Chapter 24 #2
He slapshots the puck, and the sound echoes as I hold my breath.
One.
The goalie drops down and lifts his glove up, but the puck sails right through his hand and hits the back of the net.
The light flashes and clock runs out, as the hometown crowd goes wild.
Their Nobles just won the game.
“Your husband just got a hat trick, Liv,” Max tells me, less than thrilled, but somewhere down deep, I think he’s hiding a smile.
His team may have lost, but I’m wearing the jersey of the man who just won.
Thirty minutes later, I’m standing in the back of the press conference where Logan is seated on the dais next to his coach and his goalie as questions are volleyed every which way.
Every now and then, it pays to have agent credentials that get you into something like this.
Even if more than half of the questions have been about our marriage.
I might be dying inside, but no one but me knows that.
My husband is turning out to be quite the rockstar as he sits up there, tossing no comments out left and right. His hair is damp and in his eyes, and my fingers absolutely itch to run through the soft strands. To brush it off his face. And to fucking pull it as he buries himself inside me.
I officially found out that hockey turns me on tonight.
Either that, or I’m just a ho for my husband.
I’m going with the second one because I’ve been to an exorbitant number of hockey games through the years and never felt like this after one before.
We’ll just call that the hockey hottie husband effect.
“Come on, Logan. You gotta give us something,” a reporter from the front of the room asks when Logan’s eyes finally meet mine.
Only happiness to see me isn’t shining back.
The excitement over the win that was there a second ago is nowhere to be found.
Pain and hurt flash quickly before he locks that shit down.
What the hell?
“You want something?” Logan asks, his eyes staying locked on me.
“How about, we won the game. We played hard. Fought hard. And made the plays that count. It was a team effort and took every player out there on the ice to accomplish. Tonight, we won, but it’s only one game.
The first game. Now we need to focus on doing this all season.
I’d say that matters more to my team than whether I’m married or not. ”
“But you are married. She’s in the back of the room wearing your jersey with wedding rings on her finger. Why not just admit it?” someone else asks, and Logan shrugs, clearly over this press conference.
“Because I owe you my skill and my leadership on the ice. I don’t owe you my family. Thank you very much, everyone.” He stands and waves and heads off the dais, leaving everyone’s jaws hanging in surprise.
Well that was unexpected.
Time to find my husband.
I flash my lanyard and walk into the empty locker room a few minutes later. The majority of the players have cleared out, except for the last few stragglers, who seem to be heading out now. It only takes me a minute to find Logan standing in front of his locker. “Hey, handsome.”
When he turns, he doesn’t look happy to see me, and my heart sinks.
There’s no heat in his blue eyes. Just hurt.
“What’s going on, Logan?” I close the last few steps between us until I’m forced to look up to meet his angry gaze. “You won. You played great. Hell, you were the MVP. Walk me through why you look like someone ran over your dog.”
“Is your phone broken, Olivia?” His words are as cold as the ice he skated on all night.
“No.” I shake my head. “Why?”
“I’ve been trying to get you all day.” He doesn’t raise his voice.
There’s no yelling. No arguing. Just hurt.
“I’ve called. I’ve texted. But you’ve ignored me.”
“I’m sorry.” I reach up and brush his hair away from his brow the way I’ve been dying to do, then run my thumb over his lip. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to answer a text?” His eyes flare, and I look around to see if we’re alone. Thankfully, we are. “Your damn phone is usually glued to your hand, Liv.”
“I’m sorry. I had a meeting with Nina. Then another meeting with Pete.
I helped Rita get Maggie down for a nap because little miss was having none of it today.
Then I laid down myself for an hour because I felt like shit before I came here.
Would you like me to account for every hour because I can.
I’m a block-schedule kind of girl, Logan. ”
He shrugs away like he doesn’t want me to touch him, and my heart splinters.
“Logan . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that big of a deal.”
He gathers my face in his hands and spins us around so my back is to the wall of lockers.
“You seriously don’t get it, do you, Olive?
I’m not even mad. I was worried. I left you this morning, and you looked like hell and told me you felt like hell.
Then I couldn’t get you all day. Today of all days. ”
“Of all days,” I repeat, not understanding. “What does today have to do with it?”
He shakes his head and his gaze loses some of its fire. “You coming here with my name on your back and my rings on your finger might not mean anything to you, St. James, but it means something to me.”
“Adler,” I correct him with a small, scared smile.
“What?”
“You called me St. James. But I’m not. I’m an Adler now.
And yes, I came here in your jersey, with your name and your rings.
I stood in my family’s box and watched your team kick their asses, and do you want to know who I cheered for?
” I catch my lip between my teeth and tilt my head.
“You. And not just you but your team. Not the Revolution. The only team I ever cheer for. Nope. I cheered for the Nobles. Because they’re yours, and you’re theirs.
Which means no matter who you play and what my affiliation is to that team, I’m cheering on you and yours.
Because you’re mine, Logan. Somehow in this giant mess we’ve created, we made it work and . . . You. Are. Mine.”
“Yeah, well, everybody leaves eventually, Liv. My dad left when I was a baby. My mom left three years later. Grams left Pops a few years after that. We never heard from any of them again. They weren’t taken.
They just left. No note. No call. No answer.
I’ve never felt like I was good enough for anyone to stick around before, Olivia.
Then you decided we needed to let the world know we were married .
. . And I don’t know what happened. I just know I was worried about you, and you didn’t answer.
” He wraps his arms around me and lifts me to his height, leaving my feet to dangle above the floor.
“You’ve got to answer the damn phone, Liv. ”
“I will.” I run my hands over his head and hold his face to mine. “I promise, next time I will.”
Logan nods and leans his forehead against mine.
“But Logan, I need you to hear this when I say it. You are good enough. You’re too good.” I pull back and get lost in those blue eyes while tears fill my own eyes. “You’re everything. And I’m not leaving.”
Logan devours my mouth, and I wrap my legs around his waist. “Is this locker room empty?”
“Fucking right it is.”
“Logan . . .” I sigh and drag the tips of my fingers gently along the split lip he probably got from the fight during the second period. “What if someone comes in?”
His grin is panty melting as he licks up the column of my neck.
“Guess you better be quiet, Olive. I’d hate to have to kill one of my teammates for seeing my wife like this.
” Goosebumps cover my flesh as my hypersensitive nerves explode when his teeth scrape along my rapidly racing pulse point.
“Do you have any idea what seeing you in this jersey does to me, wife?”
I lean in and lick the lobe of his ear. “Do you have any idea how wet my panties are from watching you skate all night, husband?”
“Fuck, Livvy.” He drags his fingers up the inside of my thigh and over my lace thong. “You’re soaked.”
“I am, so how about you fuck me, Captain?”
“Gonna be the death of me,” he murmurs against my lips as he unbuckles his belt and shoves my shorts aside. “Shit, Olive. I don’t have a condom.”
I bite his lip, then lick into his mouth, fucking frenzied for this man. “I’m on the pill, and I trust you, Logan.”
Logan’s blue eyes darken, and his pupils blow wide. “You sure, Livvy? I’ve never gone bare before.”
I reach between us and shove his boxers below his ass. “So fucking sure, Logan.”
“Don’t think I can be gentle this time, wife.” He lines himself up. “That okay?”
“I don’t need gentle.” I crush my mouth to his. “I just need you.”
Logan devours my scream as he slams his cock inside me in one delicious thrust.
“Shh, baby.” He covers my mouth as we hear a door close and takes two steps to his left, carrying us into the shaded corner of the room. “Christ, Olivia. You’re so fucking tight.”
He pounds into me over and over and over again.
Hitting that sweet spot with each powerful snap of his hips.
“Oh God, Logan,” I whisper, my body trembling in his arms.
“All fucking mine, Liv. Your tight little cunt. Your body. Your fucking heart. You. Are. Mine.” He punctuates each word with another thrust. Another slam of my body down on his. “I don’t care who fucking knows it.”
Oh. My. God.
Logan pulls out, then slams back in, and I shatter, shaking and gasping and exploding around him as he empties himself inside me on a silent roar, his mouth open and muscles tight. Our eyes locked and my mind spinning.
“I think you ripped my shorts,” I laugh, out of breath as he lowers my legs to the ground.
“Put on my real jersey. It’ll be so big, no one will even see your shorts.” He grins.
“But then they’ll know what we were doing in here.” My cheeks flame as I feel the evidence of our orgasms dripping down my thigh.
“You’re my wife, Olivia. It would be a hell of a way to confirm it.”
I’d think he was teasing, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s not.
I hold out my hand. “Where’s your jersey?”