When the head of my cock grazed his hole, we both shuddered.
When it slipped inside, his back arched, and I groaned.
When I pressed in and he swallowed me whole, I forgot my own name.
Until Finn yelled, “Fucking holy hell, Chase. Make me yours.”
Chapter 43
Finn
Imade it to the bar around seven o’clock. There hadn’t been time to go home and change, so I arrived in the same rumpled, barbeque-reeking shirt and shorts I’d worn all day. I hoped the smell of sex didn’t override the scent of seared chicken.
Chase and I spent two hours in his bed. He did, indeed, bang my brains out. Then we lay there in each other’s arms, still coated in salty, sticky goodness. We talked, we laughed—God, we laughed—we had sex again. Somewhere in the midst all of that, we said, “I love you,” approximately five hundred times.
My face hurt from smiling.
The bar was crowded but not slammed, a decent Saturday night crowd. The Lightning returned from a long road stretch yesterday and had a few days off to rest and recover, their next game on Tuesday night at home. That meant we didn’t have any watch parties planned, save the one baseball game onSunday, but those didn’t come close to the excitement—or the increased business—hockey offered.
Benji reigned behind the bar, his crown of neon hair visible from across the room.
Jacks was clearing tables near the front.
Mark was at the register, looking up as I walked in.
His grin was immediate and far too knowing.
Oh God.
My stomach dropped.
I waded through the crowd toward the bar, trying to look casual and professional, like I hadn’t just spent the entire afternoon having the best sex of my life with a man who loved me.
I made it three steps before Benji spotted me.
And yelled.
Loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.
“SOMEONE LOOKS FRESHLY FUCKED!”
Everyone—and I meaneveryone—turned to look at me. I even saw Rod’s head poking through the dispatch window.
I wanted to turn and run.
“Benji!” I hissed, reaching the bar. “Could you be any louder?”
“I could try!” He was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “But seriously, boss, you’re glowing. Like, literally glowing. I could see you from space. You look like youjust—”
“Benji, I swear to God—”
“Might not be able to sit down all night?” Mark appeared at my elbow, his smile just as knowing as Benji’s. “Because that’s what it looks like.”
“Bloody hell.”
“You love us,” Jacks said, appearing with a tray of empties. He looked me up and down, then bent to sniff the air in front of my chest. “You smell like barbecue sauce and . . . pineapple? I didn’t see any fruit there today.”
Mark lost it and had to retreat to the back.
