Page 45 of Puck to the Heart
“Fucking men.”
“My thoughts exactly.” A dark laugh scraped my throat. “Youdon’t suck, though.” I put my hand on his and grinned.
“I can if you want me to.” That evil eyebrow flicked up and he gave me a smirk intended to make me weak in the knees.
And it worked.Because he wanted to?—
And suddenly the hot air blowing in my face was a littletoohot.
Admittinghow strongly I cared for Olivia was easy, as much as it scared me. Maybe the intensity with which I’d explained was too much, but she took it all in stride. And now with her asleep in the passenger seat, coming home with me, beingmine, it consumed me.
With her arms folded tightly to her body, evidence of the stress and anxiety always plaguing her lingered, even in sleep, and I ached to take it away. Wanted to ease everything vexing her.
But I’d never been good at fixing things. Only breaking them.
And everything about this new understanding between us seemed so delicate, almost fragile. Like being on the ice, one wrong move and I'd get wrecked. I hopedIwouldn’t breakher, but I was hers to do with as she pleased.
She grumbled when I woke her but promises of food perked her up. We were both drenched, so I sent Olivia to my bedroom while I ordered food and made hot chocolate, heavily dosed with bourbon, cinnamon, and a dash of cayenne, the way my grandpa used to make it.
“My room has the best shower,” I announced when I pushed through my bedroom door with two steaming mugs. “You can use it, if you want.”
Selfishly, I wanted to keep her in my space, knowing I should’ve taken her to a guest suite, but…Ineededher close after our distance of the past few days.
“Best how?” she sounded tired, so I didn’t offer to join her. This time.
“It’s one of my favorite parts of this house. It has those rain shower heads in all four corners, and you can make it go from a drizzle to a thunderstorm. The regular ones are all adjustable heights with these handle attachment things that give thebestscalp massages. And then there’s this big stone bench at the back. Sometimes, after a long practice, I just sit there and let the water run forever because it never runs out. It’s amazing.” Fond memories of living with my grandparents and hearing their good-natured griping about my smelly teenaged self using all their hot water after morning and evening hockey practices flitted through my mind as I handed her the mug. While she sipped her hot chocolate, I searched my drawers, gathering clothes for her.
Olivia followed me in, leaning against the door frame as I turned on the water to run and warm the room. “Maybe next time you can join me.” My mouth went dry. For someone who prided myself on being flirtatious, I had no comeback to volley at her, and she gave me a slow once-over.
Next time. Two words never sounded so miraculous, for a multitude of reasons, and she practically gave me a promise of a next time.
Of course she did; that’s how this works. Get it together, dude. Be cool, my inner asshole said. Mainly I was so excited, almost giddy, practically tripping over myself to make her happy.
I placed the stack of my clothes on the counter for her with my softest towels, lit a candle, and tested the water. It was just short of boiling, pouring from every one of the excessive shower heads. When I bought the house, it seemed superfluous, but the first time hot water pelted me from all angles after a game, I was hooked.
When I returned a half hour later from a subpar shower in a guest bathroom, I found Olivia exiting my bathroom in a cloud of steam. The t-shirt I’d laid out for her clung to her breasts, skimming the tops of her thighs, offering a view of a whole lot more of her than I’d yet seen and just…fuck. Seeing her in my shirt, all undone and smelling like my soap sent an untethered pang of longing down to unfurl at the base of my spine. My hands itched to pull her down on the bed, but I kept them by my sides. Our declarations probably left her raw the way openly and loudly proclaiming my feelings for her left me completely drained.
Or at least I thought I was, until she reached up to untie her bun and the shirt rose just enough for me to notice she wasn’t wearing underwear.
Which made sense since I didn’t have any to give her. My exhausted brain chose that moment to pipe up.Holy shit, holy fuck. That is a mostly naked woman.Some things never changed. But seriously, this side view of the length of her long, bare leg and the curve of her ass sent me into an electrically charged overdrive with the need to feel her skin beneath my hands.
“Ahem.” Thankfuck, Olivia’s voice snapped me out of my horny reverie. “I was thinking,” she said, stepping forward. “We should pick things up where we left off.”
“I will pick upanywhereyou want if you wear my shirt like that again.”
The soft curve of her mouth was the antithesis of the blaze in her eyes as she took another step closer. She smelled likemebut sweeter, the underlying scent ofhersending me even nearer to a frenzy I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
“Are you going to kiss me or just stand there staring?”
“I—yes? Wait. No? I don’t know. What do youwantme to do?” Every cell in my body screamed at me to do anything she wanted, but I didn’t want to scare her again. Even if I hadn’t been the one to put that pained look in her eyes, I’d inadvertently caused it, and I hated that. With a slow inhale, I took a moment to collect myself. “I don’t want to cross any lines with you. Everything will be on your terms. If you let me touch you, I will do everything to make it good for you. All I want is for you to feelgood, Olivia, no matter how long it takes. Okay? We won’t do anything you don’t want, but I need you to know that up front.”
“Wow, okay. You can touch me. I want you to.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll stop.”
“I know. I trust you. As long as you know I might not,you know.” A splash of pink spread over her cheeks.
“It’s okay if you don’t, but I am going to workextremelyhard. And I bet have at least one advantage on your ex.” I closed the distance between us, pushing a lock of damp, wavy hair behind her ear.
