Page 94 of Keep Me Close

Her mouth turns voracious as she maintains eye contact the entire time.

Less than thirty seconds later, I lose total control. As much as I want to close my eyes and enjoy the feel of her milking every last drop of cum from my body, I can’t bring myself to do it. I need to keep my gaze locked on her, watching every emotion as it crosses her expression.

My release seems to go on forever. It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever felt, and somehow, with Chey, I knew it would be.

As soon as I soften, she releases me. I tuck myself back into my boxers before reaching down to pull her into my arms. My hands rise to cup her face, one thumb brushing her cheek.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I say, voice low and still a bit uneven. “I hope you know that.”

Her eyes soften as I slip a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her skin.

“I can’t wait to see you in the suite tomorrow,” I admit. “Wearing my jersey.”

A slow smile lifts the corners of her lips.

“This isn’t fake for me, Chey. I’m not sure it ever was,” I blurt before I can stop myself.

She freezes, her eyes widening.

“There’s always been something between us.” I swallow down the nerves. “But I wasn’t ready before. I needed time to get my shit together enough to be the man you deserved.”

Her breath catches as her eyes turn shiny, and it gives me the strength to continue.

“But I am now,” I say. “I’m ready to stop pretending this is casual and to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”

I stand before her, stripped bare and exposed. And, if I’m being honest, terrified that she might not feel the same way. But there’s no part of me that wants to take it back. For the first time since this all began, I’m not hiding from what she means to me.

33

Cheyenne

The suite is already full when I arrive with Kia and Elody. For a second or two, I hesitate inside the doorway, my hand still wrapped around the handle like it’s possible to turn around and slip back out before anyone notices me.

My fingers curl into the oversized sleeve of Knox’s jersey, the fabric thick and warm against my skin, carrying the faintest trace of his cologne. It should calm me. Instead, it makes everything feel real in a way it didn’t before.

The glass wall overlooking the ice stretches from floor to ceiling, the arena lights bright enough to make everything feel sharp and electric. Between the hum of the crowd, the pulse of the music, and the echo of pucks snapping off sticks during warm-ups, it’s louder than I expected, even up here.

For a moment, I wonder if I stand out like a sore thumb in Knox’s jersey, surrounded by women who actually belong in this world. Significant others who fit seamlessly into this life and understand the unspoken rules of being tied to a professional athlete.

Before I can overthink my decision to attend, Rina spots me from across the suite.

Her face lights up, as if genuinely pleased to see me. “It’s about time you got here! We were so happy when Evelyn mentioned you’d be watching the game with us tonight.”

The warmth in her voice catches me off guard.

“Thanks for letting me join you,” I say, stepping more fully into the room. “I’m excited.”

Callie glances up from where she’s sitting near the front with a toddler on her lap. The little girl is wearing a tiny Railers hoodie, swinging her feet like she has too much energy for her small body to contain.

When one of the players skates past the glass, her face lights up.

“Da-Da!” she yells, her voice carrying even through the thick glass.

I have no idea if he can hear her, but he grins and lifts a hand in a quick wave as he passes by. There’s just something about a big, strong man turning into a total softie for his kid that melts my insides.

As soon as Callie’s gaze settles on me, a slow grin spreads across her face. “Repping Knox’s jersey, I see.”

Lilah laughs, leaning back against the couch. “I called it. These men like to lay their claim quickly.”