I had to say I didn’t object to her following my instructions, or how her eyes hazed over with my dirty talk. Honestly, I had loved every minute.
But now that I had fulfilled my function, I needed to go. Only my feet were suddenly clay, a bad trait for a hockey player. If I had skates on, could I glide my way out of here? Or would I be stuck at the bathroom door, staring at the woman who might soon be the mother of my kid?
I moved closer and took a seat on the bed beside her. She stirred, her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled.
That smile was something else. So she was in a vulnerable spot, well-fucked and sexed-out after the good time I’d given her. As she had never shown me anything close to that kind of affection, I had to blame it on the power of my cock.
Dick of a thousand smiles.
I couldn’t help myself: I had to touch her again. I pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She had removed her glasses and placed them on the nightstand.
“I fell asleep?”
“Just for a few minutes. I think you’re worn out with the stress of it all.” My fingertips liked where they’d landed. They continued to stroke the side of her head, and she leaned into my hand like a sleepy kitten.
“Are you leaving?”
“I thought you might want some time to process what happened.”
She blinked slowly. “We said we’d try again tomorrow before you headed off to morning skate.”
I nodded, weird hope taking root in my chest. “We did.”
“It might be easier if … you stayed.”
“I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught going back and forth.”
“No. And while there’s no scientific evidence that multiple attempts in a twenty-four-hour period increase the chances of conception, there’s also no scientific evidence that says they don’t.”
I loved when she applied the science.
“If I stayed here, we could take another shot or two before the morning.”
No correction to my addition of “or two” to that proposal.
The coverlet had slipped, revealing those stellar tits cupped by that sexy bra. Jesus, I was getting turned on again, but I had to give her a chance to recover.
“I’m kind of hungry, though,” she said.
“You haven’t eaten?” I’d had dinner with the boys, but it seemed like hours ago. “What do you need, Doc? We need to keep your strength up.”
“It’s probably not great for pre-natal nutrition, but I’d love a hamburger.”
“Give the little one a taste of meat, huh?”
She looked prim. “I’m not going to even bother correct all that’s wrong with that statement. Any chance you’re hungry, too?”
Hell yeah, I was. For more of that sharp mouth and sweet pussy. But for now, I’d make do with room service.
“Let me grab the menu.”
We put in our orders—cheeseburger for her, double cheeseburger for me—and then we sat on the bed, side by side. She had covered up with her LU sweatshirt and leggings and insisted I do the same.
I got the impression she liked my body a little too much.
A few minutes later, she got a call. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
“Go ahead.”
