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"You need to come, baby. I can feel it."
"I've never…" Her soft whisper barely reaches me.
I lift my head, meeting her gaze. "Me either."
She blinks those long lashes at me, shock painted across her gorgeous face. "You're a virgin?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes."
I chuckle at her response. "There's a reason your brother trusted me with you, Dimples."
"He knows?"
"It's not a secret." I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, trying not to bite it. Focusing on this conversation when she's beneath me is damn hard. "I've never hidden who I am from the people who matter." I pause. "You're one of those people, in case you're wondering."
Her gaze flits across my face, searching for something. Some hint that I'm just fucking with her, perhaps. She doesn't trust easily. I think she wants to trust me, though. I see it in her eyes. But she's afraid to take that leap. Afraid, perhaps, of where she might land.
I get it. Putting your heart in someone else's hands is a terrifying prospect. I think maybe it's the most terrifying prospect for a woman like Aspen, one so fiercely independent that she moved across the country alone just to put space between her and her overprotective brother. She's never been in love before, but she has known loss. An infinite well of it. How daunting it must seem to risk her heart knowing how badly it can break.
But Aspen is no coward. She doesn't run from the things that frighten her. When faced with a choice between doing what's safe and doing what scares her, I think she'd choose what scares her every single time.
Trusting me scares the hell out of her.
"Kiss me," she whispers.
I willingly oblige, brushing my lips across hers until she softens beneath me, going pliant in my arms with a sweet sigh of surrender. Tension drains from her, her fears lying quietly.
I kiss her until she's shifting restlessly beneath me, little whimpers breaking from her lips. She needs release. I know she didn't sleep any better than I did last night. Nearly being shot this morning didn't help. She needs five minutes to forget everything but how good she can feel.
Maybe it's selfish of me to want to be the one who gives her that, but I fucking need it. I'm losing it for her. In more ways than one.
Little by little, she's consuming me. Every thought leads back to her. Obsession has taken root over the last twenty-four hours, and it's only growing stronger.
I've been certain of exactly two things in my life. Hockey and the woman beneath me. She feels like my future, deep in my bones. I can't explain it. Hell, I'm not sure there is an explanation that doesn't sound completely insane. But I saw her, and I knew. Just like that.
I need her on the same page. By any means necessary.
I kiss my way down her throat, pulling her shirt up at the same time. There's no way I'm getting a taste of her without seeing her spread out beneath me.
She shivers as I skim my hands up her sides, loving her softness. Her skin. Her body. All of it is soft and perfect. My dick has never been this hard. I've never wanted to get inside someone as badly as I want in her.
Hanging onto my virginity was never the battle people seem to think it was. I didn't dodge temptation at every turn. No one ever interested me enough to tempt my focus away from my career. Not until now. Not until her.
She leans up, allowing me to pull her shirt off over her head. I drop it off the side of the bed, laying her back to get a look at her.
Early morning sunlight spills in through windows, giving her a golden glow. Her full breasts peek from the tops of her red bra. Her hard nipples press against the thin fabric. She's so goddamn beautiful.
"Jesus, Dimples," I whisper, running my thumb over her nipple. "I didn't know you were going to blow my mind before I ever got my mouth on you."
A pretty blush climbs up her cheeks. Her eyes flit across my face, searching again. Whatever she sees there makes her smile. "I always thought supermodels would be more your type."
"Fuck no." I grimace at the thought, not because I have anything against supermodels but simply because the thought is preposterous to me. And then her statement truly sinks in. "You thought about me."
"No!"
"You did."
