Page 59 of The Love You Win

Maddox is already planning dates for us well into the future, and my heart does a little leap.

“That was amazing,” I gush once we’re back in his car and heading home toward the city. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Me neither.” He intertwines our fingers. “That was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

I giggle at that. It certainly was a better first date than our practice dinner. Hell, if Maddox had been this sweet and attentive that night, we could be on our fifth or sixth date by now. But I can’t regret how things happened.

“I’m not ready for it to end,” I confess. I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you want to come back to my place? We could grab some takeout or something and hang out.”

Maddox’s fingers squeeze mine. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling when we pull up to my apartment building. Maddox had been telling me stories about all the trouble he and his sister got into as kids. It makes me want to meet her. It also makes me fall a little harder for the tall, tough hockey player. With every new story, it becomes clear that Maddox isn’t as tough and grumpy as he pretends. He’s kind and loyal and he loves his mom and sister.

We pass one of my neighbors on the way into the building and she gives him an appraising look. She recognizes him but can’t place why or where she’s seen him before. Other than that, we don’t encounter another soul. No one pulls us out of our little bubble and we spill into my apartment in a cloud of laughter and casual touches.

Touches that become less casual once the door clicks shut and I engage the lock. It’s a force of habit as a single woman living in the city, but with Maddox here, the sharp click seems to hold a new weight. It’s a reminder that we’re alone—really alone—for the first time.

I’m not sure who takes the first step to close the distance between us, but in moments we’re colliding in a tangle of lips and limbs. His hands skim along my spine, and mine grip his shoulders, leaving trails of heat wherever we touch. His tongue skates along the seam of my lips before delving inside my mouth. Each stroke and movement is precise and skillful, and I know his talents with that tongue extend far beyond kissing me better than anyone else ever has. It makes my core clench, and I reach up to tangle one hand in his hair, deepening the kiss.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans as one hand sneaks under the hem of my sweatshirt and the tee beneath to span the bare skin of my side. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He swallows my moan as I press against him. His touch short-circuits my brain, and all I can think about is feeling more of his warmth against my bare flesh. I let go of his shoulder to wrap my free arm around his neck, and then Maddox lifts me up as though I weigh nothing. My legs go around his waist, and fire flares in my center when it rubs against the hard length of him straining against his jeans.

“Maddox,” I groan between fevered kisses. It’s just one word, just his name, but he hears the request in it.

“What do you need, baby?”

I point to my room, unable to form words. Well, I could probably form words, but if I open my mouth right now, it’ll be to demand that he fuck me, and I’d like to play this a little cooler than that.

Still carrying me, Maddox crosses my apartment. He peppers my neck and lips with kisses as he pushes through my partially closed door and into my bedroom. He only takes a moment to survey the space. It’s on the smaller side, but it’s tidy.

A soft blue and white shibori patterned comforter covers the queen-sized bed. It contrasts with the light rattan headboard and the plush white carpet. My laptop and notebooks filled with lesson plan ideas clutter my desk, as well as photos of me, Jess, Nevaeh, and a few of my parents. It’s cozy and homey and a bit on the eclectic side.

I shift my weight in his hold. He groans and brings his eyes back to me. A wicked grin tilts my lips and I roll my hips again. I want him to make that sound again. I want to feel every hard inch of him pressed against my aching center. This time, we both groan.

“Isla,” he warns. “Keep that up, and I’m going to throw you down on this bed and bury myself in you.”

I roll my hips again. My breathless words make his eyes flare with heat. “Is that a warning, or a promise?”

One of his hands moves to the back of my neck, squeezing lightly. His eyes don’t leave mine. “Are you sure?”

God, yes. I’m very sure. And very glad Louise fit me in for a bikini wax. I’m also so turned on by his touch and his kisses and the feeling of his body against mine that I’m painfully aware of how long it’s been since I’ve had sex. Even the slightest bit of friction has my panties flooding.

Fathomless eyes the color of earth search my face. Whatever he sees has him nodding to himself. Then he carefully lowers my back to the bed. Strong arms cage me in, and his legs force mine to spread wide so he can stand between where they’re splayed over the edge of the mattress. He kisses me deeply before his lips move down the column of my neck.

With every ragged breath, my desire rises. His long fingers drag the zipper of my hoodie down so he can pull the sleeves off of my arms. Once that’s off, I sit up to remove my tee, but his hands halt mine. Maddox’s eyes burn as he pins me in place.

“Let me.”

Wordlessly, I relent. His movements are slow and controlled as he glides the hem of my shirt higher and higher. I arch my back as his knuckles graze my lace-covered breasts. And then my shirt is gone, and Maddox stares at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And for the first time, I don’t feel self-conscious about having a new man see me in such a vulnerable way.

“You’re stunning,” he murmurs, running his large hands across my bare shoulders and down my sternum. The motions are akin to worship, and my skin pebbles with goosebumps. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Maddox.” I gasp as his fingers skim my tight nipples.

That devastatingly handsome face of his breaks into a satisfied smile at my breathy plea. I need him to touch me more. I need him to touch me everywhere.

“Patience,” he whispers, before pressing open-mouthed kisses to my collarbone. I moan when his mouth moves down to the swell of my breasts and his fingers tug at the cups of my bra. He hums in satisfaction as I spill out of them. My nipples are painfully hard now, demanding his attention. It’s attention he willingly gives.

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