I fall asleep wishing I could erase my past so I could be a better version of myself, one that didn’t have her innocence blown apart at the age of fourteen when I learned my life had been a fucked-up lie in a fucked-up world.

I wake up to Darren’s hard-on pressed against my hip and his lips at my ear asking to get inside me. There’s no chance I’m saying no to him, so we follow morning sex with room service while he gets ready for his pre-game skate, and I prepare to explore Toronto with the girls until game time.

He’s quiet, which isn’t unusual for Darren, but he’s tense and restless, even after the morning orgasm.

“You okay?” I smooth his shower-damp hair away from his face.

“Mmm.” He sits on the edge of the bed, pulls me between his legs, and tucks his head under my chin.

“That’s not really an answer,” I point out.

“Keep touching me, please.”

“We’re supposed to be downstairs in two minutes.”

“I’m not asking for sex, Charlene. I just need you close to me.”

“You’re going to be amazing tonight.”

His nose brushes my throat at his nod, and his fingers flex on my hips. His palms slide up my back, wrapping around my shoulders as he pulls me in tighter. He tips his head and his lips press against the side of my neck and part. The soft, wet touch of his tongue warms my body, and heat settles low in my stomach.

“Darren.” It’s warning twisted with desire.

He stands quickly, one palm curving around my nape. I tilt back as he looms over me, his gaze hot and needy.

“What—”

He cuts off the question with his mouth. His tongue pushes past my lips, and he finds his way under my shirt with his free hand. We need to be downstairs now. His team is leaving for their pre-game skate in minutes. We don’t have time for another round of morning sex, and I don’t want to be the reason he’s off his game tonight.

I put my palms on his chest with the intention of pushing, but his fingers dip into the waistband of my leggings—it’s pretty much all I packed for the weekend—and slide into my panties.

I gasp and grip his shirt when he finds the barbell piercing my hood and circles it roughly. He goes lower and thrusts two fingers inside me. Finding the magic spot, he curls fast and hard, making my knees buckle. His grip on the back of my neck tightens, preventing me from sinking to the floor.

He curls his fingers one more time before he withdraws to circle my clit again. It won’t take much to make me come. Just a bit more friction and I’ll go tumbling over the edge. But his hand disappears, and he wrenches his mouth away from mine.

I cry out at the loss of his touch and try to pull him back to me with his shirt. His name is a whine on my lips. My clit is throbbing, and my knees are weak.

“Please, Darren.” The high pitch should be embarrassing, but dear God, the muscles are already clenching with the promise of an orgasm, if only he would touch me again.

His hot, almost angry gaze stays locked on mine as he lifts his hand, fingers glistening. I groan as he slips them into his mouth, sucking loudly.

Somewhere to the right a phone buzzes with a message.

One corner of his mouth tips up in a sinister smile as his fingers slide out of his mouth. He licks between the webbing, and my eyes roll up. I attempt to shove my own hand down my pants to finish what he started.

“No,” he barks and grabs both my wrists. He spins me around until my knees hit the back of the bed and I drop to my ass. He straddles my legs, clamping them together as he hovers over me once again. “How do you feel right now, Charlene?”

The sound that comes out of me is somewhere between a whimper and a growl.

“That’s not an answer, little firefly.”

I fight against his hold on my wrists and swivel my hips.

He dips down until his face is an inch from mine. “Are you on the edge?”

“Yes.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

“No?” He quirks a brow.

“Yes!” This time it’s a moan.

“Restless? Needy? Wanting? Desperate?”

I nod fervently. “All of those things.”

“This is how I feel every time I’m away from you.”

His eyes stay on mine, unblinking as he waits for me to process what he’s just admitted. We don’t talk feelings, and yet here he is, telling me more in these few words and actions than he has in the past two years.

“Don’t make yourself come today. Whatever happens tonight, this is how I need you so we match when we’re back together. Do you understand?” His voice is hard, but his expression is vulnerable.

“Yes, Darren. I understand.”

His smile turns soft and his lips are softer still as they brush over mine. He releases my wrists and steps back, setting me free. I feel like I’ve been shot up with adrenaline and tranqued at the same time.

“Come on, baby. The girls are waiting for you, and I’m going to be in trouble with my team if we don’t move our asses.” He extends a hand and winks.

“You’re an asshole,” I gripe, but take his hand because I don’t think I’m capable of standing on my own.

His chuckle is dark as he pulls me to my feet. I stumble and end up mashed against his chest. I might try to rub myself on him during that brief contact. He kisses my temple. “But I’m your asshole.”

I snort, but he’s right. He hands me my purse and phone, then pockets his own and grabs his bag. I’m less than coordinated as he opens the door and ushers me into the hall. I have to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other rather than slamming him into a wall so I can hump him until I come.

He punches the elevator button, and I stare at the numbers as they rise. The churning in my stomach grows the closer it gets to our floor. I don’t know what I want more—the elevator to be empty or full. If it’s empty he’s going to torment me, as he sometimes likes to do. I’m aware that this is tied to his stress level over the game tonight.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Shit. It’s empty.

“Come on, firefly.” Darren links our pinkies and tugs. I stumble forward, my mouth dry. Expectation and anxiety make the ache between my legs flare. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrored walls. My eyes are wide and glassy, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kisses.

He presses the button that will take us to the lobby, and I watch as the doors slide closed. Darren drops his bag on the floor and crowds me into the corner, pressing his hips into mine.

I groan and let my head fall back against the glass, waiting for him to do something, anything. His lips find my neck and trail up to my ear. “Feeling trapped?”

I shake my head.

“Still needy?” Now his lips are on my cheek.

I exhale a shuddering breath and nod.

His smile makes the harsh angles of his face even more severe rather than softening them. “I bet your panties are already soaked through.”

I swallow hard and clench my thighs harder. His knee presses against mine, and I open, letting him in. I glance up. We have thirty more floors, but the elevator could stop anytime to pick up people. He rolls his hips, his erection pressed against my stomach, his thigh providing the friction I’m so very desperate for.

The orgasm is like an aura in the air, the glitter of a sunrise on the water—close but not quite within reach.

“What are you waiting for? Chase it. See if you can catch it before it’s too late.”

I fist his shirt and grind shamelessly on his leg, not caring how desperate I must look and sound as I whimper and roll my hips while he stands immobile, one hand gripping the bar on either side of me, eyes fixed on mine. He’s not helping, but he’s giving me a chance to help myself.

I glance over his shoulder. Shit. Only fifteen more floors to go. I grind harder, moaning loudly as sensation builds and funnels, a tornado gaining momentum.

His gaze follows mine in the mirror. “Better hurry. Time is running out.”

I’m right there—bliss a lit firecracker ready to explode in my clit—when the elevator dings. Darren covers my hand with his and steps back, even as I try to follow his thigh. He shakes his head, his expression almost remorseful, and he uncurls my fingers from his shirt and brings my knuckles to his lips. He kicks his bag to the wall and leans against it.

He’s quick to wrap an arm around my shoulder and pull me into his side. He drops his head, lips finding my temple as he whispers, “Sorry, firefly, you almost had it.”

The doors slide open and a family enters, giving us half smiles while their kids press their faces against the glass and the youngest one tries to push all the buttons. My knees feel weak all over again, and I want to cry. My clit is still singing “I was that close.”

When the elevator finally reaches the lobby, Darren laces our fingers together and guides me to where his bus is waiting and the girls are huddled around their phones.

“Finally!” Violet holds up her phone, showing us the time. “They were about to leave without you.” She thumbs over her shoulder to where Alex is standing outside. Darren’s phone rings as Alex brings his to his ear.