Rachel wasn’t on the bench tonight. Did she see any of the game? God, I hope she did. I can’t help it. I’m that guy who wants his girl in the stands, wearing his jersey, cheering him on, making heart eyes through the plexiglass.
I make my escape from the press area. As I head towards the locker room, I pass Avery. “Hey man, you seen Doctor Price around?”
“Do I look like her keeper?” he replies, stalking off.
I shake my head. That guy always has a burr up his ass about something. Some of the guys are starting to complain. Langley won’t even use him anymore. Shrugging it off, I turn down another hallway and that’s when I see her. Rachel is coming out a doorway at the end of the hall with a box of supplies in her hands.
“Hey,” I call out.
Her tired expression vanishes as she sees me, her face lighting up. “Hey! You played so amazing tonight, Jake. Really—”
I silence her with a kiss, wrapping both my arms around her as I crunch whatever she’s holding between us.
“Jake—” she gasps against my lips. “Someone will see.”
“I don’t care,” I growl. “I’m tired of hiding. Tired of pretending I’m not with you when I am.”
“Jake,” she sighs. “We’ve talked about this—”
“No talking,” I grunt, pressing my lips to hers again. “Not now. Kiss me like I just single-handedly won an NHL game.”
She laughs against my lips. “You feeling pretty good? Are you the big man tonight?”
My hands rove, one slipping inside the back of her pants as the other cups her face. “Seattle, I need you,” I say, dropping my face to her neck and breathing her in. God, she smells so good. We do our laundry together now, so our clothes have begun to smell the same. Whatever detergent we use, now I smell it every time I pull on a t-shirt. It’s her, it’s me. It’sus. And I’ll never get enough.
“We’re at work,” she chastises, balancing her little box of tape and bandages.
“I don’t fucking care. Baby, I need you. Need to be inside you.” I press her against me so she can feel just how serious I am.
“Jake…” She says my name like a sigh and a prayer, and I need to hear it again. I need to be inside her when she says it.
Things have been so crazy this week with all our conflicting schedules and games. We’re out of sync and I hate it. I need her. I need us to be in sync again.
She pushes against my shoulders. “We’re in a hallway.”
“Then think fast, because I’m not stopping,” I growl, my hand diving up under her shirt to cup her breast over her bra.
She gasps, her box of supplies dropping to the floor. The bandages rattle as the tapes roll away. “Jake—”
“I want you so goddamn much,” I groan. “I need you, Seattle. Miss you. Need to fuck you.Now.”
“Oh god,” she gasps. “Come on.”
Grabbing my hand, she pulls me back down the little hallway to the door that leads through into a storage room. Several rows of metal shelves house all kinds of equipment from first aid to cleaning supplies to boxes and boxes of skate laces and stick tape. A pile of old sticks is stacked in the corner, and a few rows of goalie nets are stacked up, some missing the netting.
The door shuts behind us and she’s turning in my arms, her hands going up around my neck. “You feeling good tonight?”
“So fucking good,” I mutter, my lips chasing hers.
“Yeah? You want to ride your adrenaline high a little longer?” she teases, her hand dipping into my shorts to cup my rock-hard dick. “Wanna fuck me, angel?”
“Every hour of every day,” I groan, shoving my hand up under her shirt to unhook her bra. That gives me a bit more wiggle room to cup her breasts. Flipping her Rays polo shirt up with her bra, I expose her peaked nipple and sink my mouth around it with a groan, flicking and teasing her the way I know she likes.
“Take me, Jake,” she pants, shimmying her pants halfway down her thighs and putting my hand between her legs. “Fucking own me. Show me why I’m yours.”
“Fuck,” I growl, my fingers sliding through her wetness. I slow down, taking a breath with my eyes closed as I just let myself feel her. Her presence, her warm breath on my cheek, the heat of her core. From the first moment we met in Seattle, it hasn’t faded for me, this feeling of rightness, this feeling of wanting to be where she is.
She’s my girl.Mine. And I’m hers. And I’m done hiding.