Page 42 of Pucks and Coffee

My name.

Eliza.

Not McDavid or Wife, but Eliza.

My name on his lips has me coming harder than ever, and I don’t know how that’s even possible. I squeeze him tightly, and he groans as he stills inside me. His hips jerk against my thighs once, then twice, before he traps my head between his hands on the bed. He slides his nose along mine, brushes over my cheek, and trails kisses down my jaw to my throat, where he nuzzles.

His tenderness is overwhelming, and I feel tears pricking at my eyes. I don’t know why, though. Who cries after sex? I won’t. I can’t. I squeeze my eyes shut as his body collapses against mine. He is hot, heavy, and I love every bit of it. He is still throbbing inside me, and I never want to feel anything else in my life but what I’m feeling right now.

Completion.

I stretch my neck for him as he trails kisses and nibbles along my heated skin. He kisses my collarbone, then down to my one exposed breast. He grips it, molding it in his hand before sucking my nipple in his mouth. Doing so has me clenching his spent cock, and he hisses around my nipple. I grin as I thread my fingers through his hair, squeezing my thighs around his hips. He travels back up my body, kissing and nibbling, before he captures my mouth. His kiss is desperate, rough, and as our tongues slide along each other, I’m lost in everything that is Coleson Katz.

I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close while our mouths dance and play. When we come up for air, we’re both panting and our eyes lock. Tenderness and heat swirl in his eyes but also some hesitation. “Regrets?” I ask, and I hate how scared I am of his answer.

“Loads,” he jokes, mimicking my response from the previous day. I grin, and his lips curve up in a devastating way. “None,” he admits, pressing the tip of his nose to mine. “None at all.”

“Good,” I say, twirling the hair at the back of his neck in my fingers.

“I am worried, though, Wife,” he whispers against my lips, and I frown.

“About?”

He falls to my side, gathering me in his arms as his cock presses into my belly. “I was trying not to get physical with you since I don’t want your family’s prediction to come true. I don’t want to break you.”

I gaze into his eyes. “It’s inevitable.”

His lips turn down. “Don’t say that.”

I shrug. “It’s the truth, and I’ve been honest with you from the beginning. I’ve always been attracted to you and had hoped I’d catch your eye. I know I’ll fall for you, Coleson. I’m already expecting to.”

“Don’t,” he says roughly, holding me closer. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“Why?” I find myself asking, searching his eyes for answers I don’t think he has.

His eyes stare into mine, and then they fall shut as he nuzzles his nose to mine. He presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “I just can’t.”

“I won’t hurt you,” I whisper back. “I’m not like your mom.”

He freezes, and I know I’ve said too much. He shakes his head and then kisses the side of my mouth. “No more of that,” he says, kissing my nose, and my heart stills in my chest. “We’ve got some time before dinner. Let me train you a bit in the coffeehouse. Come on now.”

He kisses me again, and then he rolls off the bed without another look at me. As I watch him head to the bathroom to clean up, I can’t help but wonder what is holding him back. Surely he knows I’m nothing like his mother. That I wouldn’t hurt him even if I could. That we fit together like we were made in the stars just for each other. That if we were in a romance novel, we’d be fated mates. At least, that’s how it feels after being on the receiving end of his attention. Maybe I’m just in the afterglow, fully sated for the time being. Though, I can’t help but want more. I want all of Coleson Katz, every single part, but I don’t know if he’ll allow that to happen.

Surely I can find a way to change his mind about making this marriage not fake at all.

But real instead and all ours.

CHAPTER 23

Coleson

The crowd is electric as I haul ass up the ice.

All the tickets were free tonight for the last preseason game before the regular season starts. Everyone is decked out in orange and black, and they’re chanting, “Let’s go Bears.” I love it, and with each chant, I feel a bolt of energy to score for the fans. They’ve come out with bells and whistles, and I want them to be proud of their home team. As I battle in front of the goal with the defensemen from the IceMen, I watch as our defensemen pass the puck back and forth. Evangelina is trying to find an opening, while Andrews is posted up in the right circle. Walther, our defenseman, can’t get the puck to either of us because of the coverage by the other team.

I push off the defenseman I’m battling and skate to the middle. Walther sends the puck to me, and I redirect it to Andrews with ease—and much to his coverage’s surprise. The puck hits his blade with precision. Andrews dekes left, passing the puck ahead and ultimately to himself. It’s just him and the goalie, and when he goes top shelf, the goal lamp lights up. I throw my hands up, as do the rest of the boys, while the crowd loses their damn minds. We skate to Andrews, hugging and tapping gloves, though, as always, Andrews doesn’t even acknowledge me.

Bastard.

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