Breakaway, p.33
Breakaway, page 33
I lean against the pillows, giving my cock a firm stroke. It’s fucking satisfying, knowing she still feels me that deeply. When she comes back a couple minutes later with minty fresh breath, she slips right into my lap. She fits against me so well. She kisses me, tangling our tongues together as she grinds down on my cock. I kiss back, running my hand down her back, squeezing her ass. She moans into my mouth softly. My balls ache, drawn up tight; like always, her mere presence has me pressed right against the edge.
“Need to be inside you, baby girl,” I whisper. “Can I have you?”
She nibbles on my lip. “Always.”
I flip us over, so she’s underneath me, her head settled on the pillows. She curves her hand around my jaw as she pulls me into another kiss, and meanwhile, I stroke my hand down her body, cupping her pussy. She’s slick already.
I smile against her mouth. “Such a good girl.”
“No teasing,” she murmurs. “Give it to me. I want to ache because of you.”
I’m all the way hard now, thanks to the friction of our bodies, so I just spread her legs and rub my cock against her entrance. She glares at me—I guess that qualifies as teasing—so I smack her pussy with my palm instead. Her mouth drops open in surprise, but then she moans, tilting her head back. I smack her again, a little harder, and she lifts her hips, seeking more of the pain that mixes so beautifully with her pleasure. I roll us onto our sides, so I’m spooning her, and press her leg against her chest so I have access to her sweet cunt. I smack her a few more times, listening to her little gasps, watching as she shudders in my arms, and then finally, I shove in all at once. It’s fucking exquisite, the way she feels; so goddamn tight I can barely move, feeling her pussy flutter around me as she tries to get used to my length. She cries out my name. Warmth rushes from my head to the tips of my toes. I nuzzle the place where her shoulder meets her neck and bite down as I rock into her. And because she’s my good girl—my best girl, my fucking everything—that makes her reach back to pull more of my weight onto her.
Her voice shakes as she says my name again. Not Callahan. Cooper.
“You take me so goddamn beautifully,” I whisper against her ear. Now that she has the IUD and we’re monogamous, we’ve forgone the condoms most of the time, and the drag of my bare cock against her tight as fuck core leaves me dizzy. The fact she trusts me—loves me—enough to give me this gift astonishes me. If I have my way, I’ll spend the rest of my life worshipping at the altar of her body.
I reach around to rub her clit, but she drags my hand away. “I can come from this,” she says, her voice shaking. “Fuck me harder.”
I pull her closer instead, using the leverage to work myself even deeper inside her. She cries out so loudly, I’m glad we’re in a hotel room, not at the house. I must hit the perfect angle, because she tenses, her whole body a live wire about to explode, right before she sobs my name. Warm, slippery wetness coats my groin as she comes. The way she screams, the evidence of her pleasure marking both of us, sends me over the edge as well, and I come deep inside her, groaning as I breathe in her scent. Stars spark at the edges of my vision. She’s gripped around me so tightly I couldn’t move even if I wanted.
“Wow,” she murmurs, sounding dazed. “A vaginal orgasm. I’ve never felt it that intensely.”
“My ego doesn’t need stroking, but I like when you do it anyway.”
She giggles. I press my hand against her breastbone; her heart is racing like she just ran a sprint. My own is pounding as well. A vaginal orgasm. I wasn’t even sure if those existed before now. Now that I do, though? It’s going to be fun dragging them out of her.
We stay like that for a while, but eventually, she reaches for her phone.
“Oh, shit. We need to go.”
“We can just take a later train.”
“No,” she says, looking over her shoulder at me. “You’re getting breakfast with your dad.”
I raise my eyebrows. “No.”
“I set it up with him last night. You need to talk to him, love.”
My breath catches in my throat. That’s fucking unfair, hitting me with a pet name like that at a time like this. “I doubt he wants to talk to me.”
“He does.” She untangles us both and slips off the bed. “He just—”
I look at her slicked-up thighs. My mouth is watering. “I wasn’t done, you know.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, which just makes me look at her tits. As much fun as it is to come inside her, I love when I can suck my seed off those pale pink nipples. “Well, too bad,” she says. “Your dad punched your uncle last night, you know.”
I’m startled into laughter. “No way. Richard Callahan doesn’t punch people.”
“He does when he’s defending his son.” Penny runs her fingers through her hair, untangling the knots. “I know he’s been shitty to you, but I told him that. I told him he needs to be honest with you, and that honesty starts now. Get dressed.”
My eyes widen. “You did what?”
“It needed to be said, and I’m not sorry.”
“Holy shit, I wish I’d been there to see that.”
“I think I terrified James.” She winces. “I might’ve called your uncle an impotent worm, too. I was just so mad.”
“And you thought that insult was too over the top.”
“He deserved it,” she says, a fierce note in her voice. I can imagine the scene; Penny in her fancy dress, her arms crossed over her chest just like this, chin tilted as she stared down grown men. How could I have ever thought she wouldn’t choose me first? When I ran away, she was there to take the heat—and then she found me and gave me her heart. You don’t push away a girl like that, you keep her close and thank your lucky stars that she decided you’re the one she wants. “He might not deserve another chance, but your dad does. Don’t let things between you wither, Cooper. It takes a long time for them to grow green again.”
Chapter 67
Cooper
Once we’re dressed, we head down to the lobby to wait. After last night, I made sure Penny bundled up in thick socks, boots, jeans, an undershirt, a sweater, and then her coat, gloves, and her McKee knit cap. She looks like a puffball in her coat, and she’s glaring at me like she’s deeply annoyed, but I don’t care. She’s never risking the cold again, not after the stunt she pulled last night.
I feel like I’m waiting for a root canal. I’ve never had one, but this is what I imagine it’s like: staring at the clock, willing it to go slow yet fast, a pit of dread in your stomach the size of the Grand Canyon. I’d prefer dental work to talking to my father. At least the dentist would be less awkward, and maybe even less painful. You get Novocain at the dentist, not for heart-to-hearts.
If this ends up being that. I can’t imagine he has anything good to say. After he realized I gave over the money? The look of disappointment in his eyes was enough to make me want to crawl into the sewer and become one with the subway rats.
“Thank God he agreed,” I hear my mother say. I whip my head around; she’s walking arm-in-arm with Dad out of the elevator. When she sees us, she smiles tiredly. “There they are, Richard.”
Penny jumps up and kisses me on the cheek. “Have fun. I’m going to brunch with Izzy and your mom.”
“I need a mimosa,” Mom says. “And a bagel.”
“Can we get bagels?” I ask Dad.
He looks like a wreck, dark circles underneath his eyes, a shadow of a beard on his face. When he buttons his coat, I see bruises on his knuckles. Huh. Not that I thought Penny was lying about the fight, but it just sounded so improbable that I didn’t believe it. Yet here’s the evidence, right in front of me.
He gives Mom a peck on the lips before gesturing to the door. “We can get whatever you want, son. But I need some fresh air.”
I linger in the lobby for a moment so Mom can hug me. She kisses the side of my face, squeezing me tightly. “Listen to him, okay?” She leans back, cupping my chin with her gloved hand. “I love you both so much. I need you to be okay.”
“I love you too,” I say. My voice breaks, but it’s still easier to say to her than to Dad.
She pats my cheek before turning to Penny. “Izzy said she was awake,” she says, frowning down at her phone. “Time isn’t her strong suit.”
“It’s not Cooper’s either, if it’s not hockey,” I hear Penny say, a dry note in her tone. I almost turn around to stick my tongue out at her, but Dad is calling my name.
We stroll shoulder-to-shoulder down the sidewalk. At first, I think we’re just wandering around, but then he says, “Maps said the bagel shop should be up ahead,” and I realize he searched for the nearest one while I was saying bye to Mom. That makes my heart feel squishy. Then a beat passes and I feel silly. I asked if we could get bagels, so he found a shop. We’re in New fucking York. There’s one around every corner here.
Still, we each get a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese, plus little paper cups of coffee.
“Penny and I went ice skating last night,” I say. “At Wollman’s. Remember last year?”
“I remember I almost broke my wrist,” Dad says dryly. “That girl is a firecracker.”
“Be mad at me if you want, but don’t be mad at her.”
“Mad?” He leads the way to a bench just inside the park. “I’m not mad at her or you, son. I’m mad at myself.”
I nearly drop my bagel onto the sidewalk. “Dad? You feeling okay?”
He just stares out at the trees. “Blake is transferring the money back to you. What’s left of it, anyway. I agreed to replace the rest, so he leaves that much sooner.”
I swallow down a too-large bite of bagel. “Thanks.”
Despite knowing it’s for the best, my heart still aches. Maybe it’s like Mom said, and he really is best loved from a distance, but I liked having him around. If it wasn’t for him, I might never have discovered hockey, and then maybe I’d be a shitty wide receiver or something. It was nice to have an uncle, even if he fed right into the most fragile, insecure parts of myself.
Dad sighs, still looking around the park. A group of women fast-walk past us, and a dog walker comes from the opposite direction. No one looks at us twice, which I’m grateful for. James has said that he has trouble going out in public with Dad; someone always recognizes one or both of them.
James. I need to apologize to him, and to Sebastian. They were just trying to help, and I was shitty to them. I know that Dad and Uncle Blake’s relationship is complicated for a lot of reasons, but I never want to be at odds with my brothers the way they are.
Dad carefully sets his coffee on the bench beside him and turns to me, his hands clasped together over his knees. I’m drawn again to his left hand; the swollen, bruised knuckles make my heart do a somersault.
“I can’t believe you punched Uncle Blake,” I blurt.
He closes his eyes briefly. “Not my finest moment, perhaps.”
“Aren’t you the one always telling me not to lose my temper?”
“True,” he says wryly. “But when it comes to my children, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.” He sighs again. “Cooper, I haven’t been a very good father to you. When I saw how you looked last night—my heart broke. I’m sorry that I fucked up things so badly. And I needed to hear it. I hope you’re planning on keeping that girl around, because you could use her in your corner.”
I duck my head, a small smile on my face. “She’s the best.”
“And you deserve the best. You deserve a father who doesn’t make you question his love.”
I look up; Dad’s voice is breaking. There are tears in his eyes, and when he blinks, a few of them run down his face. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen my father cry before. When James got drafted by the Eagles, maybe? At Granddad’s funeral? I shake my head, barely comprehending what he’s saying. “I mean, I know . . . I know you love me.”
“I do love you. I’ve loved you since the moment your mother and I found out we were going to be lucky enough to have another son.”
I bite my lip. Across the path, two squirrels chase each other. A woman walks by with a little kid in her arms. So many ordinary things are happening around us, and yet my heart is beating like I’m sprinting down the ice with a breakaway.
“Cooper, look at me.”
It’s hard, but I make myself. He wipes at his eyes carefully with a tissue before folding it back into a square and tucking it into his pocket.
“I’ve always been proud of you, even when I haven’t shown it. I’m especially proud of the man you’re becoming. And I’m sorry you doubted that. I’m sorry you felt like nothing you ever did was enough.”
My vision blurs with tears of my own. I blink them back impatiently. “Why’d you never . . . just say that? Like when I made captain, why’d you act like you didn’t care?”
“I did care. I was so fucking proud of you I could barely talk.” He laughs bitterly. “But I’d just heard about your uncle from James. I was trying to protect you, and of course, all I did was drive you right to him.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“Do you . . .” I trail off. Fuck, this is hard, but I need to know the answer once and for all. If he’s serious about honesty, then this is the chance to ask. “I mean, do you wish I played football instead? Did I disappoint you, choosing hockey?”
He surprises me yet again by carefully setting my coffee cup aside and pulling me into a hug. I’m frozen for a moment, my brain scrambling as I try to input what’s happening; a hug from my handshake-yes-sir sort of father, but then I relax into it. It’s like when I went to Coach, but better, because it’s my dad giving it to me, not my girlfriend’s. “Never. Not even a little bit.”
“Are you sure? Because James . . .”
He rubs my back in long, comforting strokes. “Is James. You’re you. I’ve never wanted you to be anyone but yourself, and it’s on me if that got lost in translation. My father—your granddad—he tried his best, you know? But he was the stoic type. There was always a next step. Somewhere else to go. And mostly, that worked as motivation for me. But I see now that your needs are different, and I’m sorry I’ve failed you for so long.”
He takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ll tell you it as often as you need. I won’t let my love go unsaid or unfelt. Not anymore. You’re precious to me, son.”
I’m pretty sure my brain short-circuits. I try to reply, but my voice is all strangled. Eventually, I manage a quiet “Thanks.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. I bite the inside of my cheek. He hasn’t done that since I was very small. A kid in a hockey-themed bedroom, waiting for his quarterback father to come home from a game in time to kiss him good night. I’d stay up way later than I should have, just so I could get a couple extra seconds with him.
“I was coming to see you anyway, you know,” he says. “The day after you got into that fight.”
“Not to tell me off about Uncle Blake?”
“No. And I regret what I said.” He pulls away as he clears his throat. “I wanted to surprise you with lunch to celebrate you winning Hockey East. But Sebastian called me on the way, and I let my worry and fear get the best of me. We should have been celebrating your accomplishment, and instead I cocked it all up. Again.”
Hearing what he intended to do—even if it didn’t happen—eases the pain in my soul. “We could do it now,” I offer. “Make it dinner later, with Penny and her dad. I want you to really talk to Coach, and to get to know Pen better.”
He nods. “Your mother will want to be there too, I’m sure. After all, we’ll be traveling with her to see Regionals. The Frozen Four, too, when you get there.”
Warmth spreads through my insides. “If we get there.”
“You will.” He nods, like it’s an indisputable fact. “I’ve seen the tape, son. You’ll get there, and you’ll win.”
I run my hand through my hair. It’s absurd, after the conversation we just had, but I’m still a little nervous about asking him for things. I’ve spent so long worrying about his rejection—yet if this relationship is really going to be different moving forward, I need to put myself out there just as much as him. “So, do you want me to set it up? Or are you too busy?”
“Never for you.” He gathers up his coffee and the rest of his bagel, then claps me on the shoulder. “Let’s go watch the skating for a while. And tell me more about this girl you’re going to marry one day.”
Epilogue
Penny
Several Weeks Later
Cooper has his head buried between my thighs, eating me out like it’s his last fucking meal—you’d think it was, he’s been so dramatic about making sure everything is perfect before we leave for the Frozen Four—and I’m on the edge of coming again when I notice the clock. Back when I first saw his bedroom, I told him he was an old man for having an old-fashioned alarm clock by his bedside, but now? I’m grateful, because without it, I wouldn’t have realized that we needed to leave for campus at least ten minutes ago. Fifteen, if we were really smart.
We’re clearly not smart.
I hadn’t planned on waking him with my best Arwen impression, but I saw The List while I was flipping through my notebook during a writing session yesterday, and I remembered that we technically didn’t cross off every item, and I already had the ears, and well . . . that led to making out, which led to a vaginal orgasm that made me squirt, which led to Cooper getting that look in his eyes that means I’m about to be devoured. It’s a look I’m powerless to resist, but in my defense, I think most women would agree with me. You don’t get eye-fucked by Cooper Callahan and then turn him down when he gets on his knees.
I smack my palm against his shoulder. “Cooper!”
“Mm,” he says.
The vibration of his voice makes me lose my focus, but then I see my phone—on the floor, half under his desk—light up with a call. I’d bet my last orgasm that’s Dad calling, wondering why the hell we’re not at Markley Center, ready to drive to the airport. “Cooper. Callahan. We’re going to be late.”
