Page 132 of Behind the Net

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Jamie frowns at the huge bathtub piled high with bubbles. His bathroom smells like my vanilla chai bubble bath. He’s shirtless, dressed in only low-slung athletic pants, and I’m trying not to get distracted by the deep-cut V muscles leading into the waistband.

“Get in,” I tell him, gesturing at the tub.

His eyebrow goes up, and he winces. The bruise around his eye is getting darker. “You want me to have a bubble bath.” His tone is flat.

“Mhm. It’ll help you feel better.”

His gaze flares with heat, and I get another glimpse of him from last night, mindlessly thrusting into me, moaning into my hair. His gaze drops to my lips, and his tongue slides over the cut on his mouth.

“Only if you get in with me.”

The flutters between my legs intensify and heat crawls up my neck.

“Fine,” I say, and a dark look flashes through his eyes.

When he slides his pants and boxers off, he’s already hard, jutting out thick and proud. There’s something in his eyes that I like, a little bit of pride, a lot of arousal, and a possessiveness that sends a shiver through me. His muscles move as he gets into the tub—his thick thighs, the ridges of his abs, his rounded, strong shoulders as he lowers himself into the water. He settles back and his gaze sharpens, pinning me.

“Your turn,” he says, and the way his mouth tugs up feels dangerous.

Anticipation pumps in my veins. I pull my jersey off, laying it on the counter before I start to take my sweater over my head.

“Slower.”

He props his elbow on the side of the tub as he watches, and although his body language is relaxed, his eyes are determined. Watchful, cataloging me. This is what he looks like on the ice, watching every move.

My clothes come off slowly, and heat clenches between my legs as his eyes darken. Finally, I’m naked, and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

I step one foot in the tub, and my breath catches.

“It’s hot,” I whisper.

“Come here.” He leans forward and guides me between his legs, back against his chest, just like the time with the toy. His cock rests against his stomach, pressing into my backside, sending thrills through me. I sigh in comfort as he locks his arms across my collarbone, pulling me against him. “That’s better.”

I feel his low voice through his chest, and we sit there in comfortable silence as the bathroom fogs up. My fingers trail a slow path up and down his thighs, and he relaxes around me, breath turning steady. Eventually, his hands slide over my skin to my shoulders and his thumbs dig into my traps, working out the tension in the muscles.

“How’s your face feeling?”

His laugh is low. “Hardly feeling it right now.” He drops a kiss onto my shoulder, and I smile. “You’re the perfect distraction.”

He brushes the skin between my breasts, light as a butterfly, but my nerves dance with his touch, and I feel it everywhere. I’ve never done this with a guy, just sit in the bathtub and explore each other’s bodies. His fingers drift to my nipple, circling it, and the breath whooshes out of my lungs at the sharp ache between my legs.

Against my lower back, his cock pulses, and he drops another kiss to my shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I whisper. He tugs and rolls the peak before moving to the other, and it’s making my head spin, it feels so good.

“How does this feel?” he asks in a low voice, ignoring me.

“Good.” My eyes fall closed as he pinches me, and my center clenches around nothing. The water is so warm, his hard body is so comfortable against mine, and my head fits perfectly against his shoulder as I melt into him.

His mouth is on my temple. “Where do you feel this, songbird? Tell me.”

“My chest.” I sigh as his fingers work, lulling me into a delicious, hazy state of arousal.

“Mhm. Where else?”

God, his voice is so fucking sexy, murmured in my ear like that. “Between my legs.”

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