Page 26 of What If We Do

“Shit. Fuck, Scarlett, your pussy is clenching around me. Shit. I’m…” His muscles tense and he begins to shake above me. As his body stiffens and he releases inside me, he cocoons my upper body in his arms, holding me against him. His moan one of the most satisfying sounds I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing.

“You, Scarlett Dayne, are an amazingly wonderful woman.”

“And amazingly sweaty,” I tell him with a smile. I’m not exactly sure where to go from here. Is he planning to stay? To go? If this is also his hotel, what’s the harm in sleeping here tonight with me? To try and prolong his stay as much as possible, I ask him what he’s thinking.

He grins. “I’m game for round two in the shower if you are.”

I climb over him until I’m straddling his lap. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He spanks my ass lightly and then lifts me easily from the bed, carrying me into the shower. “Let’s get wet and make a lot of noise.”

Chapter 8

Oliver

I have to go.

I may miss my flight as it is.

But she’s just so fucking beautiful. Awake and smiling or asleep and comfortable like she is now, she’s breathtakingly gorgeous and I don’t want to have to stop looking at her. Once she fell asleep last night, I stayed awake as long as humanly possible so I could run my fingers through her hair and watch her breathe against me. Sleep against me.

It felt wonderful.

But our time has come to an end and I have to get to Chicago.

Not wanting to be the cause of broken hearts or mixed feelings, I quietly slide out of bed and into my regular clothes. I don’t even brush my teeth. I’ll do it at the airport. I don’t want to wake her. Before I grab my bags and head out, I grab a pen and the small notebook from the hotel room desk and scribble a note for her so she doesn’t feel like I carelessly walked out on her.

I would never do that.

I couldn’t do that.

But waking her to say goodbye might crush me and I’m already grieving the loss of what she feels like in my arms as it is.

Leaving my note on my pillow for her, I take one last look at my beautiful bride and then quietly open the door and slip out. Once in the car I think back on all the fun we had together yesterday and the passionate lust-filled night we had last night.

Leaving Scarlett this morning to fly to Chicago is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a long time. I knew if I didn’t leave before she woke up, I would never want to say goodbye. Having her fall asleep in my arms after the best four roundsof sex I have ever experienced in my life was a fucking dream. Her softness, her warmth, the way she smiled at me after every orgasm, like she’s always known I would show up in her life and show her how she deserves to be loved, made me feel like I had a purpose. And for the first time since I can remember, she had me wondering what life outside of hockey could look like.

What life with her could look like.

Hopefully, she’ll forgive me for my chicken scratch of a note I left for her. She has my phone number so she does have the ability to text me, though I haven’t heard anything from her yet today. I should be glad for that, I suppose, but then what if I hurt her by not saying goodbye? What if she woke up and saw she was alone and went right back to feeling like she did on her wedding day?

Fuck.

Nothing was supposed to happen between us. We were two adults spending a fun evening together. That was the deal.

So why do I feel this overwhelming sense of loss?

“What’s the matter with you?” my sister asks me from the other end of the couch.

“What? What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re not your regular self.”

“In what way?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You just seem…down.”

Milo pipes in from the kitchen. “Probably because he knows we’re going to kick their asses tomorrow night.”

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