“That was Crosby’ssecondhome growing up? How many bedrooms does it have?” I know I sound incredulous, but the shock is a lot. Crosby is one of the humblest, most levelheaded people I know. As the newest captain of the team, he leads with a quiet strength. It’s the kind of understated ferocity that makes people sit up and take notice.
“The main house has four, plus the basement can work as an extra space.” Bea turns her phone around, reading moreinformation from Violet. “I think Gus and Obie will double up and stay down there. Then Leo gets a room, and Maeve takes the last one.”
“The rest of the crew?”
Bea flattens her lips, the only sign of her disapproval. “It’s just Andy. Violet talked to them and offered the in-law suite over the garage. They agreed since this isn’t technically a team event.”
“But itispart of my journey. Doesn’t feel right not to offer the opportunity to tag along,” I reason. “The team understands, and Andy promised to be as unintrusive as possible. Just observing the dynamics, not with us twenty-four seven. We’re almost finished.”
Bea sighs, shutting her phone and leaning into my side.
“I know,” she agrees, and I kiss the top of her head. “I just haven’t really spoken to them since that night. I was unnecessarily harsh when they were just doing their job.”
“Honestly? I think Andy knows that. I don’t think they hold it against you in the least.” I’ve gotten to know the director a lot more since filming resumed, especially without Bea acting as my buffer. Andy is passionate and can focus on their narrative, capturing the compelling moments without consideration for anything else around them, but they’re not cold-hearted. But I know Bea is fiercely protective of people she loves, and that clashed wickedly with Andy’s professional obligations the night of my injury. “Maybe on this trip, you can acknowledge how things went, and that will be enough to finally smooth things over. I know how important this assignment was when you got it.”
“I’ll add it to my to-do list.” Bea salutes, exhaustion clear in her tone. She twists to offer me a smile and lifts herself from the couch. “I’m going to get something to drink. Be right back.”
I watch her leave, my black hoodie dropping over the curve of her backside before hitting mid-thigh. I give her a headstart,taking a moment to myself to consider how she closed off when I brought up work. It’s happening more and more, and I haven’t been able to figure out how to help her. Bea has always been career-driven—her professional focus rivals any player I know on the ice. She still tackles her job with attention to detail, but I see how it has begun to hollow her. There’s no joy in the mornings when she leaves for work; the only time I see a spark in her eyes is when she comes home and Natalia launches herself at her for a hug.
After rising to my feet, I follow Bea’s path. She’s twisting the top off a bottle of water, a sad and disconnected look on her face. Quickly, it falls away when she sees me, hiding the shift with a sip. I don’t want to push her to talk about something she isn’t ready to bring up, but I know my girl is battling something inside, and I want to help. Even if my assistance comes in the form of distraction.
I cross the kitchen in a few strides and take the water bottle from her grasp, before setting it aside. Bea’s face scrunches adorably with confusion before I dive in for a kiss. It’s slow and sensual, giving her time to react. When she does, I slide a hand into her hair and angle her head to where I want it, taking the kiss deeper with long strokes of my tongue. Her mouth is sweet and refreshingly cool from the water. I do my best to replace that with heat.
Bea moans beautifully and twists her hands into the material of my shirt, pulling me to her. I follow her lead, walking her against the closed refrigerator before surrounding her with my body. When my hand leaves its cradle at the back of her neck and begins to travel down her side, she rips her mouth away with a gasp.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Her apology has me reeling. Bea’s flushed cheeks and pouty lips make me ache to return to her mouth, but there’s uncertainty in her eyes.
We haven’t crossed this line together again yet. There’s been fingers, toys, and mouths, but nothing more. It’s been interruption after interruption to our coupling; first my rehab, then coping with my panic attack. Sometimes, it’s been in the form of a five-year-old needing an extra snuggle. All of it has been a reflection of our life, but right now, I’m changing what that looks like. Natalia is sound asleep; her nightmares are finally disappearing with the regular time she is spending in therapy.
“Stop treating me like glass,solnyshka.I’m not fragile. I won’t break.” I punctuate my point by hitching Bea up in my arms, resting her on my hips. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around my waist, settling that perfect expanse of heat over my rapidly hardening cock. I slide my hands over the full curve of her ass until I can grip her underneath it.
I lift her slowly, dragging her along every thickening ridge of me through my gray sweatpants, before setting her on the kitchen island. The gasp that parts her lips dissolves into a dark, heated moan when I suck a bruising kiss to her collarbone.
“You’ve been holding yourself together—don’t think I haven’t noticed.” I whisper the truth into her skin. “Taking care of everyone and everything, but it’s time for me to take care of you.”
“Is it okay now? It’s been a hard month, and your heart?—”
“Isfine,” I reassure her. Slowly, I loosen her legs from around me, kneading the flesh of her thighs until they fall apart. Then, I pull one of Bea’s hands loose from the back of my neck, letting her fingertips trace over my skin until I can press them just under my ear. I close my eyes to the perfect sight of Bea sitting like dessert in front of me on the counter and let her feel what I do. I take a deep breath, listening to the sensations in my body, the rhythm of my heartbeat. It’s steady, barely elevated from carrying her.
“Feel that?” I ask, opening my eyes to lock onto her gaze. She nods, eyes glassy, before she blinks away the emotion. I can’t name what this is, but I recognize it. My soulfeelsit, and as much as I can feel our physical connection reignite, it’s the deeper, emotional one I’m more interested in seeing blaze bright between us. I shift her hand until it cradles my face, letting her see the truth. “I’m fine. I’m here. I’myours.”
Bea doesn’t hesitate. She surges forward, and I meet her in the middle for a fierce kiss. Her tongue strokes in, playing with mine in a dance so sensual I can’t help but rock my hips toward her, grinding against her hot core positioned on the edge of the granite. Her mouth breaks from mine on a gasp when I walk my fingers underneath the hem of the worn hoodie she’s wearing. It’s mine, drowning her frame but sparking life to my possessive nature. I lift it easily off her and groan.
“No bra?” I stare hungrily at the hard, dusky peaks atop the soft, pink flesh of her bare breasts.
“I’m not wearing that tit prison when I’m home,” she scoffs. I cup her swells in my hands, my thumb and forefinger rolling her nipples, causing her to arch into my touch. “If you think that’s bad, Nikita, wait until you get me out of these leggings.”
“Solnyshka,”I growl, and she smiles. I pinch them hard, and Bea hisses. I offer an unapologetic smirk before bending to brush away the sting with a soft kiss to each. Bea leans back, her palms flat on the surface, but I don’t want her relaxing in my attention just yet.
“Up,” I tell her. With her help, I get her on the floor in front of me. Before I can hook my thumbs into the material at her waist and pull down the leggings that look like a second skin, Bea grabs my hard cock through my sweats. She strokes up and down, ending her brief tease with a firm squeeze. When she releases me, the rush of blood south has me groaning.“Yebat.”
“No, Nikita.” With a bold and saucy smirk, Bea turns to face the counter. I swallow thickly when she shows off her lack of underwear. Stretching like a cat, flattening her back and pushing out her hips, she looks over her shoulder at me. The angle parts her thighs enough to offer a glimpse of her pussy, glistening with need. “I wantyouto fuckme.”
One-handed, I whip my shirt off. It falls to the floor as I shuck out of my sweats, my cock standing tall. The precum gathered at the tip catches the light, pulling Bea’s focus there. She licks her lips and stares at it, her body beginning to turn toward me.
“Uh-uh,” I chide, running a hand down her spine, relishing the goosebumps that follow the wake of my touch. “Hands on the counter.”
The barest hint of disappointment flashes across Bea’s face. But I’ve waited weeks for this, and I knowexactlywhat I want. When Bea’s hands are spread across the island, I drop to a crouch behind her. Using the back of my hands, I skirt my touch up the inside of her thighs, power coursing through me when she shudders and sighs, pressing her ass out farther.
