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I inched his pants down, the agony in my movements affecting him as I heard him breathing hard out of his nose only. That beautiful cock sprang free, nearly hitting me in the face he was so stiff and erect.

I grabbed him, testing a few strokes as I watched the milky pre-cum drip onto my fist. Then Killian reached down, pushing my hand away as he grabbed himself.

"Open." His voice was so strained I could tell he was trying not to come just by the sight of me on my knees.

I refused, pinning my lips together and mocking him. “I wanted the control."

"Open now, Leah, or I will shoot my load all over your face and you can kiss the multiple orgasms I was going to give you goodbye."

Heat swamped my belly, making me visibly shudder as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I opened my mouth wide, watching as he moved closer and finally brushed past my lips.

He went slowly, moving his grip to my hair and gently fucking my mouth as I made low sucking noises.

"Fuck, your mouth is better than I even imagined." He stopped, pulling out. I could see in his eyes, now the shade of storm clouds about to burst, that he was trying hard to keep it together.

"Undress for me and get on your back."

I followed his instructions, trying my hardest to move seductively. As soon as I scooted back onto the mattress, Killian was pressing a knee into it.

We connected as soon as my back hit the bed, him pushing into me. It didn't matter that he hadn't even touched me up to that point, I was wet enough that I was seconds away from tumbling over that euphoric edge.

Killian leaned over me, his large hands tangled in my hair. His eyes were drugged, drowsy with lust, and I could smell the fresh grass of the pitch all over his skin even though he was freshly showered. I dug my fingers into his back, sticking them between the large, built tendons under his skin.

His lips brushed my ear. "I'm going to go so slow that by the third time you come, you'll be shaking like a leaf under me. You won't be able to speak. The world will cease to exist, because your body will be in a different dimension."

And that's exactly what he did to me.

W
e laid in a sweaty
, gasping heap on top of Killian's bed. My fingers and toes were so numb that I thought they might have fallen off. The only reason I knew I still had a leg was because it was thrown over Killian's, his hand gently stroking my slick skin.

The air was filled with our breathing, which slowly calmed down as we came out of our sex high. We just laid together, basking in the delicious afterglow of the marathon session we'd just had.

But I could still feel the tension between us. Even after all of these weeks. We’d never discussed the things that had come out about me. I didn’t know if Killian just didn’t care, if he didn’t consider what we were doing as something more than just fucking each other’s brains out.

I needed to explain myself. To defend myself somehow, because I could still feel the bitterness in his tone when he spoke to me. And maybe I felt like I’d rolled over too quickly, let him get underneath my skin. He needed to hear what I’d gone through, even if it meant only protecting myself for the heartbreak I could feel coming with what we were doing.

"When I was 17, I started dating Taylor Mason. I'm sure you're familiar with his picture by now. American football god, basically going to be drafted in the first round in April. We were together for five years. I'd basically been planning our future. A future HE had mapped out for us. Everything I had done, had lived for was to advance Taylor in his career. Until he decided that he'd rather fuck NFL groupies than put a ring on my finger."

Killian cringed next to me in the dark, nothing but our breathy pants and the tension filling the air. His breathing stalled as he listened. He pulled me further into his chest, not saying anything, so I continued on. "I know you don't think those things about me anymore, or at least I hope you don't, but the things the media are saying aren't true. I have been with one boy in my entire life. Until I came here, I'd only slept with one boy my entire life. So when you accused me of the things you did, being a slut, a jersey chaser, those things are so far from the truth it’s ridiculous. I’m not that kind of girl, Killian. And I never stood up to them, or to you, but I am now. I’m sleeping with you because I want to, it makes me feel good and empowered. And the sex is amazing. But you need to realize that this isn’t my normal. I’m a strong woman, or I’m trying to become one. Taylor stripped so much of my identity from me, and that was partly my fault. But just because I’m involved with you, doesn’t mean I’m going to ever let that happen again. I’m my own person, I make my own decisions, and that doesn’t give you the opening to shame me about any of it.”

My cheeks flushed, realizing I might just have let a little too much information go, and that I’d gone full tirade on him.

"I am only the second guy you've ever slept with?" Killian's mouth fell open, and I rolled my eyes, thinking that of course that was the one thing he’d picked up on. “But I know, Leah. I know you’re not that type of person. I shouldn’t have said those things in the first place. I can be an asshole at the best of times, that’s just my nature. I’m a prickly guy. But I know enough about you to know that none of that was true. And it was wrong of me to stand by not saying anything to counteract it.”

I grinned, happy in his apology. "Thank you."

A few beats of silence passed. "Do you...still love him?"

I couldn't be sure why he was asking me that, but it felt like it held a lot of meaning in this context. Here we were, the first time in a bed together, the first time cuddling post-sex.

“When I first arrived here, I would have told you yes. He was my first love, my first everything. I’d been so invested in our life that I’d forgotten how to be by myself. But to be honest, a part of me wasn't that broken up about him dumping me. I think I was just more ashamed of myself when it all shook out. For five years I let Taylor think for me, dress me, parade me around. I had no true idea of myself, no passions or goals besides what he wanted me to be. No, I’m not in love with him anymore, but I do miss the life we had. The future we talked about having. And yet, it was like coming here saved me."

I paused, unsure if I should say the next part. But I went on. "You saved me. You know exactly who you are, exactly how you want to live your life. That kind of belief in yourself takes so much guts. And you've taught me that. So thank you."

I could feel his heart beating triple time beneath the palm I'd laid on his chest. And then his stomach growled in the loudest gurgle I've ever heard, interrupting the serene moment we had been having.

We both broke into a fit of laughter.

"I haven't eaten since before the game. What do you say to a proper English breakfast for dinner?"

H
appy
. The definition of it is the feeling of or showing of pleasure or contentment. Glee, joy, delight. These were all words to describe the state of happiness.

And for the first time in a very, very long time, they were words to describe me.

For so long I'd mourned, I'd wallowed in self-pity and grief and sadness. I'd drawn the shades on my life, vowing to never feel sunny or bright. I vowed to live like my bride, dead to the world. When she went I'd wanted so badly to go with her, that I'd ended my own life, more or less, as well. Giving my life over to football.

I didn't think I'd ever fall in love again. I didn't think I'd want children, or a family. If you would have asked me a month ago where I saw myself in ten years, I would have been alone, probably trying and failing miserably to maintain a football career that wasn't possible at that age.

But then Leah came along. And she'd changed, well, just about bloody everything.

I don't know what had possessed me to invite her up on Valentine's Day. Blimey, I hated that stupid Hallmark holiday. But, for once I hadn't wanted to be alone. And not just that, I craved being with her.

I hadn't set up anything romantic, hadn't bought her flowers or chocolates. I couldn't even promise her anything, I didn't know if I was capable of it. But something had shifted that night, when she’d opened up about her past.

Lying there, feeling her lush, sweaty flesh after one of the most intense moments of passion in my life, my heart had broken a little for her. I knew when I'd met her that she was timid. I'd had no idea that her bloody jackass, worthless piece of shit ex-boyfriend had broken her. He'd stolen away the best things about Leah, the things that had emerged in her the last few months and made her irresistible to me.

And as the weeks passed, we only became more entangled with each other. We worked closely together on my events and schedule, stealing moments and glances when no one was looking. I took her to the National Theatre to see a production of Frankenstein, where she was wiping the tears from her cheeks by the end of the performance.

It was such a new thing for me, seeing a woman be so open and up front with her emotions. British women were somewhat cold and no nonsense, Eve had been up until our lives fell apart. But Leah was so in-tune with her feelings, expressing them earnestly. It might have been her youth, which at times made me feel like an old man. But at other moments she was wise and mature beyond her years.

We were keeping our relationship hidden, not that we'd even talked about what this was yet. It was like if we didn't discuss what we were doing or if we didn’t go public with it, there was no issue. There was no challenge here. Still, I saw the dismay in her beautiful eyes each time I had to ignore her when we were on display for the media. I felt the gloom radiating off of her when I would talk or dance with other women at appearances or parties. I had to do it, keep up appearances, I'd explained to her. But part of me felt like if I didn't give myself all the way over to her, if I didn't show her my whole heart, than I wouldn't get hurt again.

Because I'd gone all in with Eve, and I'd been destroyed. I already felt, and god rest my late wife's soul, a more intense passion, a bigger piece of myself was falling for Leah than I ever had with anyone else.

But I let myself fall with Leah, even if I gave myself a safety net, because I just couldn't not fall. She had become such a vital part of my life, in such a short time. I'd never believed in finding that one, the mysterious person fate is supposed to bring you. And it was scary to think that I might be starting to put stock in that notion.

My love for Eve had been different. I’d seen our relationship through rose colored glasses. It was the first or puppy kind of love. We were so young, so sweet and naive. It had been real, there was no doubt about that, but we hadn’t been versed in life’s hardships yet. Sure, we had both had hard times growing up, but nothing so horrible, so undoable that the tragedy would have been branded into us for a lifetime. We were so bloody happy, until we weren’t. Our love couldn’t weather the storm life had dealt us.

But with Leah, things were different. We were both already jaded, already familiar with what it meant to be thoroughly heartbroken. If I were in love with her, which I wasn’t acknowledging yet, it was a mature kind of love. An educated, smart kind of love. Leah and I had our own identities, but we could also be happy together. I knew I could still feel that all-consuming love for her like I’d felt for Eve, but it would be wiser. It would be something that could withstand any obstacle.

London began to bloom with spring's finger erasing the depressing winter weather. The city's parks came to life, vibrant with flowers and plants spanning the spectrum of the rainbow. Residents came out of hibernation, donning their spring apparel and flooding the city streets once more. Nightlife picked up and boat races overtook the ponds and river.

I donned the mustache and hat several times as March started, taking Leah to the exhibit at Kensington Palace, a crew event on the Thames. I took her to Camden Market where we ate different delicacies from all corners of the world until we were too stuffed to stand.

I learned about her family and her life back home. Her mama, pa and two sisters, Delilah and Katie. She was the oldest, choosing to stay close to home at the University of Oklahoma. And to follow Taylor, although I'd gleaned that on my own. She loved her local library and tried to spend at least one day a week among the stacks smelling the old books.

So I took her to The London Library in St. James's Square, where she spent hours thumbing through books. I thought I would have to get her jaw rewired after the way it was hanging off her face.

Today, I'd surprised her and taken her to The Chocolate Festival on the Southbank, one of my favorite events every year that closed out the month of March.

We strolled in nothing but T-shirts and jeans, the weather unseasonably warm for late March, sipping small pints of chocolate beer.

"If you take me to anymore of these outdoor eating events, I think you'll be rolling me back onto the plane in a few months." She sighed, wiping some chocolate sauce off her mouth after finishing the rest of her chocolate churro.

It was the first mention she'd made about going back to the States. The thought honestly hadn't crossed my mind the entire time we'd known each other, sleeping together, falling for each other. But now it sat like an anvil in my gut, so I pushed it away, burying it in the box of other things that we didn't discuss.

"Did your mom bring you to any of these festivals?"

Yet another topic we hadn't broached yet, but I guess Leah was feeling talkative today. "No, I didn't grow up here. I lived in Tottenham, it’s about an hour outside of the city."

"And what do your mother and father do?" She sat on a bench overlooking the Thames, signaling for me to sit down.

I sighed, thinking I needed about three more chocolate beers to have this conversation.

"My mum raised me on her own, she was a night shift nurse and worked a diner job during the day. I never met my father."

Her pale hair blew in the wind and I caught the vanilla and citrus scent in the air. She looked picturesque on this bench, such a casual outfit, no makeup. She was breathtaking even now.

"Do you see your mom a lot?"

I huffed, annoyed with the 20 questions. "Jeez, Leah, I was having a nice day. Do we really need to do this interrogation now?"

I saw her chewing on her lower lip. "Fine. I just wanted to know a little bit more about your life, where you come from, that kind of stuff. Besides being a sex god who likes exotic food and can kick things well, I don't know all that much about you Killian."

She had a point. I didn't open up about my past. To anyone. But for her, I would try.

"Alright. I grew up in Tottenham with my single mother. Times weren't great, it was a rough neighborhood, and I was plucked up by the football gods at age nine. I moved to Central London, went through puberty and much of my teen years in an academy for prospective players, and then I signed my contract and have been playing ever since."

Leah turned, her green orbs burring holes in me. "That's just a brief description, a resume highlight. Tell me the connections, Killian. What about your mom, are you close now?"

"I bought my mom a house, got her out of the ghetto and I call her on Christmas."

She threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture. "That's it? She's your mom for goodness sake!"

"I don't know what to tell you, Leah. We were never close, not even when I lived with her. To be honest, I think she resented me for causing her so much struggle. I took care of her, because yes, she is my mother. But we don't feel the need to connect and bond. Some families just aren't like yours, Leah."

It was so American of her to try and analyze and therapy these feelings.

"So that’s it? You just have never had a family?"

Her question sent a pang of grief and agony through my body. I hadn't mentioned Eve to her. And I wasn't going to now. Of course I had had a family. At one point in my life, I was so ready to be the picture perfect unit that she'd described when talking about her own relatives.

"Nope, never." I felt the lie sting all the way up my throat before making its way to her ears. "Now can we talk about something else? Or better yet, I'm going to buy some of that hazelnut chocolate sauce. I have an idea that involves your naked body and my white bed sheets."