Page 67 of Put a Rink on It

“Why?”

“Because even in college, your stamina, the way you could coerce an orgasm out of me, was top tier compared to some grown men I fell into bed with.” After her confession, her gaze never leaves mine.

I try not to react outwardly, honoring her “without your ego coming into play” request, but damn if that’s not something every guy wants to hear. I move from the left breast to the right, paying it the same attention, watching as her nipples pebble as I draw zigzags around them.

“I’m sorry for being that guy for you, even back then. Or should I be sorry no one lived up to my standards?”

I should not relish in the latter. Just because she hasn’t found a man to satisfy her like I can doesn’t mean he’s not out there. It doesn’t mean she won’t find him someday. A horrible thought if ever there was one.

A slow smile claims her lips. “Damn, Champ. I’m so glad you reminded me what it was like between us. I’m so glad you suggested we pick this back up, almost as if we never let it go. Or does it only feel that way for me?”

“Without me sounding like I’m copying you, same. I was so lost in you, it’s like the years between us were obliterated.” Her smile enlarges, tiny crinkle lines forming at the corners of her eyes.

I keep the comments about other women to myself, not wanting to bring up a sore subject, and definitely not wanting to know more about the men who couldn’t satisfy her. All that matters is I can. “How about dinner and your pussy as a treat?”

“Sure, sure.”

CHAPTER 21

marina

Abuzzing sound wakes me from a deep sleep.

I’m snuggled in Nero’s arms, comfortable, protected, safe. Weirdly, it’s like where I belong, even if I never realized it was missing from my life until now.

The buzzing sound repeats.

“Nero, what is that?” He pulls me tighter as if he’s afraid I’m going to leave. As if there’s anywhere else I want to be.

“Sounds like a phone.” His deep rasp sends shivers along my spine, evoking memories from several years ago.

“It’s the middle of the night. Who the hell is calling you? Maybe you should answer it.”

“How do you know it’s my phone?” comes his muffled response.

“It’s coming from your side, where you left yours on your nightstand.”

“I like how ‘your side’ implies you also have a side.”

“Answer the damn phone.”

Reluctantly, he lets me go to reach for the offending device. I’m going by feel, since the room’s pitch-black.

“What?” he barks, his voice too loud for being woken up by a ringing phone.

“Engaged? You’re fucking engaged, Nero? What is this nonsense I’m seeing on social media?” Kaitlyn’s voice saturates the silent room.

Oh shit. I can’t decipher if she’s more angry or hurt.

Something rustles, and a light turns on, and Nero sits up against the headboard.

“What are you talking about? And why are you calling me at two o’clock in the morning?” His raspy voice contrasts with the quiet room, and his frustration bounces off the walls.

“It’s only eleven here.”

“How convenient for you,” he deadpans.

“Imagine my surprise when I open up my social media app and there you are, front and center, at some rink in Connecticut, your arm around Marina Keeley.”