Page 85 of Pucking Sweet

He nods.

I drop a hand down to stroke two fingers over the thick scar on his chest. He tenses, holding himself still. I let him see in my eyes that I don’t pity him. I don’t see him as weak or damaged because of these scars. He’s strong. He’s poised and perfect, and I’ve wanted him for so long now, longer than I think even I knew.

He talks of first impressions? Well, he left one on me. I remember the first time we met too. How could anyone forget Colton Morrow? The Capitals practice was just finishing, and he skated up to the boards, pulling his helmet off as he slid to a stop. He smiled downat me, and my heart flipped. I remembered then thinking he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen—and then I promptly put my fluttering heart in a box and closed the lid. I had a job to do and people to impress and I don’t get involved with my players.

Always work.

Always obligations and expectations.

Well, what has that gotten me? I’m twenty-seven and alone, chasing this man in my dreams, too afraid to want him in real life. Too afraid to risk it. I press my palm over his scar, covering it with my hand.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, trying to get closer, looking for his way in.

My eyes trace the shape of my fingers against the dark canvas of his skin. The truth comes unbidden, and I speak it into the air between us. “I think I’ve been a ghost.”

“What do you mean?”

I look up. “I mean I’ve been going through the motions of my life for so long now without actually living. Or if Iwasliving, I was living for others. I was following their rules, making their dreams mine.”

Hunger burns in his eyes. I’ve never felt so wanted before. And there are no conditions with Colton, no expectations. It’s just a gift he’s offering me, reflected in his every look and touch. Colton Morrowwantsme, and he’s not ashamed to admit it. “And now?” he asks.

I brush my fingers over his perfect lips. “Now, I think it’s time I finally start living for myself.”

He smiles, kissing my fingertips. “And how do you do that?”

I return his smile. “By doing what I want for a change, not only what’s expected.”

“And what do you want, Poppy?”

“I already told you.”

“I want to hear you say it again.”

“I want you.”

He lowers his face on a sigh until our foreheads touch. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I want you,” I say again. “I dream of you, Colton. I have for years.”

“Fuck.” He kisses me, his hands roving. I bite back a whimper as he pulls away, lowering his face to my neck. Breathing me in, his tongue starts to tease, setting me on fire. I tip my head to the side, giving him more of me to taste.

“I’ve been chasing you too,” I admit. “Too afraid to want you, but I can’t get you out of my head.”

He kisses up my neck to my ear, nipping the lobe. His breath is warm as he whispers, “Tell me what you dream about.”

I swallow my nerves. “Umm…”

I’ve never felt like I’m particularly good at talking during sex. And I’ve never reallyfeltsexy. Pretty, yes. But sexy requires a different energy. It’s power and confidence. I think it requires the determination totake, and I’ve always been more of a giver in the bedroom.

“Talk to me,” Colton says, his hands cupping my breasts as he kisses below my ear.

I cling to his arms. For him, I want to try. I turn my head until I’m the one speaking in his ear. “You kissing me like this,” I begin. “Your hands on me…”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

He reaches behind my back and slowly works open the zipper of my dress. With gentle hands, he peels it off my shoulders, exposing my white lacy bra. “What else happens in your dreams?”

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