Page 97 of Hot for the Hockey Player
I nodded, even though I wasn’t.
“You know you’re notmyfirst, right?”His playful smirk was an attempt to soothe me, and it was working.
“Yes,” I whispered.“I know.”
“I, uh … I actually lost my virginity in your house.”Rolling his lips inward, he stared at me with wide, teasing eyes.
My jaw dropped.“Was I home?”
“No, no.I would never do that.I only brought girls over when you and the kids were gone.And I honestly hardly ever did it.But you went away with them for a weekend and … I’d been kind of seeing this girl.We hadn’t been able to find a place to bealone, and …”
“You turned my house into your perverted sex dungeon.”
“I did.”His solemn nod made me snort.“We had sex on every surface—twice.I’m surprised you didn’t find our floggers and handcuffs wedged between the couch cushions.”
I gave his nipple a little flick.“As long as you were being safe.”
“We had a safe word—watermelon.And I used it several times.”God, I loved his smile and the way he so easily, so effortlessly, made me relax.It wasn’t even like I pushed all my niggling and worrisome thoughts away for later.They dissolved into nothing when Maverick was around.He made them disappear.
“Well, I’m sure your list of satisfied and heartbroken women is vastly longer than mine.”
“You have a list ofwomenyou’ve satisfied?Do tell.”He turned over onto his side to face me, propping his head in his hand and resting on his elbow.“I wantallthe details.Leave no nipple out.”
Rolling my eyes, I gave him a shove, then mimicked his position.“No.No women.I’ve been with Cyrus, Ballard, and … you.Ballard was … he was …” I sighed, searching for the right analogy.“When we do tastings, we always offer a palate cleanser in between the different wines.Sometimes water is enough for people.Others prefer something with a bit more substance, like plain crackers or bread.And some people like a little bite of pear or apple.That was Ballard.After my husband, who was just a horrific, never-ending waterboarding of the worst vintage in the world, Ballard was like a delicious bite of perfectly ripe pear.He cleansed my palate, and then he was also my first sip of something wonderful.Of the most cool, crisp, and sweet rosé.A healing sip on the back patio in the early evening of summer as the dragonflies and bees zip past, after a long, grueling day picking grapes in the merciless sun.”
Blinking at me, with another one of his amused, sexy half-smiles, Maverick reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.“And what am I?”
“What are you …?”
“What kind of wine am I?If your husband was a waterboarding of the worst vintage in the world, and Ballard was a refreshing rosé, what kind of wine am I?”
I loved his hair.It was so soft and had a life of its own with all the wild cowlicks.Running my fingers through it, and delighting in the way he closed his eyes and sort of tilted his head to give me better access, I brought my lips across his and whispered, “You’re a pinot noir.”
His eyes opened.“Yeah?Why’s that?”
“Because you’re versatile.You pair well with all kinds of things.All kinds of people.Everyone loves you.Nobody ever says, ‘Oh, I don’t drink pinot.’Pinot is always welcomed.Pinot is always appreciated.Pinot is consistent and reliable.It’s nevernotpinot season.It enhances the flavors of the foods its paired with, but also shines on its own.It’s …” I smiled.“It’s the golden retriever of wines.It just makes everyone happy.”
“So, I’m the golden retriever of wines?”His light-blue eyes, flecked with gold, sparkled with amusement and … something else.When he looked at me like that it was like he was seeing all of me.Seeing through me, and all the things I tried to hide.But there was no fear or reluctance there.Just … curiosity.
My head bobbed.“You’re the golden retriever of wines.”
“Could be worse.I could be one of those ugly-ass, hairless Chinese crested dogs of wine.”
My mouth twitched.“You’re definitely not one of those.”
Leaning forward, he cupped my jaw and kissed me.“Does Ballard know about your past?”
“He does.He’s one of the few people—besides you and my cousins, obviously—that knows the full truth.”
All he did was nod.
For some reason, I felt compelled to explain my situation with Ballard to Maverick, not that I had to.But I did.I normally kept everything to myself, only telling things to my cousins, and even then, they often got the abridged version of things.But something about the way Maverick completely set me at ease, like I wasn’t being judged at all, made me want to tell him all my deepest, darkest secrets.
“He was the first man to ever make me orgasm.The first man to ever give me oral sex, or finger me.He was the first man to make meenjoysex.Because before him, it was Cyrus, and my pleasure meant nothing to him.But Ballard cared about my pleasure.He was patient and gentle, and never pushed me beyond my comfort zone.Like I said, he was a palate cleanser.I wasn’t a virgin, but in a lot of ways, I kind of was.I’m grateful to him, for his friendship, and for our time together.”
“Did the kids ever meet him?”
“No.”Huffing a laugh of mild discomfort, I rolled onto my back.“Ballard was a notary, so we actually drafted up a document outlining the nature of ourarrangement.That there would be no sleepovers, no meeting each other’s kids, and no sleeping with other people.We could date other people, but if we chose to become intimate with them, we had to notify the other person.”
