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I am not one for swearing, but fuck.
I raise a brow and pop a hip, feigning confidence. “We’re here, aren’t we? Standing in our home, together.”
“Right.” Britney’s mouth twitches at the sides. She can see right through my bravado.
“Both of you get your stuff, and get out of my house, or I am calling the police.” Turning sharply, I pat Ash on the chest. “I’m just going to grab my Santa’s little helper costume for Candy’s party.”
He smacks me on the ass as I leave.
Suck on that Britney. In my head, I give her the bird.
“Where the hell am I going to go now, Ash?” I hear Wade’s desperate voice as I climb the stairs leading to my bedroom.
“You’re not my problem for the next eight weeks, Wade. I was trying to help you, but you threw that in my face. You should never have brought Britney into my home,” Ash replies. “Now do as my wife asked. Get the fuck out of our house. You could maybe stay with Britney.” I laugh at the sarcasm dripping from his suggestion. “You’ll be allowed to continue your relationship with her once management fires her for having sexual relations with a player.” It’s prohibited. She knew that when she signed her contract.
“Ash, please don’t do that,” she begs in her whining tone.
“You’ve been a thorn in the Eagles’ side since the day you arrived on the hockey scene.”
That’s the last of the conversation I hear as I sit on the end of the bed listening to Ash’s muffled barked orders at both Wade and Britney.
The front door slams, alerting me to their exit, and I wait in the bedroom for Ash to come and find me.
“Fucking hockey players,” Ash mutters, making me laugh, as he walks through the bedroom door.
“Fucking puck bunnies,” I counter.
Ash roars with laughter and it’s so contagious I join in. “What’s so funny?”
“Unless we are having sex, you never swear. It took a puck slut for you to stoop to my level.”
I throw myself back on the mattress. “She makes me mad.” I grit through my teeth. “She had sex on our sofa.”
The bed dips by my side. “And Wade’s sweaty ass,” he groans.
I roll my head against the comforter. “Let’s burn it.”
“I think we should sell the house.” Knowing Ash, he probably knew all along that I wasn’t as in love with this house as I hoped I would be.
“Me too,” I finally confess. Finding Britney here tarnished it even further. It was the final nail in the coffin to push me and make my decision. “New Year, fresh start.”
“Let’s make love in our bed before we sell that too.” His fingers move under my jersey, tickling the skin of my waist with his touch. “And you and I are moving back into the apartment together. I don’t want to spend another night apart.” He climbs on top of me and pushes my arms up over my head.
“I have a life sized, plastic gingerbread house to erect by four o’clock this afternoon,” I protest.
“Well, I’m erect now, and you need to help me with it.” He rubs his impressive length against my hip.
Giggling, we are naked within seconds. “You had better be quick,” I gasp when he pushes himself inside of me.
But with Ash, it never is.
For the rest of the afternoon and the entire week leading up to Christmas, we spend the time between the sheets, in a rumbled mess, where I’m sure he’s trying to kill me with orgasms.
Or make a baby.
The latter would be a dream come true.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
