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She was older now.
Definitely not the same seventeen-year-old girl I last saw with tears running down her cheeks as I drove away to make a name for myself in the world of hockey.
Sage was a woman now.
Everything about her filled out.
“You look fucking beautiful, Sage,” I said.
“Henry,” she whispered.
“Hey, buddy, we’re having something here,” the guy said from her left.
I didn’t move my eyes from Sage’s.
I needed her to tell me to leave. Or to handle this guy.
Because the thought of this guy touching her… kissing her… his tongue licking around one of her nipples… moving down, seeking her clit and her pussy…
I curled my lip.
Sage swallowed hard and gave the smallest of nods.
That was my cue.
I looked away from her to the guy. “Sorry, man. She’s got better plans now.”
“What the hell? Who the hell are you?”
“I’m sorry,” Sage said, turning her head. “This is my… Henry… This is Henry.”
“Who the fuck is Henry?”
“I’m Henry,” I said to the guy. “And if you don’t lower your voice and calm your tone toward Sage, I’m going to make you eat that glass in front of you.”
“Oh, I get it,” the guy said. “This is a scam, right? You two are together. Some sick fucking couple. She likes to watch you beat guys up, right?”
“Want to find out, buddy?” I asked.
“What a waste of fucking time and money,” the guy said.
“That’s the risk,” Sage said. “I mean, you only talked to me because you wanted to fuck me. You lost this one. Move on.”
He opened his mouth.
“Think long and hard about what you want to say to her right now,” I warned.
The guy held back on his words and left the bar.
Sage then jumped up off her barstool and threw her arms around me.
I wrapped my arms around her and picked her up.
I couldn’t help myself as I touched her.
Feeling the way she became a woman.
The way her breasts pressed against me.
