Page 102 of Hockey Wife

He nodded, her stoic man unable to verbalize, so she wrapped herself around the one person she’d missed during the hug fest. Even better, he let her, sinking into her like she was weighty enough to handle it. But then she always was the dependable one in the Goodwin family, the girl who could manage her own emotions so as not to steal focus from the people who needed attention. Like Dani.

Guilt pinched at her. Dani wasn’t to blame for Georgia not getting a little more Mom and Dad time. And she’d sure made up for those neglected years, hadn’t she?

She pulled back, realizing that she was using him to make herself feel better when he was the one who needed comfort. Just like that night in Vegas when she told him she didn’t want to say goodbye and reeled him in for a trip to the altar.

“You have to get ready for your trip.” Desperate to shift gears, she moved away and headed for the door. “And I probably should …”

He followed her inside. “You probably should what?”

“Pack up.”

His eyebrows crashed together. “Why the fuck would you want to do that?”

“Because your family is gone and I’m sure you’d like to get back to some sense of normal. When you come back, I’ll be out of your flow, and you can focus on what’s important.”

She had planned to be gone by the time he returned and not tell him before he left. But neither did she want to be sneaky about it.

“What about your parents?”

“We can worry about that later. It’s not as if they’re going to come visit. I thought that once we’d done this, for Connie and your family, you might be ready to … move on.”

He closed the gap between them quickly and held her face with both hands. “Do you want to leave?”

Never. “It’s what you need. For your game.”

“Georgia.” Her name on his lips was almost beseeching. “What I need right now is for my wife to tell me the truth.”

It wasn’t fair of him to use the W word, not when she was feeling sad.

“What do you need?”

Suddenly, this wasn’t about the bargain they’d struck. She didn’t want to keep lying to him—or to herself.

“I need … you.”

He released a pent-up breath, its warm puff a signal of intent against her lips. Which he claimed roughly, possessively. Her response was frenzied, a recognition by her body that they were finally alone—properly—and this couldn’t wait.

The kiss didn’t stop, not even as he lifted her onto a table in the foyer. Not even as her house keys fell to the floor with a clattering sound. Not even as she wrapped her legs around his waist and his hands grasped her ass, pulling her flush with his erection.

“You need me,” he panted. “And I need you. So fucking bad, Georgia.”

She didn’t doubt his sincerity. But he was also in a weird place, already missing his family, worried about his body holding up. She could do that for him, be the placeholder, while taking a little something for herself.

No more second-guessing. She curled a hand inside his sweatpants and pulled them down, freeing his thick cock. Wrapping a hand around it, she stroked roughly, just how he liked it. His groan was loud, echoing in the entryway and all the way to her pussy.

“Please, Dylan. Need?—”

He was already one step ahead of her. Leggings down, a hand shoved between her thighs. Two fingers stroked and drew her moan. His other hand pulled at her bottoms, forcing them down until she had to let go of him and finish the job of removing them.

With one hand on his cock, the other under her ass, he plunged inside her with a deep all-consuming thrust. He held her close for the longest moment, the most perfect moment, his mouth close to hers as he murmured her name. Georgia. Not any of the nicknames, just “Georgia.” His eyes were closed like the sight of her might be too painfully sweet to bear. She reached for his jaw and held him close as her body adjusted to his size. To everything Banks.

She squeezed one perfect butt cheek. He withdrew a few inches, then sank inside her again.

“Ohhh!”

His eyes snapped open, and in their depths, she saw desire and compassion and all the things she loved about this man. Her heart was beating like a hammer, just like the lyrics of that old Metric song, “Help, I’m Alive.”

She was. Finally. Banks had brought her back from a deep, dead place, but with new life came old fears.

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