“Look at you, taking my fingers so perfectly. Your body remembers who you belong to, doesn’t it? So fucking gorgeous when you fight it, but even more beautiful when you give in.”
Her words turned into incoherent babble as I fingered her roughly, coaxing another orgasm out of her despite her oversensitivity, until her knees gave out and she collapsed.
I caught her and maneuvered her to sit on my lap, my face covered in her juices, so fucking satisfied with myself, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face.
Eva trembled against me, shaking hard. I shrugged out of my hoodie and spread it over her, holding her tight to my chest and sharing my body heat. “So perfect, so generous, taking everything I give you,” I murmured, pressing soft kisses to her temple. “Such a goddamned good girl for me.”
When she didn’t say anything, didn’t get mad, didn’t do anything but snuggle more tightly into me, I crushed her softness against me, her curves molding to my harder planes, her wild curls tickling my chin. She smelled like citrus and vanilla and sex, and when she shivered, I felt it everywhere we touched.
“Eva?” I asked finally, her silence worrying me. “I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”
I moved her off my lap until she leaned against the wall, then took off her warm winter boots, followed by her socks, and then rolled her ruined tights down her legs before using them to wipe down the mess I’d made of her pussy.
She didn’t say anything, her face that fucking mask of composure I’d loved breaking. I cleaned her up, put hersocks and boots back on, and then grimaced when I realized she’d be walking around bare-legged for the rest of the day.
“Don’t worry about it,” she finally said, standing. I was up in a flash to give her my hand. I hauled her up and into my body, wrapping my arms around her so I could hold her tight. Fuck, I’d missed this, the feeling of her softness pressing into my hard body.
Gently, she disentangled herself from me then bent to pick up her tote. Faster than her, I grabbed it. “I’ll walk you to class.”
She looked at me then rubbed her thumb over my lips, her expression softer than I deserved. “Might want to wash up first.”
“Fuck no, sparrow. I want to smell you on my skin all goddamned day.”
To my delight, Eva blushed, her freckled cheeks tinting pink.
She took a deep breath, then another, and then, to my utter surprise, she smiled up at me through her long lashes. “Let’s go, then.”
Fuck yes, sparrow. Let’s go.
31
TRISTAN
My phone buzzedduring evening drills, and I nearly ate shit on the ice so I could check it.
Eva had sent a photo of her lunch, hours late—a half-eaten container of one of the meals I had delivered to her house twice a week. She wouldn’t answer any of my texts, never laugh-reacted to a meme or video, but like clockwork, she checked in with her food.
Mine.
Obsession with Eva had settled into my bones, and I wasn’t mad about it.
Cole had complained when I set up meal deliveries to her house with his black card, but then I’d caught him logging into the app before dawn one morning, adding those stupid gummy bears she liked to the scheduled deliveries.
The three scouts arrived late, each of them in expensive coats, settling into the stands with tablets to take notes. The team’s mood changed, turning restless and excited.
“You don’t have to feed me,” Eva said when I skated up to the bench during warmups, her voice carefully neutral.
“Sure I don’t,” I said, keeping my voice light, so happy she was talking to me, I was willing to rehash this argument a thousand times.
“I’d like you to stop having meals and groceries delivered to my house.”
Cole skidded to a halt beside me. “Nope,” he said flatly then stole my puck and took off.
I chased him, my chest tight, listening for Eva’s response. When she growled instead of ignoring us, I knew we were making progress.
The puck came to me. I took it, skating hard, setting up for the pass to Haruto, and missed. The puck skittered wide, and Haruto had to scramble to recover it.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
