Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 152064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
“Truly.” He kisses me again, like he can’t get enough, like he never wants to stop. “I wanted it to be special for both of us.”
I press my lips to his throat. “That’s how it felt.”
“Because the connection we share is right here.” He taps over his heart, then wraps his arms around me and holds me tight for a few seconds. “How about I pour us a bath and we can have some cuddle time?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Flip sits up and carefully lifts me off him, settling my butt on his thighs. He removes the condom and slides to the edge of the bed, gripping the backs of my legs as he stands. I wrap myself around him and he carries me across to the bathroom. Keeping me in his lap, he sits on the edge of the tub and turns on the water. We kiss as the bath fills, and then he spins us around, helping me in before he positions himself behind me.
We lie in the sudsy water, letting the water wash away the sweat while he kisses my neck and holds me. When we’re clean, and I’m sleepy, Flip dries me off and carries me back to bed.
He curls himself around me, tucking me in close.
And in my heart I know I have a different version of this man than anyone else ever has.
CHAPTER 41
FLIP
“That was a rough one,” Stiles mutters as he pulls his jersey over his head and tosses it in his cubby.
“Sorry you guys had to work so hard.” Ryker unclips his goalie pads.
Grace pats him on the shoulder as he passes. “Anaheim was fucking relentless. Their offensive line has really put in the work this season. We were all fighting to keep the puck away from them.”
I shake my head. And failing about half the time. We eked out a win tonight, but it was an ugly one. Grace and Romero both ended up in the penalty box, one right after the other. And I took more than one hit into the boards. We’ll all be sore and tired tomorrow.
Stiles, Bright, and I are now the veteran players on the forward line, and we need to do better if we don’t want to tax our defensive line this close to playoffs. I’m hyperaware of being under a microscope. I have a bad game and the speculation ensues. The media blames my relationship with the coach’s daughter, saying my head isn’t in the game.
Last night I didn’t do myself any favors when I stayed at Tally’s. She lured me in with pretty new lingerie and a fantasy-fulfillment request. I can’t say no to her. I’m addicted to the way I feel when I’m with her, to the connection we share. Being with her, inside her, is a level of closeness I can’t get enough of. It’s new for us, which means we crave each other all the time.
But the late-night sex-a-thon with my girlfriend contributed to tonight’s lackluster performance. I don’t want her to blame herself for my lack of restraint and boundary setting.
The coaches enter the locker room before we can get past taking our jerseys and pads off. “Grace and Romero.” Coach Forrest-Hammer’s expression is tight. “You spent most of the game helping your goalie keep the puck out of the net, but those penalties could have been avoided. We need clean play this late in the season.”
“I know, Coach.” Romero bows his head.
“I’m sorry, Coach. I’ll do better next game.” Grace looks genuinely unhappy about her disappointment.
“I’m counting on you.” She scans the faces of my teammates before looking to Coach Vander Zee. He nods for her to proceed. “Some of the offensive line were half asleep tonight.” She gives me a pointed look. “That can’t happen again. We don’t want to be knocked out in the first round. If we keep playing like this, that’s exactly what will happen, especially if we’re up against New York.”
There’s a murmur of agreement. Kodiak Bowman continues to blow scoring records out of the water every year, and it’s probable that we’ll play them in round one. If I can’t get a handle on my hormones, it could be detrimental to my team. I don’t want to give Vander Zee a reason to trade me.
Coach Forrest-Hammer praises the goals and the solid effort but pushes in on the fact that we’re not playing like the playoffs are around the corner.
Vander Zee tips his chin at me. “Can I see you in my office after you’re cleaned up?”
“No problem, Coach.”
With that, the staff leaves us to change.
“What do you think that’s about?” Tristan asks as we finish stripping out of our gear.
“Probably Tally.” She talks to her mom daily and makes time to see them every week, even if it’s just to attend her sister’s cello practice, but things with her dad are strained. She’s angry that nothing has changed. He’s still a workaholic who has trouble putting his kids ahead of his job. Last week her dad invited her to family dinner at his place, and she’s been coming up with excuses not to go.