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14.
Jamie
“Is everything okay?” I asked Hope over a late dinner. I’d finally summoned the stones to broach the subject. She’d been quiet and distracted since our impromptu public threesome. I thought we were on the same page. Maybe I’d misread the look she gave me when Rowan caught us. The fact that she still hadn’t answered me only stoked my fears, and my head was a hornet’s nest of intrusive thoughts as I waited on pins and needles for her reply.
“I’m fine,” she said at last, in a way that told me she definitely wasn’t.
“Okay,” I said, and I did my best to drop it. A bold and harrowing effort that lasted all of three seconds. “You’ve just been kind of withdrawn ever since that night at Copper’s.”
There it was, sitting on the table between us. I swear she flinched. I was getting more concerned by the second that we were on wildly different pages with this kink stuff.
She dropped her fork with a clatter. I held my breath, afraid to hear what she might say.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed, surprising me. “It’s not that, and it’s not you. Work has been…hell. And, okay, yes, I’m worried that all your teammates know what we did and think I’m a slut like Rowan does.”
I stared at her, eyes wide. I wanted to cut across her, to reassure her, but I knew that interrupting wouldn’t help anything.
“I guess I’m embarrassed,” she said with a sad little shrug that hollowed me out.
“Baby,” I said, moving into the chair beside her and cupping the back of her head with my hand, sinking my fingers into her hair. She wouldn’t look directly at me. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Hope,” I insisted. Her eyes slid to mine but the look in them didn’t reassure me. “No one thinks you’re a slut. That’s just dirty talk.” She let out a derisive snort and I slid my hand down to grip the back of her neck, giving her a gentle little shake. “Listen to what I’m saying, because it’s important.”
When she went still, I took a deep breath.
“Hope, you are most men’s fantasy come to life. I mean, come on. You own a mirror, right? The last thing a fucking hockey team is going to do is pass judgment on a beautiful, sexually adventurous woman.” I saw a sparkle in her eyes now, the hint of a smile. “Is it a problem for you if people know?”
She considered the question. My stomach swam while I waited. I knew we would have to be relatively open about what we were doing if we wanted to find sexual partners. Few people were as forward as Rowan, stepping into an intimate moment between two people they barely knew, without a word spoken. But with the drama swirling around the Prospectors, I knew why she was nervous.
“I don’t know. I mean, in theory, no. Obviously, if we’re going to bring other people in, we’d have to let other people know we’re interested.” I bit my lips together to hide my smile. It was eerie how often we were on the same wavelength. Almost like the sibling language she shared with her brother Reid. Maybe since I was best friends with Reid for years before Hope and I got together, I’d picked up some of their wordless communication and carried it into my relationship with his sister.
“I just can’t stand the thought of people whispering about me, talking about our business. I remember, with Lola, it was all so public and at the time I thought that I would never want to be so exposed. I was sure that nothing was worth that. And that was before they became internet celebrities. She doesn’t seem to give a fuck. But she’s always been the brave one, fearless. I prefer to hide myself away from the prying eyes of other people. And I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Branson doesn’t have any chill about this right now. I’m pretty sure he’d hit the roof if another one of his teams made the news because of a sex scandal.”
The ache in my chest was almost unbearable as I watched tears gather in her lower lashes.
“Fuck Branson. And baby, this is the minor leagues. I promise you, no one is paying close enough attention to us to care what we’re doing on the ice, let alone in our bedrooms. And even if they did, I don’t care. You’re too wonderful to ever hide, Hope.” I said it with my whole chest, brushing the side of her neck with my thumb. Her dirty-blonde hair was heavy on my wrist. I wrapped it around my arm once, twice, before gripping the makeshift ponytail at the nape of her neck. Using it like a rudder, I forced her to turn and look at me. A single tear fell down her perfect cheek as we stared into each other’s eyes. “Do you believe me?”
I saw her falter and gave her hair a little tug.
“Do you?” I asked again.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, like she was afraid to say the words out loud. I blinked at her, momentarily stunned silent. I’d never seen this Hope—so uncertain, so unsure of herself, her wants, her needs. We’d always been able to talk openly, about anything. But now, I could feel her shutting me out.
I released my grip on her hair and it fell like a silk curtain down her back. Then I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her into my lap. She rested her head on my chest, going soft in my arms and closing her eyes. I dropped a kiss on her forehead, then one on each eyelid.
“If you don’t want to do this, all you have to do is say so. That night can be a one-off in an otherwise closed, vanilla relationship. If that’s what you want?” I meant what I said. Most guys never got a chance to live out their depraved fantasies. She’d already given me more than I ever knew I could have, and I would give her anything she asked for in return.
She waited so long to respond that I was afraid she wasn’t going to. But then, the slightest shift of her head. She was shaking itno.
“Then tell me what you do want,” I said, cradling her against my chest and breathing in the sweet cinnamon scent of her hair.
Again, the longest pause in the history of uncomfortable conversations. She had me squirming in my seat—and not just from the blind, near-painful arousal that came with the territory every time she sat in my lap.
“I want to be a slut,” she said in a thin little voice. I notched my knuckle under her chin and raised her eyes to mine. When I saw the bashful but determined look on her face, I couldn’t help but grin. “I want to beyourslut,” she emphasized as her grey eyes searched mine. I opened my mouth but I couldn’t formulate any words. I mean, what the hell do you say to that? The girl of my dreams, the woman I loved more than I’d ever loved anything, just told me that she wanted to be a slut for me. But I still needed to know…
“Just me?” I murmured, lowering my lips until they hovered a breath away from hers. I felt her exhale against my hot skin.
“You,” she affirmed, and then after another agonizing pause, she added, “and anyone you want to share me with.”
I tensed under her. If my cock was painfully hard a second ago, it was a dangerous weapon now. I was afraid it was going to spear straight through the thin fabric of my workout shorts.
