Page 49 of Home Ice

I look up and into those dark eyes that captured me the instant I saw them. I want to tell her she'll never have to be fierce with me. As long as I'm around, I'll be her fierceness. But is it too much and too soon for her? Is it for me?

"What about you?" she asks. "Where are your tattoos? I've never seen them."

"I don't do tattoos. Hockey is the only thing I've ever wanted to be with me forever, and the bruises I get from being in net are enough tattoo for that."

Under the sheet, her hand glides against my stomach until she finds the waistband of my shorts. "Not even something you keep hidden from every one else?" She teases a finger under the elastic band.

Fuck me. My dick is so hard it hurts. "I need a shower."

"Want some company?" she asks.

A low moan slips out before I can stop it. I would love to soap down that body of hers and work on this erection together under a stream of hot water. I've certainly imagined it enough. "You're still supposed to stay off your foot today. Nice try."

She flicks her hand at me.

"Don't blame me. I didn't twist your ankle."

"You didn't do a lot of things last night. Or let me do them. You don't have to treat me like I'm broken, you know."

"It's not that. I just want to be careful. There will be time for everything."

"I would have had you pack my vibrator if I knew you were a tease."

Christ. Imagining that pretty face of hers all scrunched up as she holds the vibrator between her thighs is more than I can take right now. "Shower." I bolt out of the bed, keeping my back to her and my hands low so she can't see what she's doing to me. I think I hear her growl behind me, but I choose to believe it's Silver, even though I just saw that he's sound asleep in the recliner.

When I get into the shower, the water is so cold it takes my breath away, but it does nothing for the erection between my legs. It's still throbbing, begging me to let her touch it. That won’t happen, though. Not today. I let the water pour over me until I'm shivering, and I think of everything I can to drive those images of her from my mind. Puppies, gardening shows, that damn Modern Canadian Literature class that put me to sleep every single time, no matter how much I'd slept the night before. Finally, my dick compromises. It's still on a hair-trigger and ready to go off at the slightest provocation, but it's no longer so hard that pulling on a pair of underwear would be like trying to force a twin-size fitted sheet onto a king-size mattress.

After I dry off, I wrap the towel around me and head back out into my bedroom. I try to keep my head down until I have both underwear and pants on. I don't want to tempt my cock until it's firmly held in place. But that plan goes out the window when I see her sitting on the edge of my bed. Silver is crouched in front of her. Growling. This time it really is him, and for a second panic causes my pulse to skyrocket. But then I see Pinky gripped tight in his teeth while Lily is bent over trying to take it from him. They're just playing. My heart settles. I watch them for a minute. It seems like neither one of them wants to give in, but then Silver whips his head side-to-side, trying to shake Lily's grip. He accidentally slams the side of his head against her injured ankle. She yips and lets go of Pinky, and I'm at her side before Silver even knows that he's won.

"Careful. You need ice. And put that leg back up on the bed. It's important to keep it elevated." I lift her leg and set it on the mattress before smoothing the blanket over the top.

"Hey." She takes my hand to still me, and her eyes work down to my waist and back, a reminder I'm only wearing a towel. "Do I need to tell you how to hold your stick?"

I open and close my mouth several times as I try to answer her, but everything I want to say will cause me to be late for practice. If this were any other day, I wouldn't mind, but this is the last practice before opening day. And I'm already on Coach's list.

"Don't look at me like that. I meant when you're on the ice. Do I need to tell you how to do your job? No. So don't tell me how to do mine. I'm the expert in things like this."

I sit on the bed beside her. My hand is still in hers. "In other words, I should keep my mouth closed?" I joke.

"I would never say that. But I will say there are better things you could be doing with that very skilled mouth."

"Is that right?" I kiss her. It's been less than twenty-four hours, but doing this feels so natural. Breathing, heartbeats, kissing her. They're just things I do. And based on the way her lips open to let my tongue slip inside, it's natural to her too.

She presses her palm flat against the center of my chest and holds it there. I know she can feel the things she's doing to my heart. Maybe Coach wouldn't even notice if I came in late. It's partially his fault for that ridiculous obstacle course. But then I imagine sitting on the bench all season, watching Milo in net. "I have to go."

"I know." She doesn't drop her hand, and I don't move.

"It's the last practice before the season opener," I tell her like she's not already aware. "I have to be there."

"I know." Finally, she lowers her hand, but she doesn't take it from me. She trails it down my bare chest and stomach to my lap. It burns like she dropped a hot coal on me. "You know you can't tell anyone about this, right?"

I nod. "I promise you won’t lose your job because of me. I'd never let that happen. Never. Now, let me help you downstairs and get everything set up for you. I won't be gone long. I won't stay for cooldown or any treatment afterwards. Right home."

"You'll actually let me walk this morning and not carry me like some arrogant caveman?"

I stand and hold out my hand like I'm going to help her up, but before she can react, I lift her and fling her over my shoulder. "Good point. It's much safer for you this way."

"I hate you!" She screams as she slaps my back. "I am so going to get back at you for this."

---