Page 44 of Love on the Ice

I don’t stop moving. I can’t stop. My hips thrust hard and fast, searching for release and relief. My lower back tingles, and I know I’m close. Then my balls draw up, and my cum fills the condom, my cock twitching as I come. I groan.

The release startles me. I knew I was close, but it took me by complete surprise, rushing through me. I find myself still buried inside of her, my eyes wide as I stare at her from above her body.

Lorelai’s nails glide up my back. Then she cups my cheeks. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I wish I could. I want to reassure her of whatever doubts she has because I think that part of the reason she’s somewhat closed off is because she’s scared.

I need to continue to show her just how little she needs to be scared. Because I’m in this, wholly and fully. Lorelai is special. I can feel it in my bones. She is my person. We just have to keep moving forward. She’ll see it soon. I have to prove to her that I can handle every part of her. I know I can, but she has to see it, too.

Reluctantly, I pull out of her and roll onto my back. Sitting up, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and make my way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom as quickly as I can so I can hurry back to the bed.

Lorelai has the sheets pulled up over her chest as I dive straight into the bed. She squeals, though not too loudly. I reach out, wrap my arms around her, and pull her against my chest. She giggles, slinging her arm around my middle as she tilts her head backward to look up into my face.

Dipping my chin slightly, I search her face. She’s smiling. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes so goddamn bright. Beautiful. She’s stunning like this. I love the way she looks on a normal day, but this, in my bed, in my arms, after I’ve thoroughly fucked her—perfection.

“If I send you the link to get into the live feed, you wanna watch the game online?” I ask.

I feel like a fucking idiot for even asking, but when her eyes get even brighter, I know I did the right thing.

“I would love that,” she replies. “The girls would love it, too, I’m sure. We can put it on the television.” I hum, and her brows snap together as she looks at me with confusion. “What?” she asks.

“The girls can watch, that’s whatever, but I want my girl to watch.”

Chapter

Nineteen

LORELAI

The world feels a little darker, with the house across the street dark. Even though it’s only been a few weeks, I’ve become accustomed to having men in and out of the place throughout the day and even some of the night.

I know they’re only gone for a few days, but it makes my world a little duller.

They’ve left for their game tomorrow. One full day of travel, then an evening of rest before they play. Reid made sure to tell me that.

I feel like his girlfriend even though I know I’m not. But the way he said he wanted his girl to watch him made my heart squeeze and flip. The whole inside of my body flopped… every single organ.

I want it all to be true.

Letting out a sigh, I stare at the house. I don’t understand how I’ve allowed myself to be so affected by these men, but their presence, even if it’s just going in and out of the house, does something to me.

I start to move back, away from the window, when something… or rather someone catches the corner of my eye.

There, standing just to the side of the front yard, almost out of view, is a man I recognize. It’s my professor. I’ve tried to forget about his existence. I never planned on seeing him again, especially after finding him with Jill at the hotel. I just wanted to wipe his existence from my memory banks.

So, why is he standing just a few feet away, his head tipped back, and his eyes on me?

I tried to forget his name. Professor MacDonald stands in front of my house, and I realize I won’t be able to forget him. Because he won’t let me. My heart slams against my chest. I don’t have my phone in my hand to call anyone, and nobody is home for me to shout out to.

I’m alone.

Just me and my perverted ex-professor.

Neither of us moves, our eyes focused on one another’s, and then he does something that causes my breath to hitch. Just when I think that maybe, just maybe, I’m imagining him standing there, his lips curve up into a grin as he lifts his hand and waves.

He’s there, alright.

He’s real.

In the flesh.

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