His head snaps up, his icy blue eyes piercing mine. “Fuck, Harper, is that what you think?”
My mouth falls open and I start to shake my head. “I…I don’t know.”
He brings his hand up and pushes my hair from my face. “Babe, you couldn’t be more wrong.” He steps closer to me so that our bodies are flush, his hardened cock pressing against my lower stomach. “Do you feel that?”
God, yes, I feel it.
“Trust me when I tell you, Harper, that there is nothing I would rather do than spend the rest of this night with you in my arms, in my fucking bed, where I can reacquaint myself with your every gorgeous curve.” He licks his lips. “I’ve wanted you so badly over these last ten years that I’ve all but named my own fist after you.”
His confession makes me blush.
“I wanted you since the very first night you stepped up with Connor in that arena.”
My eyes dart between his, confusion etching across my brow. “I don’t understand. Then why?—”
“Because when we get there—and trust me when I say I have every intention of getting there—it’s going to mean something. I want it to mean something, Harp. I don’t want a quick fuck to scratch an itch. I wantyou. All of you. I want to get it right with you. I want to take my time. Feel you. Taste you. Sink myself inside of you and fuck you until you can barely move and then do it all over again.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead before he says, “Because hearing you scream my name as you come on my cock will be the experience of a lifetime. Better than any hockey game I could ever win.”
Well, when you put it that way…
I blink at him, each word washing over me in heady waves, the weight of his confession sinking deep into my heart. My cheeks flush from the sheer intensity of everything he just said. My body hums with anticipation, and it feels like the world around us fades to black, leaving just the two of us cocooned in this moment, this electric, breathless moment.
“Do you really mean that?” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. The belief in his words plants a hopeful seed deep inside me, but the worry echoes in the back of my mind. Can this actually be real after everything?
“Harper,” he breathes, his hand still tangled in my hair, fingers brushing against my neck and sending shivers down my spine. “I’m not playing games here. I want you to know that every second I spend away from you just makes me realize how much I want you back in my life. And Connor too. I’m not going to rush it. I want to savor every fucking moment.”
The butterflies in my stomach explode into a flurry of excitement, and suddenly all my fears about losing him seem to dim in the warmth of his gaze. “Okay,” I say softly, letting the weight of my heart flow into the words. “Okay.” I don’t want to ruin this moment, this fragile thing between us that feels so right despite the uncertainty.
“Okay,” he repeats with a gentle nod. His expression shifts and he swallows again, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I should go. I just really wanted a taste of you to take with me on this stretch.”
“I hope you got what you wanted.”
“Not even close,” he tells me with a confident shake of his head, his gaze falling to the stiff peaks poking through my tank top. He grips the back of my neck and pulls me in for one more soft kiss. “But it’s enough. For now,” he murmurs. “Until next time.”
“Until next time.” Hope flutters through my chest. “You’ll text me when you can?”
“You know I will.” He backs up, opening the door and standing in the doorway. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
He takes one step out my door and I’m stepping toward him like a moth to a flame. I grab his T-shirt greedily and tug him toward me one last time, crashing my lips to his. His hands fly up to my face and then caress the back of my head as he angles me and dips his tongue between my lips.
One last taste for the road.
The guttural groan emanating from his chest is enough to light my body on fire all over again.
“Goodbye, H,” I whisper when I finally let go. “Good luck out there. We’ll be cheering for you.”
“Bye Harp. Give Connor a hug for me.”
“You know I will.” I smile repeating the phrase he just said to me.
I watch him turn and walk down the hall to the elevator. When I hear the ding that tells me he’s on his way down, I close my door, lock it, and then lean back against it. My hand on my chest, I replay every moment of his lips on mine and then turn off the lights and head to bed.
There’s a battery-operated boyfriend with his name on it that needs to finish me off or hell if I’ll be sleeping at all tonight.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HARRISON
I’m on the plane bright and early this morning waiting for takeoff, strapped into the window seat, duffel shoved under my legs. The team is already half-asleep around me when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
