Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Wait! Fuck no… it won’t ever get better than Winnie.
Regardless, I let it go as I lead her back down to the ice level and through the tunnel. I open the wooden gate and she plants her feet at the edge, pulling back against me. “I’m not going on the ice. It’s slick and I’ll fall and probably split my pants and that’s not a sexy look and then you’ll dump me.”
I bark out a laugh and tug her forward. “Stop being a drama queen. I’m a pro on the ice, after all. I’m not going to let you fall and split your pants.”
She comes without hesitation, confirming what I already knew—that she trusts me. We carefully walk along the perimeter, one of her hands on the boards and the other clutching mine. We get to the Titans’ bench and I lift her up and over the short wall and then follow behind her.
We sit and she leans forward, crossing her forearms along the boards. “It’s so quiet,” she observes. “Some might say eerie, but it’s peaceful. And the hush is so at odds with the noise of a game. Almost otherworldly.”
“And you say you’re not good with words,” I tease, rubbing her back.
We sit together at the edge of the ice, quiet. She studies everything, lifting her gaze to the stands and bending back to check out the rafters and hanging banners and retired jerseys.
“I was terrified the first time I stepped on this rink,” I say, staring out over the ice. I feel her eyes on me. “Felt like the lights were going to swallow me. But I skated out anyway. I survived. I got stronger. And I built a life here.” I glance over at her. “I want to build something with you too. Off the ice. In the real world.”
Winnie doesn’t respond right away. She just turns to me, eyes luminous. She leans in and kisses me.
It’s soft. Slow. Certain.
Her hands curl into my jacket and I pull her gently into my lap, arms wrapped around her waist.
We sit like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, both of us fully accepting that something deep and real has settled between us.
Eventually, she whispers, “You’re not going to start reading me old hockey stats now, are you?”
I laugh, brushing a kiss to her jaw. “Nope. But if you want me to tell you the first time I ever scored in this building, I could make it sound really dirty.”
She groans and snuggles into my neck. With her warmth pressed close, the arena around us silent and still, I understand what’s most important.
No camera. No likes. No noise.
“You about ready to go?” I ask, and she lifts her head.
“Where are we going now?”
I grin at her mischievously. “I’m taking you to Orgasm Town.”
CHAPTER 27
Lucky
I think it’s safe to say that most men aren’t all up in their feelings much of the time. It’s true that mine have always centered around my family and hockey.
But sitting on the ice with Winnie, baring our souls… it created something inside me that I can’t quite name. I feel charged and there’s a magnetic heat swirling around us.
It’s why Buttermilk is secured in his pen so he can’t get destructive while we’re otherwise occupied. It feels like a live wire snaps between us whenever I kiss her.
Her lips open to me, her tongue tangling with mine, and every part of me roars to life with a hunger I couldn’t fake if I tried.
Her bed is the center of the action, the blanket long ago pushed to the floor. I frame her face with both hands, kissing her like I need her to breathe. Her hands roam over my chest and stomach, my muscles tightening as she traces the lines of my abs. The anticipation of her touching my cock is heightened when her fingers drag back up. Such a tease and it does something feral to me. Her touch is seductively bold and painfully coy, and I want more of it.
All of it.
I grip her hips and haul her tight against me. She gasps when my body presses flush with hers, my arousal landing right where she’s already warm and wanting. That sound she makes, like she’s desperate, shoots straight through me.
“Lucky,” she moans.
“What do you need?” I whisper, nipping at her jaw.
“I don’t know,” she gasps, squirming in my embrace.
I know and I’ll give it to her.
We kiss harder, more frantically—each pause just long enough to whisper dirty words. My shirt hits the floor, then her tank top. She fights with my jeans, her feet helping to shove them down, and I laugh into her mouth when we nearly topple off the bed in our urgency. Every time a barrier comes off, we dive right back in, kissing like we’ve never had anything so good in our lives.