Page 106 of Making the Save

It was glorious. Amazing. It was like watching her grow wings. Real wings. It was like watching her grow twenty feet tall.

It was like falling in love.

21

Sydney Malloy and Wyatt Locke are back from the honeymoon.

Now, can they handle real life?

Celebrity Truth

Sydney

Ihad no sense of time. Only that it was late. The room was dark, the white noise of the waves outside my door was familiar and beloved.

Tomorrow was the award ceremony, and after that…nothing. I mean, I had appointments and meetings lined up. I was going into the studio with Marc who was so excited to get to work on the new stuff. I was excited too. I really was.

But mostly, I was sad. Like, pull the covers over my head and hide from the world sad. Ice cream andLove Actuallyon repeat sad.

Suddenly, I heard my bedroom door open and I knew I wasn’t alone. A few seconds later I felt the bed dip and thefamiliar beefy arms of a defenseman hockey player slip around me and pull me up against his furry chest.

I felt his beard nestle in my neck, felt his breath in my ear.

“I thought, maybe, I should do a critter check. I’ll leave if you want-”

I clutched his hand. Tomorrow was the award show and after that we were over. “I don’t want,” I said.

“Until the end,” he murmured. “We stay together to the end.”

I held his hand against my body and said the words that I might regret later, but in this bed, in these final hours, I couldn’t regret anything.

“Wyatt,” I whispered. “Just thought…maybe you’d want to know…my period is over.”

He knew what I was telling him and I knew this was a mistake. It would only make the days when he was gone harder. For sure. But I’d worry about it later.

Not tonight. Tonight was about Wyatt.

And goodbye.

“Fuck, Syd,” he groaned against my neck. “Are you sure?”

“So sure.”

He slid under the covers as he made his way down my body. Soft touches on places he now knew would illicit a response. Kisses on my hip bones. He licked my belly button. He pushed my legs apart, moving my thighs so they were draped over his shoulders.

I arched my back when his tongue slid along my clit. He knew exactly how to touch me. How to start slow and soft. Teasing. And then rougher. Firmer. Until I was gasping and crying for him. Only then would he fuck me. When I was begging and so wet it dripped from my body.

His finger found that spot deep inside me that made me wild and stroked it.

“Wyatt, don’t. I’ll come.”

But he was stubborn and when he wanted something he was relentless.

“That’s what I want,” he said, tossing the covers back so I could see him between my legs. His mouth wet with my arousal. “Come for me, baby.”

I shook my head and bit my bottom lip as if I could will away my orgasm.

Because what I wanted was important too, and I wanted him deep inside me. When he was on top of me, he blocked out the entire planet. There was only his body, his chest, his arms, his heavy erection inside me, pushing me into the bed. That’s what I wanted.

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