Page 38 of The Pucking Player

As I watch her sleep, it hits me like a check into the boards: I’m falling for Sophie Novak.

Hard.

It should send me running for the hills. Instead, I’m lying here, grinning like an idiot, actually looking forward to whatever comes next.

Sophie’s eyes flutter open, confusion giving way to a sleepy smile that does funny things to my insides.

“Good morning,” she mumbles.

“Morning, angel,” I say, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Ready for the winter wonderland?”

She groans. “Five more minutes?”

I feel lighter than I have in years. “Whatever you say, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

Just as I’m contemplating how we could spend those five more minutes, a soft knock on the door shatters the moment. Sophie bolts upright, eyes wide, looking like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The blanket pools at her waist, exposing the smooth expanse of her stomach and two perky round mounds pointing at me and begging to be touched. My eyes can’t help but look at her chest, my cock turning to stone.

I sigh and pick up my crumpled shirt from the floor. Putting it on, my eyes snap to her mouth before they meet her startled gaze. As she realizes what’s happening, shegrabs the blanket in panic, sliding back into the pillows and covering her head.

“Relax, angel,” I chuckle.

She lets out an adorable muffled groan from under the covers, her head burrowed underneath.

“It’s probably the sweet old couple who thinks we’re engaged,” I try to reassure her. “They’re expecting us to be naked doing whatever people do when they are naked.”

Sophie emerges from under the blanket, her cheeks flushed in a delicious shade of pink. I file that image away for later.

“Besides,” I add, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, “I locked the door last night. Wouldn’t want any, ah, interruptions.”

I spot my boxers and pants on the floor and pull them on too, very aware of Sophie’s eyes on me. I flex a little as I stand up.

Hey, can’t blame a guy for showing off the goods, right?

“Like what you see?” I flash her a cocky grin over my shoulder as I head to the door.

Sophie makes a choking sound that’s between embarrassment and...something else. Something that makes me want to forget about whoever’s at the door and climb right back into that bed.

But I unlock the door and crack it open, making sure to block the view into the room. No need to give the sweet old innkeepers a heart attack at the sight of a naked goddess.

“Good morning!” Martha’s cheerful voice greets me. “I hope we’re not disturbing you lovebirds, but we wanted to let you know breakfast is only until ten. The storm’s passed, but the roads are still being cleared. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need!”

I give her my most charming smile. “Thanks, Martha. We’ll be down soon.”

“Oh, and before I forget,” she adds, holding out a small pile of neatly folded clothes, “I thought your fiancée might need something more comfortable to wear. Can’t have the poor dear stuck in her evening gown in this cold.”

I take the clothes, torn between appreciation for Martha’s thoughtfulness and a fleeting desire to keep Sophie naked in bed all day. Maybe I’d give her my shirt if she insisted on wearingsomething. “That’s incredibly kind of you, Martha. I’m sure Sophie will appreciate it.”

She winks at me. “It’s no trouble at all, dear. You two enjoy yourselves now. Don’t rush on our account.”

I can practically feel Sophie’s embarrassment radiating from across the room.

“We’ll do our best,” I say, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice. “See you a bit later.”

As I close the door and turn back to Sophie, I grin at her mortified expression. She’s sitting up in bed, the blanket clutched to her chin this time, her eyes like saucers.

“Well, fiancée,” I say, tossing the clothes on the bed and enjoying the way she squirms at the word, “looks like we’ve got some time to kill. Any ideas?”

She looks at me with utter horror as I take off my pants and shirt and slowly lower myself on the bed, gently pulling at the blanket she’s holding onto for dear life. After a few tugs, she hesitantly releases it, letting it settle around her waist. I lock my eyes on hers, cupping the soft, heavy weight of her breasts, brushing my thumb over the hard nubs. I caress them in small circles that pull a groan from her mouth.

---