The Trade(106)

“I’m on the pill,” I say, letting him know that it’s okay. “I trust you.”

“Hell.” He bends forward, his heavy erection pressing against my leg as he cups my cheek and kisses me with such force that he steals the very air from my lungs, only to return it when his cock rubs against my center. “I love you,” he says, against my lips and then grips himself and pushes against my entrance.

I gasp and spread my legs, welcoming him inside me, needing him inside me. He doesn’t take his time. Instead, he enters me in one smooth thrust and I nearly come from the guttural groan that falls past Cory’s lips.

“Oh fuck . . . me,” he says through clenched teeth. “Shit, beautiful. Best feeling ever. Best feeling . . . ever,” he repeats, starting to move in and out of me. “So warm. So tight. So wet. Shit, I won’t last.”

Neither will I, not when his voice is so strained, not when it feels like I couldn’t be any more full, not with the way his hand snakes down to my front and starts playing with my clit. By the way his thumb works my clit so quickly, he wants me to come with him.

“Shit, Natalie, I’m there. I’m right there.”

I thrust my hips up as he enters me, and I swear he touches me in a spot I’ve never felt before.

“Again, oh fuck, Cory, do that again.”

So he does, hitting me in just the right spot that my vision turns blurry and with every thrust. Everything fades until a burst of light hits me so hard that my nerves spread through my veins, rocking me into an eternal bliss.

I contract around him, scream out his name, and ride his cock so hard that I barely register him coming as well until we’re both breathing heavily, him on top of me, our sweaty bodies sliding against one another. Still inside me, Cory kisses my cheek, my nose, my eyes, and then my mouth for a few seconds at a leisurely pace before he presses his forehead to mine and says, “I’m so fucking grateful you’re here.”

I believe him, every last piece of him, because his grip on me is so strong that I’m concerned he’s not doing as well as I thought he was.

“I’m glad I came too,” I say, pressing a kiss to his chin, his scruff a total turn-on for me. “Think we can order some food and then talk? I’m starving.”

“Yes,” he says, giving me one last long kiss and then pulling out of me.

We both clean up. I quickly rinse off in the shower while he orders us a few burgers, and then we curl up on the couch together, me in one of his shirts, him in a pair of athletic shorts, and that’s it. It’s been a week . . . a freaking week and seeing him in person makes my chest squeeze with longing. I didn’t realize how much I actually fell for this man until just now, having him next to me, our fingers linked together, the relief in his eyes shining back at me.

“Thank you for coming, even though I told you not to.”

“I needed to see you. You haven’t sounded the same on the phone.”

He blows out a heavy breath and grips the ends of his hair. “Yeah, it’s been pretty hard down here. The guys are cool, but I can tell they’re not too excited about the attention and the added negative publicity to the team. Fans are brutal and it seems like no matter what I do, nothing is good enough.” He looks up at me and adds, “And then the article today, I’m guessing you saw it.”

I nod. “Once I landed. Dottie and Monica sent it to me.” I scoot in even closer and say, “I’m so sorry, Cory. I can’t—” I start to tear up and catch my breath.

“This is not on you. This is the media trying to make things exponentially worse to sell more ad space, more papers, more magazines. This has nothing to do with you or me and everything to do with their bottom line.”

“But at the expense of you? How is that fair?”

“It comes with the territory. The bigger the paycheck, the bigger the attention.” He looks me in the eyes and says, “I just hate that you’re being dragged into it and so is the team. I’ve had my fair share of press in the past, but nothing like this, and I really don’t know how to navigate it.”

“Well, telling me not to come visit isn’t the way.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m just, fuck, Natalie, I’m going through a shitload of stuff right now and I feel like I’m on the verge of actually breaking through to these guys on my team. They’re lukewarm with me, and l need them to trust me.”

“You don’t think you have their trust?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“But Jason—”

He stops me with a squeeze to my thigh. “Natalie, I love you, but I think we need to draw a fine line right now. I know you’re close with your brother, but I don’t want you going to him for information about me. If you want to know something, you come to me. I had the same conversation with him this morning, to not play the middleman when he was telling me you were feeling like I was acting weird. If this is going to work, we need to keep our relationship to ourselves and not lean on Jason to communicate for us.”

Ouch, that hurts, but I understand where he’s coming from. I wouldn’t be too happy if Milly was coming to me about worries and concerns of Cory’s. I’d be really angry about it, actually.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “You’re right, Jason can’t be in the middle of us.” I bite the corner of my lip, nervous to find the answer to my next question, but I know it needs to be answered. “What’s going to happen next? With the article. Are they going to . . . make you break up with me?”