“No tour bus?” I inquired. Usually, we’d travel in my personal sponsored team bus.
“They will be heading out, but you’ll be flown out first thing. They’ll bring your gear that night,” he said as if we weren’t only four hours away from Vegas. He adjusted his tie, and I grew worried. Something seemed off. “Go get ready, Coen. I’ll need you sharp,” he commanded of me.
I was always sharp.
“Sure thing, Rob.” I glowered, shuffling out the door.
When I arrived at Conor’s, his Lexus sat in the driveway. He wasn’t usually home this early. Making my way through the door, I noticed he had company. They were seated in the front room, glaring daggers at one another.
“What are you doing here, Felicity?” I asked, my voice distant. Still reeling from my meeting with Rob, I didn’t have the energy to give her all my anger.
“We need to talk, Coen.” Her mousy tone made me want to strangle her.
“Get the fuck out. We talked about this before. I’m done.” My voice dripped with vehemence. For some reason, Conor’s eyes pleaded with me.
“I’m pregnant, Coen.” My stomach curdled, I felt sick. We wore protection, she swore she was on birth control. What the actual fuck? We hadn’t had sex in months, and she wasn’t showing at all.
“I doubt it’s mine. You fucked Rebel’s husband, remember?” I gripped the doorknob, not willing to get any closer. The heat flaming my face made me want to escape more than anything.
“Baby, it meant nothing! It was a lack in judgment,” she begged. It wasn’t becoming of her.
“Conor,” I seethed, “please escort her to her car. I’m not dealing with this shit. I’ve got a week until I leave for my next tour. There will be no time for fuckery.”
“Of course, man.” He nodded, despite the disapproval written all over his face.
Felicity saying she carried my child was an issue for another day. If it were my kid, there was nothing stopping me from raising it. I may not have planned it, but I’d never abandon a baby.
Stomping around them, I went directly to my temporary room. The desire to get my own place was strong. Nothing would stop my plan to be happy, not even Felicity.
My bed welcomed me like an old lover. Its softness reminded me of Rebel's warm, smooth arms, the only arms I want wrapped around me.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted her.
Hey, princess. We need to talk. Can you come over?
Already on my way.
This earth could never prepare me for emotions this strong, and if anything happened to me this coming week, I didn’t want to wonder “what if” anymore. No longer would I play by anyone’s rules but my own.
Rebel
Not exactly sure what got into Coen, but after that horrid date, I couldn’t wait to see him. “We need to talk,” were usually the worst words to hear, but for some reason, I felt positive this talk would be better.
As I drove to Coen’s, my heart raced. Anticipation wasn’t the word, but exhilaration could be. I wanted to be in his arms, not even necessarily sexually. Something about him being around aroused me until I’d have the woman equivalent to blue balls, or soothed me into complete peace. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but I loved every moment of it.
Conor’s car was here. Great. I wanted Coen to myself.
When I tapped on the door, there was no answer. The little doorbell was barely noticeable, but I clicked it for good measure.
“Coming!” Conor opened the door, frowning dispassionately. His eyebrows were drawn down. “Red, I love you, but maybe it isn’t—”
Abruptly, the door was pulled open. “Let her in. We need to talk,” Coen persisted.
“Okay, but I’m not going to be here to see the aftermath.” Conor grabbed his coat and keys.
“Go give Stace a visit. She’s at my place. Canterberry Drive,” I offered, hugging him quickly. “I love you too, Conor. Don’t ever forget that.”
“See you both later. Try not to break any shit, okay?”
We chuckled, waving as he left. Unease settled in, why would we break shit?
“Now,” Coen started, “come in.”
I followed him to his room, he turned and shut the door behind me. He didn’t fully move into it for his temporary stay. A photo of me, Coen, Stace, and Conor sat on a bedside table. We were sixteen or so, smiling like we’d won some academy award. I remembered that day, we’d gone to the school festival and rode a ton of rides. Stace and I got sick after attempting a churro eating contest with the guys. We were obviously not that bright, guys ate tons more than we could.
That night, we’d ventured up the Uintah mountains and planned to camp out for a few days. Coen found this great place. There was a lake and a rock in the middle. All weekend we had campfires running, four-wheeling when we ventured out, and fishing when we wanted to relax. It was singlehandedly the best weekend of my life.
Stace had lost her virginity to Conor that weekend, and I fell even harder for my best friend. After that, we were never the same. A small tear escaped my eye, and before I caught it, Coen did.
“It brings back so many memories.” His palm grasped my face. “Ones we never had the chance to make.”
He leaned in. If he wanted to kiss me, he’d have to go the ninety percent and me the ten.
They brushed mine, so smooth and silky. My hands grabbed the back of his neck, giving into him. His mouth trails my throat as a whimper escaped me.
“So fucking sexy, princess.”
His husky tone enticed me, and I grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting while keeping my lips on his.
With his assistance, it was gone in moments, and his belt was next. This wasn’t sloppy or awkward. The movements were fluid and precise as if I waited my entire life for this very moment. In a way, I had.
Coen is touching me. Coen…is…touching…me. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped. The one man I’d wanted had me in his grasp, and he wasn’t throwing me away or letting go. He wanted me. He wants me. I didn’t know if I’d stay upright for long, every built-up emotion tumbled through me.
Fear. Anxiety. Lust. Love.
For this moment he was mine, and I was his. I’d always been his.
Coen gripped my waist, bringing my body flush with his. His hands roamed my curves, and for once in my life, I wasn’t self-conscience about it.
“I’ve waited my entire life for this, princess. Nothing is going to stop us now,” he whispered in my ear.
Chills rushed down my spine, hardening my nipples. He raised my blouse, and the fabric rubbed against my already sensitive nubs. Since I hurried over, I hadn’t put a bra on. Easy access, I guess?
His eyes widened, and then he slid his tongue across his bottom lip. Whenever he did that, I’d imagine pulling it into my mouth, and this time, I gave into my urges. Fuck. How long I’d waited to graze it with my teeth.
When his tongue ring touched my tongue, another groan escaped. I was barely holding onto this moment, all I could do was feel. And fuck, did I feel it all.
Our clothes slowly disappeared, and we were on the bed with him above me. He observed me, admiration reflected in his eyes, and the action made me feel small. I sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to cover myself.