21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
21
The sight of Rory in my jersey is my undoing. I'm off the ice, but part of me is still pressed against that glass where she claimed me as hers, as publicly as possible.
Right in front of her dad.
Right in front of the Montreal Blizzard.
In front of the entire world.
It’s like she’s hand-delivered certainty straight to my chest. There is no doubt in her mind that she wants to be mine. It was the perfect way to announce it.
Now we’re here, in the hotel room, where the world falls away into the hum of the busy city below us. My hands are in her hair, and I can still smell the lingering scent of the arena on us. Every press of her lips is like she's reiterating that bold statement she made with my name across her back.
Kissing her is living, breathing proof that she's all in, one hundred percent committed to us. This isn't just some fling—it's Rory carving out space in her life that's shaped just like me.
The feeling that courses through me—a mix of adrenaline and something far deeper that I can’t quite put my finger on—tells me I’m in for a ride of shit I’m not used to. Commitment isn’t my forte; it never has been, but I’m already in that space when it comes to her. It's in how she holds on to me, her fingertips urgent against the back of my neck. It’s in the silent whispers of promises when we pull away to catch our breath.
Each time she looks at me, I'm reminded of the stands, of the declaration she didn't have to scream because she said it all in a jersey with my name. She's got my back, not just in the stands, not just in this hotel room, but everywhere, every day.
She’s mine.
“Don’t ever take this jersey off,” I ground out against her lips as I pin her against the wall. “You look so much fuckin’ better in it than I do.”
I hear Rory chuckle. Her fingers tangle tighter into my hair, and damn, if that doesn't send another surge of desire coursing through me, I don’t know what will. In this space, in this quiet corner of the world, I want this woman with an intensity that borders on ferocity.
Then, the realization hits.
I’ve fallen hard and fast, with no safety net, red flags, or warning siren blaring. It's a headfirst dive into something profound, and the absence of fear tells me this is the real deal.
I've descended past the surface, past the superficial into depths where the past is just that.
But now, I know I never want to climb back to that life where Rory isn't with me, in my arms, wearing my name, and making every minute count. How can you get better than this?
You can’t.
“You wanna take a shower?” she asks me because I didn’t take one after the game. I ran out like a bat out of hell to get to her. I didn’t say bye to anyone. I would’ve gone into the stands and risked being mobbed by fans and haters to get to her.
“There’s no point. You’ll need one later, and I’d rather take it with you.”
“Oh yeah?” Her fingers run down the back of my head. “Are you going to make me scream loud enough for the media outlets to hear us all the way downstairs?”
“Fuck no,” I growl out. “The last thing I need is a bunch of middle-aged assholes listening to you and getting a hard-on.”
Rory presses her lips to mine in a slow, soft kiss that reels me in for more. “Then when are you going to be inside me and claim me yourself?”
She doesn’t have to ask twice.
I tug at the waistband of her leggings and quickly help her out of them before she’s in my arms and pressed right back into the wall.
We’re a tornado of needy kisses and a promise of a future I couldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams. I’m not sure if she had it out with her father, but I don’t want those details until later.
I work my way out of my sweats, pull my cock out, and I’m entering her without any additional feedback. Rory’s moan fills my ears, and it’s heaven on Earth.
It’s everything.
I could get lost in this woman forever.
I’m going to marry this woman.
Peeling her off the wall, I make my way to the bed and fall with her in a heap. Rory spreads her legs for me, and I enter her again, thrusting deep and hard. She writhes under me, arching her back for me, and I sink further into oblivion of how perfect Rory is and how she fits me.
How I want to be everything for her.
Her nails drag down my back, and I still have my shirt on. I quickly peel it off; I want to wear her marks proudly as I continue to pound into her.
I don’t want to be slow. I need fast.
It’s been over a week since the news of us came out, and I haven’t seen her since. I spoke with her on the phone, but it wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t the same.
Even though we had phone sex, I couldn’t touch her heated skin and whisper dirty things in her ear.
My balls tighten as Rory uses her black magic to draw me in deeper. To make me finish and break through my normally greater-than-a-god stamina.
I didn’t want to bust my load within five minutes on our first night together. I had all night.
I had forever.
“Stop fucking me back, or I’m going to come,” I growl out, hating that I’m making her chill out, but fuck me, she’s too much.
“You’re going to deny me—”
“No,” I quickly retort. “But I’m only a man here, Snowflake. You’re a damn goddess who’s seducing me into finishing earlier.”
Her lips brush against mine when she says, “I’m sure you can come up with something creative to make me finish. We’ve got all night.”
“I don’t want to be that guy.”
“What guy?”
“The dickhead that—” Rory chuckles and threads her fingers through my hair again.
She fixes her eyes on me. “Wells, stop. I don’t want you to focus on that. I want you to do what feels good, and whatever I do to you…” She clenches around me, and I growl in pleasure. “Don’t hold back.”
“It’s hard as hell not to.”
“That’s exactly what I want to hear.” Her voice is this seductive-as-hell narrative that only loops me in further.
That makes me thrust into her deeper.
My body buzzes, anticipating what’s happening and what’s to come.
Tonight was everything.
It was hard as fuck not to look over at her at the game and cause issues. To not have the Montreal Blizzard start a fight over the coach’s daughter.
I knew everyone was watching us. I also knew what they’d assume since we hadn’t been seen together.
It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but it still irritated me that people would think either one of us was too weak to be able to handle a bit of scandal.
It sold papers and got views, and I get it.
But it still pissed me off.
Rory mewls underneath me, her breathing worn and strained, and I know she’s close.
Fuck me, I’m teetering on the edge.
However, I refuse to finish before she does. This moment here seals so many things between us, and it’s vital.
She’s mine.
And I’m hers.
And I’m never letting her go.
Within seconds, Rory finally gives me a reprieve and screams my name as she comes. It triggers mine as I bow over her. The intensity is higher than a hockey victory, and I’d take this over sweating my ass off with a bunch of testosterone idiots choking me out any day.
I fall into a heap at Rory’s side and pull her into me.
I’m speechless and content with just being here.
Being with her.
All the details can be hashed out later.
I’m in love with her, and I want her to know.