I nod frantically.
He leans upward, showing me that body I have committed to memory. I reach forward, sliding my hand down his toned stomach, loving the feeling as much as he does. His brow furrows, a string of breathless moans leaving his mouth, and he comes. Hard. I follow right behind him, moving against his body as he holds me in place.
When the high eases, he lets out a long, relieved breath. He stares down at me and I stare right back, pursing my lips. He lets out a chuckle, falling forward. He kisses me like he loves me. I kiss him like I believe him.
“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to scan my face. “I…I should have?—”
I shake my head, sliding my hand to his jaw. “No, I wanted that. Badly.”
“Yeah?” He searches my eyes, my face.
I brush my thumb against his beard. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He smiles, pressing his lips to mine. Slow. Soft. “Can I sleep over?”
“I guess. Only because I can’t finish that charcuterie board on my own.”
He chuckles, falling to the side of my body, and tugs me to his chest. “Post-sex snack sounds like heaven, to be fair.”
“I get all the olives.”
“Give me, like, five, and we have a deal.”
I pretend to think about it, but then sigh in defeat.
“This is the start of a great fucking story, sweetheart,” he says softly, kissing my hair.
Yeah, I think it just might be…
ariana
EPILOGUE
“Don’t get mad, get quicker!”
I shake my head from the bench, watching Boston gently shove a pouty Bennett Black as he passes him, right after sliding the puck through his little legs. The Black brothers are all in Pittsburgh. Yes, you heard me right.Allthe Black brothers.
All three of them. Four, I think, in a way we can’t see.
I glance down the ice where Kane and Miller watch Boston with Bennett, one beaming with pride, the other exuding discomfort.
We were all surprised he accepted Boston’s invitation, but here he is.
Strangely enough, Miller is especially kind to me. He’s a little cold to his brothers, but I often wonder if it’s easier to be warmer with people who haven’t seen the worst in you. Neither Kane nor Boston call him on it, but when he gets a little testy, I swoop in to talk about Arizona or to ask legal questions about my business plans I’m starting to iron out. Work seems to calm him down. Talking to him is oddly comfortable.
Remi is sitting beside me, smiling as Kent crashes into his Uncle Miller’s legs. She particularly loves the way that her kidsshove their love onto him. They force him out of his shell a bit because they refuse to stop bothering him, and there is not much he can do but accept it. Miller catches him by the shoulders and awkwardly lets him go. But Kent, cute as a button, adjusts his helmet on his head and beams up at his uncle like he hung the moon.
He’s taken a liking to grumpy Uncle Mills. He follows him around like his shadow and imitates his movements like he’s the coolest guy in the world.
Moseley giggles in Remi’s lap, reaching for a strand of my blonde hair. He has a fixation with my hair. I don’t know why. I appease him every time and let him pull, twirl, or shove the ends of it into his mouth. Whatever keeps him smiling. Mose is the happiest kid in the world. Pure joy. I’m putty for him and he knows it.
“Ah, there he is!” Boston calls.
Declan Lowes slides onto the ice with his token, dimpled smile. He skates right toward Bennett, holds out a fist, and waits for the little guy to shake off his frustration and tap his glove to his hand.
Boston starts to set up some cones on the ice, since Bennett practically begged to work on his stick handling while he was down here. As he gets things ready, Declan greets both of Boston’s brothers and offers us ladies (and Mose) a wave. Bennett brightens within a few seconds, like he usually does, forgetting that he was just about ready to drop the gloves with his uncle thirty seconds ago.
He can’t be angry. Not in this arena. Not on this ice. He’s about to be coached by his uncleandthe best center in the league. Any young hockey player, even one related to Boston Black, dreams of this kind of experience. Those green eyes flip a switch and suddenly, the little superstar is in the zone.
