Page 69 of Stick Break
“I like it,” I whisper, letting my lips brush over the ink. “Where did you get it done.”
“I was at this dive bar in San Diego…” I cock my head and she blinks like she’s rethinking the story and how much to tell me. “Anyway, I met this tattoo artist. His work was beautiful.”
“I’ve always thought about getting a tattoo, but I might be a chickenshit,” I half joke.
“Don’t people who play hockey take a pounding all the time?”
I stare at her, my brain racing. Am I a fool for thinking, or hoping, she doesn’t know I play in the NHL. But it’s clear from the way she worded her question, that she’s keeping my secret if she does know. Just like I’m keeping her secret.
“A pounding is one thing. A needled.” I stop to cringe.
“Don’t be a baby.”
“Hey, I’m not baby bear, Goldilocks.”
She laughs. “Right. Well, if you do decide, and you happen to find yourself in San Diego, I personally vouch for Raze at Rogue Ink.”
“Rogue Ink,” I murmur. “I guess that’s why you liked it. You related, huh?” She nods and I run my finger over the tattoo before pressing my lips to her thigh. “Raze did an amazing job and this suits you. Beautiful, strong, a woman who knows what she wants.”
Her smile falter and my heart wobble as I take in the tears threatening to spill. “I thought I knew what I wanted…but now, I’m a little lost.” I stare at her, not knowing what to say, how to make this better. Before I can, she continues, “What’s on the agenda today, Rip?” she asks, injecting enthusiasm into her voice that I don’t think she feels, but it’s a sign that she needs to move on from the hurt. I get it. This time together is about forgetting. “Stretches? Sun? Sand? Sailing?”
“There might be one ‘S’ word you’re forgetting,” I say, lifting a brow as I try to lighten the mood.
She smirks, eyes twinkling. “Sunshine, of course. How could I ever forget sunshine?”
I laugh, and something about her smile, the quiet between us, the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers, it makes me wish that fairy tales really were true.
I laugh and drag her beneath me. My lips find hers for a deep, kiss and the next thing I know, my cock is inside her and she’s chanting my name. “Goddammit, I plan to make you come every day until we have to leave her.”
As her body clenches around my dick, I release inside her, and we both hug each other, like sex in the morning is something we do every day, and well…we will. Until this is over.
“Oh, wait,” she teases. “That other ‘s’ word was sex?”
“No, it was smartass.”
She laughs—warm, unguarded, and full of that easy joy that always seems to unravel something tight inside my chest. I swear, her laugh might be the best thing I’ve ever heard.
“How about breakfast before yoga?” I ask, stretching with a sleepy grin.
“Perfect,” she says.
“Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll get it started?” I offer, as her fingers trail lazily down my chest.
“You’re not joining me?” she asks hopeful.
I smirk. “If I do, we’ll never eat.” She shifts to roll out of bed, but I stop her with a gentle touch. “Babe?”
“Yeah?”
I slide my hand down the silky length of her thigh and brush my fingers softly over the slick heat between her legs. My throat tightens at the feeling—intimate, still warm from our bodies. “You know I’ve never had sex without a condom before.”
“I know,” she says, her brows lifting with soft curiosity.
“Can I ask a stupid question?” I glance at her, and for a moment, I hesitate—then I don’t. Not with her. She makes it safe to ask vulnerable things—things I could never as my ex, because I feared it end up in print somewhere.
She cups my cheek with such tenderness it nearly undoes me. “Ask me anything. Always.”
I exhale slowly. “Will I… drip out of you? Will you feel it?”
