Chapter 18
eighteen
. . .
Rosalie
Ho-Ho-Ho for Hockey
The next morning, my body aches in the most delicious way as I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.
I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. Could’ve been the insanely soft, plush pillow top I’m lying on, or… it could be the man who tucked me into his chest, his thick arm tightly slung over my waist, and refused to let go all night.
After I had the absolute best sex of my life in front of the fire, he brought me to the shower, where he pressed me back against the cool tile, tossing my leg over his shoulder and devouring me like he hadn’t already spent the majority of the night with his face buried between my thighs in various places of this cabin.
The man is obsessed with eating pussy, and I honestly can’t think of anything hotter.
Literally… anything.
Once he dried me off because I couldn’t even keep my eyes open, he carried me to the bed and hauled me into his hard body, cuddling me against his chest. I think I passed out about half a second later, and I don’t think I moved a muscle the entire night.
It felt better than I even want to admit, falling asleep in someone’s arms.
Rolling onto my back, I pull the soft blanket up to my chin and glance next to me, running my hand along the sheets and finding them cool to the touch.
Wells must have been gone for a while, but I have no idea what time it is since there are no clocks in the cabin. Which is honestly refreshing, getting to sleep in and not having to worry about my alarm clock going off for work or anything else.
Judging by the sun, I’m guessing that it’s still midmorning.
Warm, bright rays of light beam through the sheer curtains of the bay window, bathing the cabin in sunlight. Between the combination of the rising sun, the warm fire still burning hotly, and the thick blanket on top of me, I don’t think I’m ever going to leave this bed.
There’s a heavy thud, and then the front door to the cabin swings open, and Wells walks through. His gaze immediately lands on me, and a wide smile spreads on his face.
Okay, maaaaybe I could be persuaded to leave this bed.
“Morning, beautiful.” His voice is like velvet, and I press my thighs together beneath the blanket when I’m reminded of all the ways he touched me last night. All of the filthy, hot things he whispered in my ear.
Warmth creeps up my cheeks as I swallow and tuck a strand of mussed hair behind my ear. I can’t even begin to imagine what I look like after going to sleep with it wet and unbrushed. “Good morning. Did you get up early?”
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the rack near the front door.
“Helped my dad get some firewood together for the cabins. It’s supposed to snow pretty hard tonight.
” He turns back to me, a lazy grin moving over his face.
“But I was distracted since I knew I had this to come back to.”
I bite the corner of my lip to hide the smile, rolling my lips together instead, arching a brow. “A warm cabin?”
He chuckles while he walks, his steps slow, measured, like a predator chasing its prey. “Mhm. Definitely the cabin.”
My fingers curl tighter in the blanket, pulling it higher up on my chest. The closer he gets, the harder my heart pounds. When he finally makes it to the foot of the bed, he toes off his boots and climbs onto the mattress, making his way over to me.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you all alone in this bed.” The blanket trails down an inch, and then another as he speaks. “Naked under this blanket, warm and waiting for me.”
I can actually feel my clit pulsing in sync with my heart, and when I try to squeeze my thighs together to quench the ache, he smirks, pulling the blanket the remainder of the way down and tossing it to the side, leaving me completely naked for his eyes to roam. I can feel the path of his gaze.
His big hands press against my belly, sliding up my torso to my breasts, where he cups them, tweaking my nipples in his fingertips, rolling, teasing, tugging.
I never realized just how sensitive my nipples are until Wells.
“So, I headed back here early so I could make you come before we go to the pond for the game.”
My brow pinches. “Pond? Game?”
He nods. “Hockey player, Sugar. Been on ice since I was old enough to walk. We always have a game as a family when we’re all together.”
Oh. Well, that makes sense. But also, another outdoor activity that requires coordination? Great.
He chuckles when he sees my expression. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Anyway, we’ve got a bit of an advantage… all those years of professional training and all.”
“You haven’t seen me on a pair of skates.”
“You haven’t seen me on a pair either,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me, slow and unhurried, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling as his hands wander down my body.
Completely distracting me from any thoughts outside of this moment.
Watching Wells skate, his massive body gliding effortlessly, almost gracefully, along the ice, I quickly realize that he can, in fact, get hotter.
He’s the sexiest thing I’ve quite literally ever seen, and each time I think that he can’t possibly get any more attractive to me… he does.
Not good at all for someone who is supposed to be temporary because the thoughts I keep having? Well, they don’t feel temporary at all.
I just keep telling myself that I’ll worry about it later.
If I bring up how I’m feeling, that I’m starting to care about him much more than a fake girlfriend should, I’m worried he’s not going to feel the same.
It could totally just be one-sided, and he could be enjoying the sex as much as I am. But it might just be sex to him.
Nothing more.
Then things will be weird, and I’m going to die if I have to see this man for the rest of my life next door after he rejected me.
He skates toward me, his chest heaving slightly as he skids to a stop, kicking a small spray of ice onto my feet with a grin.
“You look like you’re thinking awfully hard over here. Promise it’s not that difficult to hit the puck into the net.” He winks, causing my stomach to flutter with butterflies. “It’s just for fun.”
“I know. I was just… lost in thought.”
Gliding closer, he transfers the stick to his other hand so he can slide his free one along my waist. And with a look so sincere, he asks, “Wanna talk about it?”
The fact that he cares enough to ask makes my heart squeeze, but I shake my head, plastering on a smile. “Nope. How about you teach me how to shoot?”
“Oh, say less, Sugar. That’s what I’m here for.”
That’s exactly how I end up positioned in front of a hockey net that has a frosted pine garland intertwined with a string of colorful lights wrapped around the frame and a line of pucks on the ice in front of me with a stick in my hand.
Honestly, they seem much, much smaller on the TV. The thing barely fits in my hand. Clearly, it’s made for massive guys like Wells, who tosses it around like it’s nothing.
“Okay, now watch,” he instructs. “Line the blade of your stick up with the puck, and swing.”
With a quick swish of his wrist, he snaps the puck into the net so fast I almost miss it.
He makes it look entirely too easy, but I have no doubt that it is anything but easy.
Biting the inside of my cheek to hide my grin, I skate closer and slip one arm around his neck as I rise on the tips of my toes. “I bet you were so freaking hot skating in those arenas. It would’ve made me so wet.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles.
I nod. “For sure. I would’ve been squeezing my thighs together the entire time watching you skate across the ice. So much power. All intense and sexy.”
Shit, I’m getting turned on just thinking about it.
Wells leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “I suggest you hit those pucks into the net right the fuck now, Rosalie Sullivan, or I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to the cabin and fuck the shit out of you.”
An involuntary shiver racks my body at the low, deep timbre of his words filled with promise.
He nips at my earlobe before adding, “Stop taunting me, baby.”
Okay, but all I want to do now is exactly that until he follows through on that promise.
“Can you two leave each other alone for five seconds so we can start the damn game?” Zander yells from across the pond, and I glance over, my cheeks flaming red.
Shit. We’re supposed to be playing a game with his family, not engaging in our version of foreplay.
Wells steps back, giving me a light smack on my ass as he places his hands on my waist and skates us into a circle with him behind me.
“Hit the puck into the net. Just like I showed you.”
He slides his palms along my arms and positions me where I need to be, then takes a step back.
I’m doing my best to ignore how turned on I am and instead focus on the task at hand.
Pulling my stick back, I hit the puck as hard as I can, wobbling slightly on my skates from the force, and watch as it sails into the net, narrowly missing the metal frame, but inside nonetheless.
“Fuck yeah, baby!” Wells yells as he grabs me around the waist and picks me up, spinning me around in a circle like we just won a freaking Stanley Cup and not a goal on a frozen pond at his family’s house. “A fucking natural. Look at that.”
I giggle, rolling my eyes at the dramatics. “It was one shot.”
“Yeah, and one shot is all it takes.” He spins toward his brothers and lifts a brow. “You see my girl make that shot? You guys are fucked.”
“Wells!” I cry, slapping his shoulder. “Play nice.”
“The only thing I’m playing tonight is you. Now, let’s finish this game so I can take you back to the cabin and spend the rest of the day with my face buried in your pussy. I’m going to have to play with a half-hard dick after watching you hit that puck like that, Rosalie.”
I shake my head as he sets me down onto my feet and hands me the stick I dropped, tossing me a wink.
I’m not sure what is more concerning… how much I like being his, how much I’m enjoying spending time with his family, how easy it is to be with him, or the fact that in a couple of weeks, it might all end, leaving me with a bruised heart that I never signed up for.