Chapter 43 Clueless but Eager
Clueless but Eager
Eric
The moment Darcy nods, I feel the knot of tension inside my chest unravel.
I’ve been holding myself back since I stepped through the door, but now I finally lean in and kiss her on the jaw.
Her skin is warm and soft against my lips, and I breathe her in.
“I know you’re nervous about me and my intentions.
I understand why. But either you’re willing to try, or you’re not.
There’s nothing else I can do to prove that I’m serious about you. ”
“I need to… take it slow,” she says softly, her breath hitching slightly when I press another kiss just below her ear.
“Okay,” I say, even as my body responds to her nearness. “You’re in charge of how this works.”
“Thank you.” She leans her forehead against my shoulder, and I can feel the tension leaving her body. “I admit—I keep pointing out how you never date anyone for long, but I don’t, either.”
I feel a smile spreading across my face as I run my hand up her back, feeling the delicate knobs of her spine through her shirt. “We’re rookies at this. Like Calder—clueless but eager.”
“We’re not that clueless.” She lifts her head and laughs. “The other day, he asked me why everyone in New York walks so fast. Are they all late for something?”
I snort out a laugh. This is what I missed—sharing our private analysis of the rest of the world. “I love hearing your thoughts, especially about the numbskulls we work with.”
Her expression grows serious, though. “Is it weird if I’m not ready to hear what the numbskulls think about us, though? I don’t like people knowing my private business. Especially my boss.”
“Ah.” This is the part of the puzzle that I don’t know how to solve. “We can do this however you want. I’ll follow your lead at work.”
“It’s nobody’s business but ours,” she says firmly. “And, well, the numbskulls that live on the same floor of your apartment building. Can Chase and DeLuca keep things quiet for a little while?”
“Sure they can.” I wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer. The heat between us is building, and I can see the awareness flickering in her eyes. “Give me a chance, Darcy. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Will you?” She gives me a teasing smile, her fingers finding the hem of my shirt and brushing against the skin of my stomach.
“Oh yeah.” The simple touch sends electricity shooting through me, and I can’t wait any longer. I scoop her off the couch and stand up, her body fitting perfectly against mine. “Let’s have a tour of your bedroom.”
“I thought I was in charge?” she says as I carry her toward the rear of the apartment, but her voice is breathless now, and her arms wind around my neck.
“You’re in charge when we have our clothes on. This part is my domain.” I pause in the hallway to press her back against the wall, my mouth finding that sensitive spot on her neck that makes her gasp.
“Oh.” Her body presses closer to mine, her hips shifting against me in a way that makes my vision blur. “What did you have in mind? I have to be careful of my hand.”
“Your hand will be fine—I’m an expert,” I tell her, my voice rough with want. “I’m going to take very good care of you.”
And I do. Which means keeping her here in the hallway a little too long and kissing her like the world is ending. Until we’re both panting and desperate.
Only then do I set her down and follow her into the bedroom, where I discover that Darcy’s bed is a low-to-the-floor contemporary number.
In one glance, I form a very erotic plan, my eyes roving down her body.
“Oh, look how easily this skirt comes off,” I say, giving it a quick tug.
It falls to the floor. “Almost like you missed me.”
“The ego on you! My cast makes buttons difficult,” she says. But this argument seems a little hollow since her good hand is currently taking an intricate tour of my chest.
“Kendrick,” I say seriously. “I’ll make myself available to undo your buttons at any time.”
“Big of you.”
“Oh, I am.” I nudge my erection into her belly so she knows just how big. “Are there condoms in this room somewhere?”
“Um… probably? In the bedside table.” She gives me a hot kiss and then fumbles with the drawstring on my shorts.
“I’ll get that,” I whisper. “Lie down.”
She does, and I quickly strip down to nothing but heated skin and big ideas. While she watches me with hungry eyes.
“Knew you missed me,” I say smugly. “Can I lift your shirt off if I’m careful of your arm?”
In answer, she sits up and does it for me. Then she kicks off her panties.
In a hot second, I’m covering her body with mine. It feels like coming home. Our kisses are bottomless, and our hands (three of them, anyway) rove like we’ve just returned from the wars.
“Hurry,” Darcy says, rubbing against me like a cat.
“No.”
She opens her eyes and frowns at me. “This dominance thing is a drag sometimes.”
I kiss her on the neck. “If this was just sex, I’d hurry.
But it isn’t, so I need to take my time.
When we’re done, it will be too late to kick me out.
This way I can wake up in your bed tomorrow and treat you to breakfast somewhere.
” I think about that for a second. “Somewhere that hockey players don’t usually eat. Somewhere with linen napkins.”
She smiles up at me. “Okay, you made your point. Breakfast is on. Now, get the damn condom out of the drawer.”
Chuckling, I slide off her and open the drawer. There is, in fact, a box of condoms in there, so I grab it. That’s not all, though. “Aw, a bullet vibrator. On the charger no less. I knew you missed me.”
She gives me a playful kick. “Now is not the time to be smug.”
“I think it is.” I suit myself up while she watches. Then I drape myself over her again, and we make out like teenagers who just discovered kissing.
And it hits me—I think I actually knew on that first ravenous night. In the hotel suite, when I first stared into Darcy’s heated eyes, I understood on a deep level how special it was. How well we knew each other already. We’d leveled up to a place I’d never experienced before.
It was a little scary, honestly. I had to downplay it to myself. I had to go along with the fiction that we’d have just a fun weekend and nothing more.
But that was never the truth. We slide into another kiss, and the heat between us feels lasting and inevitable. I could do this forever.
Or, well, at least until Darcy gets carried away. She clunks her broken wrist against my hip and then yelps with pain.
“Hey,” I say, pressing myself up on my elbows. “None of that.”
“Stupid, clumsy thing,” she says, glaring at her hand. “It’s the worst kind of wrist restraint.”
“We’re going to fix that,” I promise. “I have a plan.”
“Let’s see this plan.”
She yelps again—but this time from surprise—when I drag her off the edge of the low-slung bed and onto the fluffy rug.
I position her on her knees, body draped over the bed.
“Leave your arms still, okay?” I run my hands down her body and cup her ass in my hands.
“This is going to be a rough ride, but not for your wrists.”
Her response is a low moan.
My hands take a trip around the front of her body, while I kiss the back of her neck. She shivers in response. And when I bite the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, she moans again. “Hurry.”
“You’ll get it when I’m good and ready.”
But the truth is that I’ve been ready for weeks. Ready to love her. And when I slide home a minute later, we’re both grateful.
I wake up sprawled out in Darcy’s bed some hours later.
We’ll have a grueling morning skate at nine, and I’m pretty sure Darcy has to be at work, too. But I feel nothing but peace. The whole day—no, the whole season—feels infinitely more expansive to me than it did just yesterday.
And it’s only seven, which means there’s still time to take my girl out on a date. I pick up my phone and find the number for Café Chelsea on Twenty-Third. I ring them, and when someone answers, I’m ready. “Good morning. Do you have linen napkins?”
Beside me, Darcy rolls over and slurs, “What are you doing? I thought that was a joke.”
In my ear, the hostess says, “Um, they’re fabric, if that’s what you’re asking?”
“Wonderful. Do I need a reservation for breakfast for two within the hour?”
“Walk right in, sir.”
I thank her and hang up. “Get up, baby. Our first secret date is on.”