Page 55 of The Love You Win

“You’ve come to my rescue a few times now,” she says quietly. “Maybe some people don’t take the time to see it, but it’s pretty obvious you’re a good guy.”

My throat tightens at the earnestness in her voice, and my heart thumps away in my chest. “What if I just want you to think that?”

She huffs out a soft laugh. “No, you wanted me to think you were a selfish jerk.”

Fair enough. I had. Not anymore, though. Now I want her to see me for who I truly am, and that’s a terrifying thought. The only people who fully see me are my mom, sister, and the guys. Back before I started playing professional hockey, I never worried about letting someone see the real me. No more than anyone else worries, at any rate. But that changed as soon as I signed that contract with all those zeros.

Maybe it’s naïve, but I don’t think Isla gives a damn about my money.

She watches me with a smirk, her hand still in mine.

“And you don’t think I’m a selfish jerk?”

She hums and wiggles her head from side to side. “Mmm, you could still prove me wrong, but no. I don’t think that’s who you are.”

“Thanks for giving me a second chance.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have,” she says with a devious twinkle in her eyes. “But then you almost made what’s-his-name at the bar pee himself, and I decided you’d earned it.”

My laughter fills the car as we pull into her apartment building lot. Isla shifts in her seat, her gaze pinging between her apartment and me. She’s nervous. “Can I walk you to your door?”

That pretty pink stains her cheeks again. “Sure.”

I park in an open visitor spot and reluctantly release her hand. I’m around the car and opening her door before she can do it herself, and her blush deepens. Offering her my hand, I help her step out of the SUV, making sure she keeps her balance in her heels. Our fingers intertwine as we make our way to the building entrance. Her hand is so small and warm in mine. Delicate. It makes the caveman part of my brain want to protect her from everything and everyone that might hurt her. It’s the part of me that lights up when an opposing team’s agitator starts chirping at one of my teammates and gets in their head. The part of me that slams any threat into the boards with forceful precision and zero hesitation.

We walk up to the third floor in silence. Warmth fills me as Isla presses close to my side, her head resting on my shoulder. “Tired?”

She blinks slowly a couple of times and nods. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Come on then, Short-Stack.” I tug at her hand and lead her toward her apartment as she huffs in annoyance at the nickname.

“I’m not that short.”

“Compared to me, you are. You’re so cute and little.” That earns me an elbow to my side, and I laugh. I love riling her up.

“Laugh it up, you giant ogre,” she mumbles while fishing her keys out of her purse.

“I am giant.” I smirk as her eyes widen. This time, her blush goes all the way down to her pale chest. Before she can put her key in the lock, I press her back against the door. One hand goes to her hip, the other tangles in her long red hair at the base of her skull. Isla’s breathing picks up as I invade her space, my head dropping so my lips hover over hers. It’s a struggle not to push my hips into her as her nipples harden through her dress and brush against my chest with every heaving breath. “See?” I murmur. “So damned cute, and little enough to cover with my body.”

Isla’s eyes are wide and her lips part with jagged breaths. I bet if I skimmed my fingers up the inside of her creamy thighs and pressed them beneath the fabric of her panties, I’d find her dripping for me. But I won’t do that. Not yet. Instead, I lower my lips so they hover millimeters away from hers. Holding her gaze, I silently ask for permission to kiss her. But Isla’s the one to bridge the gap between us.

Her mouth is heaven. Soft, full lips move against mine in a sensual dance. When I sweep my tongue along the seam of her mouth, she opens for me with a gasp. She tastes like cherries and champagne, and she’s soft everywhere she presses against me. I groan when her breasts rub against my chest, deepening our kiss.

It’s intoxicating. The taste of her. The feel of her. My dick is painfully hard, and when I lose myself in the sensation of kissing this gorgeous woman, I forget my efforts to keep from grinding into her. She gasps again as my erection presses against her lower belly and her hips roll.

Holy hell.

A quiet whimper passes from her open mouth to mine and I fist her hair harder, tugging on it just enough to angle her head the way I want to deepen the kiss. This kiss that I never want to end.

Delicate fingers play nimbly over my chest and arms as my own grip her hip. It’s torture, being touched by her like this. Because all I want is to demand she open the door and let me in so I can rip her clothes off, spread her out on her bed, and feast on her pussy until she’s writhing with so much pleasure she can barely whimper my name.

I loosen my grip on her hip and slow our kiss. I can’t screw this up because I’m thinking with my smaller head. I want more than one night of great sex with this woman.

She chases my lips as I pull away, resting my forehead against hers. Our chests brush together as we both suck in great gulps of air. At least I’m not the only one deeply affected, if her grip on my jacket is anything to go by.

The hallway is silent except for our heavy breathing as we stare at one another. She’s so beautiful. Flushed cheeks, wide, glassy blue eyes, and lips swollen from our fevered kisses. It’s a sight I want to enjoy again and again. And hopefully, I will. If I play my cards right with her.

Straightening, I press a lingering kiss on her forehead and brush my knuckles across her cheek. “Goodnight, beautiful. Call you tomorrow?”

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