moisture. “Well, unless he’s a completely changed person, or was trying to spare your feelings, I guess he just didn’t recognize my name. Didn’t recognize
me
.”

“Eloise, why on earth would Trey recognize you?” his frustrated question pierced through to her heart. “Spit it out.”

Her eyelids opened and her teary green gaze locked with his intense blue one. “His name isn’t Trey. It’s Trevor. He went to my high school. In Columbus. We dated, and he… took advantage of me one night just before graduation. He moved away after that, and I never saw him again until tonight.”

Eloise met his gaze again. His eyes were such clear, azure depths. A smooth lagoon. She could get lost there. She could be found there. But she couldn’t bring herself to utter the word. The one that changed everything.

Rape.

Cole slipped his arms protectively around her. “I’m sorry. I can tell you’re upset, but wasn’t that quite a long time ago? If he’s forgotten it, maybe you should too.”

A heaving sob escaped. She needed to say one last thing before she could finally admit what had choked her for years. Held her hostage in an aching pool of shame and blame, swirling ever downward until she’d entered a black abyss. “So you’re defending him? Like my feelings don’t matter? You don’t know the whole story, Cole. There’s more.”

“Then tell me.”

“You’re asking me to tell you the biggest secret of my life. One that could destroy my career. Cole, I need you to promise on your mother’s life that you’ll never repeat what I’m about to tell you.”

“On my honor,” he said, raising a hand in the Boy Scout oath. “Or, don’t you think I have any because I slap a puck for a living?”

Eloise didn’t care for the angry turn the conversation had taken. Because it scared the living shit out of her. She shook her head and pushed forward.

“I had an abortion. My family never knew about it. Neither did Trevor. After the procedure, I contracted an infection, but I got over it. Then I moved out of state and buried myself in books. I came down with mono and missed a whole semester. That’s when my doctor told me there was bacterial scarring that might prevent me from having another baby. Ever.”

She wiped her eyes with the hem of the duvet cover and looked up at him. Cole’s face had gone ashen. “So now you know.”

He pulled her head into his chest and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Cole’s gentle presence calmed her until she nearly fell asleep. “I should go,” he said suddenly, jarring her awake.

“You don’t have to. You could stay,” she said, snuggling into him again.

“You’re exhausted, and we’ve got practice tomorrow.” He disentangled himself and went in search of his clothes on the floor.

Eloise watched him dress, savoring the sight of his muscled, athletic physique. He fished his phone out of his jean pocket and tapped the screen. “My ride will be here in a few minutes,” Cole said, returning the device to his pocket. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

Eloise sat up and reached for her shortie robe that lay on a chair near the bed. “You can wait here, it’s fine.” She donned the robe and tied the belt around her waist. When she turned around, Cole stared at her in a distant, distracted way. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worry snaking through her.

He chewed his lip, then shook his head as if to clear stray thoughts from it. “It’s nothing. You should rest, I’ll see myself out.”

“Cole,” she said, her voice thrumming with uncertainty, “there’s something you’re not saying. Please, we have to be honest with each other.”

He bowed his head, then glanced up again. “I’m no altar boy,” he confessed. “But I come from a very devout Catholic home. I’m real sorry for what happened to you and furious with Trey, but…” he broke off and looked at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze. “Abortion is against everything I was raised to believe. Life is precious, it’s a gift, no matter how it arrives.”

“I was raped,” Eloise said, becoming angry. “That changes the holy precept just a little, doesn’t it?”

Cole looked uncomfortable, almost stricken, his face paler than earlier. “I’ve gotta go. Goodnight, Eloise.”

He turned and left the bedroom. Eloise slumped to sit on the edge of the bed, her knees suddenly unable to support her weight. She heard the rustle of clothing as he retrieved his shoes and jacket, and the hollow slam of the door as it closed behind him.

Then all she heard was her sobs.

 

 

BOOK: The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance
4.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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