Gavin holds me all night long, and when I wake, I’m warm and satiated in a way I haven’t been in a long time. I crack my eyes open, the sun filtering into the room, and stretch my legs.
“Mmm,” Gavin says from beside me. “I could get used to waking up next to you.”
Me too.
Maybe a little too used to it. I think I already did after my first night in the apartment. I even slept on the couch with his blanket while he was on the road because it didn’t feel right being here without him. I don’t tell him that, instead putting my mouth to good use by pressing kisses all over his chest. The hair there tickles my nose, and I love the way it feels against my chin.
I trail a path up, never once taking my lips off him. I trace over his throat, loving how he swallows roughly, and the dimple in his chin, up until I reach his lips. I kiss him the same way he kissed me last night—with everything I have, telling him how he makes me feel without actually saying it. After I have my way with him, I pull away and get my first look at him.
I gasp. “Oh my god!”
“What? What is it?” Gavin’s eyes fly open, wide with worry as he checks me over. “What’s wrong?”
I cover my mouth, pointing at him. “Your… Your face!”
“What?” He reaches up, then winces when he makes contact with the nasty wound. “Fuck, that hurts.”
Somehow, with all the pleasure from last night, I forgot about him taking the puck to the face. Clearly, he did too, but now looking at him… Let’s just say I won’t be forgetting it for quite a while.
“How bad is it?”
I grimace as I take in his swollen cheek. It looks like he has a baseball stuffed in there or got some really, really crappy filler done. “Uh, bad.”
He scrambles off the bed and into the bathroom to check it out.
“Well, safe to say I’ll be wearing a fishbowl for a while,” he calls out.
“Fishbowl? What’s that?” I ask as I climb off the bed, grabbing my discarded shirt and tugging it over my head.
We didn’t bother putting our clothes on after our shower. It seemed pointless at the time, and we were right. Gavin woke me up at six AM with his tongue between my legs, bringing me to completion before fucking me slow and sweet. I try to find my underwear but give up when they aren’t anywhere to be found.
“It’s a style of helmet. The NHL uses them for injuries.”
“Wait—you’re still playing after that?”
He chuckles, coming out of the bathroom, and I try my best not to look at his cock hanging half-hard between his legs. “Hell yes, I’m still playing. I’ve scored in every game this season so far. No way am I sitting out.”
The look on my face must tell him exactly how I feel about it because he crosses the room, gathering me into his arms.
“Hey,” he says, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “I’ll be okay, I promise. The fishbowl will protect me, and it looks a lot worse than it feels.”
I wince. “It just looks so…”
“Ugly?”
I roll my eyes. “Please, even all banged up, there is nothing ugly about you, Gavin.”
“Nothing?”
“Well…”
He tickles my sides, and I squeal with laughter.
“Stop! Stop! That’s so unfair!” I say, squirming in his grasp.
“Unfair how?” He continues his assault. “I’mthe injured one here.”
“Because you’re stronger than me and bigger!”
