“Chin up, baby. There’s always next time. When do you supervise again?”
“I have the three-week session in British Columbia in the fall.”
The lines of his mouth slip into a lazy grin. “Fingers crossed for an ugly mug or something then.”
I roll my eyes, pushing at his shoulder even though he doesn’t move an inch, before I brush his hair off his forehead, all mussed from sleep and hiding the scar he doesn’t mind keeping on display anymore. “How was your head while I was gone? The new pills?”
His specialist put him on something new—a CGRP receptor blocker. It’s supposed to help with migraine prevention. Bohdan leans into my hand, and I drag my thumb down the bridge of his nose before letting it rest in the centre of his lip. He bites at it before nodding. “Really fucking good, actually. I think I only had one episode the entire time you were gone.”
“Did you skate at all?” I ask. It’s been a big topic of conversation with his psychiatrist. How to reclaim pieces of the him he used to be without tumbling back in time.
He nods. There’s a tiny twinge of something that used to be pain in his smile, but it looks a bit more like wistfulness now. “Yeah, when Jay was in town. During their practice. It was fun to be on a pro-level rink again.”
“What else did you do?” I sit up straight, brushing a hand along the pop of muscle on his shoulder, down his carved chest.
He inhales sharply when my fingers graze his skin. “I went up to Uxbridge with Gavin to golf. Talon’s not in town. There’s a course up there where all the holes are mirrored after famous ones from around the world.”
“The retired professional hockey player turned golfer? What a cliché you are.” I paint my hand down the ridges of his stomach, fingers toying with the elastic stretching taught across the V of muscle dipping there. “No raccoon shirt?”
“Sorry. Fresh out of vermin clothes. I’ll leave those to you.” He grins but it quickly shifts when my hand skates across the length of him, straining against the fabric of his shorts.
“Did you miss me?” I whisper.
“Can’t you tell?” He presses against my palm.
I blink, sliding my hand across him again. “You want to make love?”
“Make love?” He gives me a flat look, but he rolls his shoulders back, exhaling loudly.
“Sex, but make it romantic. Proper.” I tip my chin up. “You know, the way we would when you’d get home from all those long road trips.”
His fingers wrap around my wrist, stilling my hand. His eyes darken and his voice turns to gravel. “How about I just fuck you senseless?”
“Indecent.” I purse my lips.
“Zlatícko,” he warns when I try to move my hand again.
My grip tightens, and he loses his restraint quickly.
He sits up, too fast for me to stop him, but I shriek, laughing, when he flips us over and pins me beneath him on our bed.
One of his knees knocks my thighs apart, and he swallows the sound I make when he angles his hips down, right against the centre of me.
His tongue slides against mine, his teeth dig into my bottom lip, his hands—rough and warm andhis—strip off my clothes, and each messy, too-hurried moment says the same thing—I missed you.
He spends a bit of time trailing kisses down my neck, biting where it meets my shoulder, tongue swirling across my chest,tugging each nipple between his teeth and kissing away the hurt while his fingers make small circles between my legs that have me panting.
“I love you,” he groans into my neck when his fingers, soaked with me, move to my leg, splaying against my thigh and lifting it when he angles his hips, moving so he’s finally inside me.
“I love you, too.” I say it back like a reflex, something you don’t even think about. Certainly not something that hurts.
His forehead rests against mine, breathing ragged, and then his hands are on my hips, flipping us over again so I’m on top of him.
“Fuck.” Bohdan drops his head against the pillow, eyes closing, lines of his neck tense. His thumbs dig into my hips, bruising, as he moves them in time with his.
I tip my head back, a moan catching in my throat, and my nails dig into his chest.
I hear these words he says: my name like something he’s prayed for his entire life, krásná and dokonalá over and over again.
