Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Hannah
“Time out. Time out,” Sean calls out, making a T with his hands.
“What? Why? Is the big, bad goalie scared I’m gonna beat him at his own game?”
“No. The big, bad goalie just really wants to kiss you.” He grins, crowding me against the boards.
“When did you become so sweet?” I giggle against his lips as he dusts them across mine in a feather like kiss.
In a flash, he’s gone with the puck.
Bastard!
“Hey! That’s cheating!” I chase after him, the sound of our blades cutting across the ice and laughter trailing behind us.
He spins around, taunting me. “Come on, Rebel. You said you could skate circles around me.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past hour?”
I pump my legs harder to catch up with him, each breath a little puff cloud, fading into the cold air.
My stick clacks against his as I reach around and steal the puck, pulling it to my backhand.
He tries to take it back, but I move it to my forehand, flip it up onto my blade and give it a few bounces, moving my stick out of his reach.
“Oh, now you’re just showing off.”
“No. This is showing off.” I toss the puck high into the air and spin until I’m dizzy.
The puck drops onto the ice with a clatter. Sean tries to grab it, but I’m quicker. I shove the puck through his legs and deke around him, laughing as he chases after me. With him hot on my heels, I fire off the shot. The puck spins in the air, hits the back of the net, then clatters to the ground.
I throw my arms up in the air. “I win!”
One second, my skates are on the ice; the next, I’m over his shoulder, the facility spinning in a blur.
“Put me down!” I laugh.
We come to a stop, and as I slowly slide down the front of his body, his laughter trails off and his beautiful brown eyes lock with mine.
“I love you . . . that’s what ‘te amo’ means. And I do love you, Hannah.”
The air stills, and something electric rushes its way through my body.
My throat works, but the words won’t come out of my mouth.
Releasing his shirt from my clinched fists, I run my hands up his chest and circle them around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair.
I rise on the toe of my skates and kiss him.
Every word that refuses to leave my lips, every ounce of love I’ve ever felt for him .
. . my fears, and my hopes . . . I pour it all into this kiss.
When we pull back, we’re both breathless. His thumb brushes along my cheek as his gaze captures mine.
“Yeah,” he murmurs softly, reading my mind. “I know, baby. I know.”
His serious expression dissipates, and in its place, a slow, playful grin spreads across his lips as something mischievous flickers in his eyes.
“Now,” he says, handing me his stick and easing back from me, “you just stand your pretty ass right there and let me show you something I’ve never shown anyone outside of my family.”
He skates back a few feet, reaching up to tie his hair into a quick bun.
“This is our little secret,” he adds, pointing at me. “You tell anyone and I’ll deny it until my dying breath. I mean it, Rebel, this is our little circle of trust.”
“Cross my heart. I won’t tell a soul.” I laugh, lifting my right hand as he pushes off, gliding across the ice.
He circles the crease, picking up speed, then turns, skating backwards past center ice. A second later, he launches into the air, arms pulled tight to his chest as he spins.
My breath catches.
Sean’s blades kiss the ice like he never left it, carrying the momentum straight into his next move.
His skates blur beneath him in an intricate series of complicated steps balanced on the toes of his blades.
Then he jumps again, landing only to pull into a tight spin, folding at the waist with his leg in a figure four, his head resting on his calf.
It’s stunning. So beautiful, in fact, tears well in my eyes.
He unwinds smoothly, letting the spin slow until he glides to a stop. With a small, exaggerated flourish, he bows and makes his way back to me.
“Sean, that was beautiful.”
Taking my hands in his, he pulls me along to skate with him.
“I learned from my mom. Sometimes I’d dick around with some moves when no one was watching—just kinda repeated what I saw my mom and sisters do over and over until I got it.” He shrugs as he skates backwards, leading me around the rink. “Now it just comes natural.”
“You could honestly be a figure skater if you wanted to. That was the most stunning performance I’ve ever seen.”
Instead of responding, his eyes lock with mine for a few beats . . . then it hits me. Watching. Learning. Repeating. Breaking things down without thinking twice about it. Fixing issues and reading plays before they happen.
My grip tightens in his hand. “This was a lesson, wasn’t it?”
He huffs out a laugh. “I just preach from the good book of Sean, mi amor. Whatever you take from it is whatever you take from it.”
“I don’t know if I’m good enough.”
He slows us to a stop and wraps his arms around my waist. “Being good at something doesn’t mean you have to do it, just like those with an opportunity to do something doesn’t make them good at it.
Which you are . . . you know . . . good at coaching.
You have both: skill and opportunity. Doesn’t mean you have to do it.
Thing is, I see your passion and your ability, so don’t you dare doubt yourself.
And don’t say no just because you doubt yourself.
There’s no need to make any life choices right now.
Mull on it a while, and whatever you decide, I’m in your corner. ”
“What if I decide to do it and I fail in front of the world?”
“Well then, you pick your ass back up, dust yourself, and go again. Just like anything else. Look at me.” He tilts my chin up. “You won’t fail.”
“Yeah,” I say.
He chuckles, knowing I’m not convinced, and kisses me on the temple.
“Come on. We’ll have time to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie like we used to if we leave now.”
I raise a brow. “Ooh, do I get to pick the movie?”
“Whatever you want, baby. I’ll probably just watch you watch it anyway.”
And that’s exactly what he does. As he sits next to me on the couch, I feel his eyes on me.
His thumb grazes my arm, causing goose bumps to pebble my skin.
A tingle shoots to my core, and my pussy clinches.
Maverick’s mouth moves on the screen, but nothing he says makes sense because I’m too caught up in Sean’s touch.
What is it about watching movies in the dark that puts you in the mood?
Seriously. As soon as the room goes dark and the lights from screen flicker across your face and bounce around the room, it’s like a signal to the brain that says “time to fuck.”
Sean dips his head, brushing his lips against my shoulder in a soft, teasing kiss. I turn to him, my hand sliding up his chest and gripping his shirt to bring him closer, then my mouth is on his.
“Mmm,” he moans, sending a thrill straight through me.
Nothing turns me on more than hearing the sounds he makes.
His hand shifts to my jaw, fingers curling gently as he tilts my face up, deepening our kiss.
Every stroke of his tongue makes me crave him more.
He’s pressed against me, but it’s nowhere near close enough.
I need him inside me. My teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, and he pulls back.
“Mi amor,” he strangles out, his voice low and gravelly. “Sigue haciendo eso… y no voy a poder aguantarme.”
“I don't know what the hell you just said, but it sounded sexy as hell coming from your mouth,” I tell him, climbing into his lap.
My lips find his again, and as his tongue lightly grazes mine, heat rushes through my body. I grind my clit against the huge bulge in his pants, chasing the friction.
“Sean,” I sigh as he drags his mouth down my neck.
His lips come back up and capture mine again, and without breaking our kiss, he stands, lifting me in one smooth motion. My legs instinctively coil around his waist as he carries me to his room. We cross the threshold, and he sets me on my feet, then I feel my blouse move up.
He’s not gonna want you after seeing your chest.
My hands fly to his, gripping onto them tightly. Either caught up in the moment or not realizing that I’m trying to stop him, he lifts my blouse a little higher.
He loves you, Hannah. He’s doesn’t give a rip about your fucking chest.
I loosen my grip and feel the silk slowly slide up past my belly button, but as his knuckles graze the ribs right below my chest, my mind becomes my worst enemy.
Mutilated. Ugly. Disfigured.
What were you even thinking, taking him back?
You obviously weren’t thinking about the fact that he would eventually see you completely naked.
What a dumbass. Did you honestly believe you could continue to keep your shirt on, and he’d just keep fucking you from behind?
Fucking boring. Remember when you had a nice big rack?
Yeah, I bet he does too. So, what if he’s going down on you and he absentmindedly reaches up to play with your tits?
You have no fucking tits. A sheet of paper has more curves than you.
When that happens—and it will happen—that’ll be embarrassing as fuck for the both of you.
Just imagine his fingertips tweaking the fucking air, God, Hannah.
Again, my hands tighten, and I press down to stop him.
He breaks our kiss and releases a sigh. His eyes squeeze tight as if he’s in pain, then he lowers his head, his brows resting against mine.
“You don’t trust me.”
“I do trust you.”
He leans back, looking into my eyes. “No, baby, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t keep trying to stop me from taking off your shirt.”
Humiliation sets in, and his face blurs as unshed tears fill my eyes. I don’t want to tell him the ugly thoughts running through my head, but I also don’t want him to think I don’t trust him.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” My voice breaks as I try to hold back my tears. “I’m embarrassed, Sean. It’s ugly. Really fucking ugly. And okay, you’re right . . . maybe I’m scared that once you see me, you won’t want me anymore.”
“I love you. Every fucking part of you. There’s not a single thing about you or your body that I’m not out of my goddamn mind obsessed about or that I don’t think is beautiful. Even the parts that you believe to be ugly. There’s not a damn thing that could make me not want you.”
When I look away, he cups my cheek and brings my gaze back to his, and with raw emotion in his voice, he pleads, “Please don’t hide yourself from me, baby.”
Silence stretches around us. He raises the helm of my blouse just an inch but stops.
“May I please?”
“Okay,” I whisper with a nod.
Slowly, my top slides over my head, then my long hair tumbles down my back. Without taking his eyes off mine, his fingertips graze along the horizontal scar and the indentations on the left side of my chest.
“Hidden behind this scar right here is the heart I fell in love with. The one my very own beats for.”
Bending down, he places a soft kiss on the left scar, then the right. My eyes flutter, then I feel the dampness from the first tear sliding down my cheek. His thumb brushes against the marred flesh, then he leans back, mapping out the jagged lines with his gaze.
“You fought like hell and didn’t lay down to take whatever the fuck fate decided to dish out to you.” His eyes lift back to mine, then he reaches up, cupping my cheek. “Your scars are beautiful. You are fucking beautiful.”
Warmth blooms throughout my chest, and my heart becomes so incredibly full that it physically aches . . . almost like it’s cracking in two. A shuttering breath escapes my parted lips, and another tear slips free.
“I love you,” I whisper without hesitation.
He moves closer, and I cling to him, my fingertips digging into his back. Resting my forehead against his chest, my eyes slide shut, and I breathe him in.
The rough pads of his fingertips press under my chin, guiding my head up.
We hold each other’s gaze, and everything else seems to fall away.
He claims my mouth, and this time when he kisses me, it’s different than the way he ever did in the past. It’s softer, more controlled, and intentional.
His fingers tremble as he eases off the rest of what’s left between us.
Gently lowering me onto his bed, he hovers over me, holding my gaze.
His eyes darken with need before taking my mouth again.
My hands roam the smooth skin on his back, exploring the tight corded muscles flexing under my touch.
Nervous quivers take over my thighs as his lips skim their way down my neck to the center of my chest down to my pussy—his eyes never leaving mine.
I jolt at the contact of his tongue as he sucks the sensitive skin at the apex of my thighs into his mouth.
A breathy laugh escapes his lips before his tongue peeks out, licking my clit.
“Holy fuck.” I gasp, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
Reaching down, I thread my fingers through his hair—pulling him closer. My hips thrust up involuntarily to chase the sensation.
“Greedy girl.” He chuckles under his breath, pressing two thick fingers into me.
With a little flick of his wrist and the curl of his fingers, my back bows off the bed. He takes his time coaxing me toward my orgasm until I’m right on the edge, his movements slow and deliberate in a steady rhythm that builds and builds until I fucking lose myself.
“Oh, Goddamn, Sean!” My hands grip the sheet as I ride out wave after wave until the very last tremor wracks through me.
His soft lips feel like silk against my skin as they trail all the way up my body. He hovers over me again, the pad of his thumb grazing my bottom lip.
“This mouth . . . this filthy fucking mouth. The words you say while looking so goddamn innocent drive me fucking insane.”