Page 83 of Playing for Keeps

As I steadily pushed my fingers deeper, her lashes lifted and her green eyes locked on mine. She clenched around me, her hips pushing up to meet every move. I stroked her until she was begging, her fingers grabbing my hair, holding me tight. I gave her everything – my tongue, lips, and teeth – until she was helplessly shuddering beneath me.

By the time I slid back up to her mouth, she was whispering my name like a prayer, her whole body shaking with need. Only then did I reach for a condom, rip it open and roll it on. I pushed against her, caught her eyes again, and sank into her in one long, deep thrust.

We both groaned, the sound wrecked, as if we both had been starving for this. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me closer. I moved slow at first, drawing it out, enjoying the way she clenched around me and the feel of her nails digging into my back.

“You feel so good,” I whispered, kissing her jaw, mouth, and anything else I could reach.

I set a steady pace, letting her ride each thrust higher. She tightened around me, her body shuddering as she broke apart again. I wanted to lose it right then, but I didn’t. Not yet. I wanted her needy. Squirming. I slowed down, dragging it out so I could feel every flutter of her body against mine. She was sensitive, but she didn’t let me stop. Her soft whimpers urged me on, tightening her legs around my waist, her mouth desperate against mine.

I found a new rhythm, harder, deeper, until I felt her climb again. She gasped, her body tensing, and a helpless little sound escaped her throat as she shattered a third time. My control snapped. I pressed my forehead against hers, my hips driving harder now, chasing the edge I couldn’t hold back any longer.

When it hit, it was sharp and consuming. I groaned against her neck, spilling into her, every muscle in my body locking tight before letting go completely.

For a long while after, all I could do was breathe against her – sweat-slick, her body still wrapped around me, her fingers tangled in my hair like she wasn’t ready to let go either. When I eased back, she looked up at me with a lazy, satisfied smile.

“Better?” she asked, her British accent catching on the word in a way that made me ache.

“Yeah,” I said, brushing my lips over hers. She was so warm and happy. And that was when it hit me… somewhere between hockey talks, hot chocolates, and late nights, I’d fallen in love with her. I wasn’t ready to say it yet. I just needed to feel her here, breathing with me, for a little longer. So I kept it to myself and kissed her again instead.

38

MAX

Sunlight hit me before my alarm got the chance. For a split second, I didn’t know where I was. Then I caught her scent – that flowery warmth stuck to the sheets. Emma’s place.

She was still asleep, her arm slung over the pillow. The sheet barely covered her hips, and her skin glowed in that first, gentle light. I just lay there and watched her breathe – the soft rise and fall that made the whole world slow down. I should’ve left for morning skate already, but I couldn’t bring myself to move yet. My body felt heavy, quiet. Like the noise in my head had shut up for once.

I kissed her shoulder, pulled the sheet up over her, and eased myself out of bed. She didn’t wake up, just sighed and shifted closer to the space I’d been in. I sat up, grabbed my jeans and pulled them on. My shirt had vanished. All I could find was this sweatshirt that was too small for me by a mile, so I left it and made my way downstairs.

No coffee in the house, of course, so tea it was. Emma kept saying I’d learn to love it, but so far, no luck. I sat at her kitchen table, mug in hand, surrounded by her life: open notebook, pen uncapped, essays with red marks everywhere. For some reason, that hit me hard. Maybe because everything felt so much like her, and I realized I wanted in. Not just as a visitor, but for real.

The floor creaked, and when I looked up, she was in the doorway wearing my missing shirt, which fell past her thighs. Her hair was a mess, her eyes still a bit sleepy. She smiled and, honestly, that smile just stopped me cold.

“You’re up early,” she said, her voice low and husky.

“Practice,” I said. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

She came over, eyeing my mug. “You found the kettle.”

“Yeah. Nothing worth drinking, though.”

That earned a laugh – the sound of her fully awake now. Her fingers brushed my arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, while standing up. “Better than okay.”

Her eyes held mine for a moment longer than usual, something warm and sure passing between us. “You’ll be late.”

“I know. I am going to need my shirt, though.”

She looked down, pretending to think it over. “You sure? It fits me better.”

“Emma.”

She grinned, then started unbuttoning, one by one, deliberately slow. “You could just stay,” she teased.

I leaned in and kissed her, slow and deep, letting her know I wished I could.

She pressed my shirt into my hands, her fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. “Go win something.”