He was ready for me to move back to Buffalo to rejoin my old team, if that’s what I wanted.
And I considered it seriously. But something has fundamentally changed in me.
Going back felt like going backward.
Who am I beyond my athletic performance?
What’s next?
When the course of my life was derailed by the accident, other paths opened. One in which hockey is part of my life, but not at the center. This new direction brought me straight into Dexter’s arms, where I’ve always belonged.
Today, he’s still my best friend.
He’s also my husband and soulmate.
The sound of the garage door opening announces his arrival from skills practice and an extended rehab session that took all day.
Dexter steps into the living room in his Mavericks workout gear, sweatpants stretched by thick hockey thighs and hair still wet from the shower.
He is so irresistible, my body springs into motion to get closer. I sidestep landmines of ornaments to throw myself at him. He catches me easily, and I bury my face in his neck. Dexter’s unique aroma of sandalwood and pine and him fills my senses.
“You are, by far, the sexiest Santa’s workshop employee in the world.” His deep voice mixes with a sexy chuckle. He points to the mistletoe I’d pinned over the kitchen doorway. “I like it when you run to give me a kiss.”
I shrug in pretend nonchalance. “Rules are rules. Gotta kiss under the mistletoe.”
“Better have one of those under every door,” he says with a smirk before fusing our mouths for a ravenous, bruising kiss. He pulls away to mumble against my mouth. “You taste so fucking good, Sabrina. Like hot chocolate and candy canes.”
He lifts me so my legs wrap around his waist, our kiss deepening. Cocooned in his arms, I feel supported and treasured. When he props me on the dining table, scoots me to the edge, and lodges his cock against my center, I feel something else. His arousal stimulates my clit while he nibbles down my neck. A large hand slides under my sweater and cups my breast. I moan at the blissful sensation of our bodies grinding.
“Are you wet for me, Baby Brie?” He uses our private nickname whenever he wants to get my attention. He definitely has my attention.
“Yes. Take me to bed, Dex.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
He grabs a pillow from the couch and places it behind my back.
“Lie down. I’m hungry.”
God, I love when he gets like this. From sweet to spicy in a blink.
I tug at the bottom of his shirt, but he shakes his head.
Dexter whips off my sweater and bends to take a breast in his mouth. He dives in without hesitation, as if he’s been thinking about it all day and can’t wait to get his fill. I arch at the intensity of pleasure. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and tweaks the other.
I lift my hips, trying to get more friction, but he moves down to kiss my belly button. His hands are busy ripping off the rest of my clothes until I’m wiggling and naked and wrecked with lust.
“Dex, please,” I beg. Instead of kissing me where I need him most, he stands and starts unwrapping something.
“Are you opening a candy cane?” I squeak, choked with incredulity.
Why am I naked while he is fully dressed and indulging in bonbons?
He takes the candy into his mouth, tongue flicking against it, and I lose my train of thought because he is nearly too lovely to look at. Eyes the color of blue hydrangeas, hair and beard I could stroke all day, and full lips I’m dying to kiss again.
My husband, who is apparently a mind reader, bends back down and slams our mouths together. I open for him, loving the way the hit of sweet peppermint gives way to something even more delicious.
God, I could kiss him all day.
