He chuckled, the sound hoarse. “Yeah, angel. I’m okay. More than okay. Are you?”
I smiled as he set me back down, cupping my cheeks. “I’m…” I wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened. How we’d gone from a flirty game of truth or dare to one of the hottest experiences of my life, but I wasn’t mad about it.
“Bryn?” His eyes searched mine, concern at the forefront.
I smiled, partly to reassure him. But partly because it felt good. “I’m great.”
He kissed me again, a quick peck. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
“Yeah.” I smirked, giving the shower a pointed look. “I’ve heard that one before.”
He gave my ass a playful smack. I stuck my tongue out at him. He narrowed his eyes and reached for me. I tried to dodge him, but he was too fast. He pulled me into his arms, holding me to him. And as our eyes met, something passed between us, and I found myself hoping he would never let go.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Iopened my eyes as Bryn was climbing out of the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?” I teased.
She smiled down at me, brushing my hair away from my face before giving me a quick peck. “Bathroom. I’ll be back.”
I released her before rolling onto my back and tucking my arms beneath my head. My dick was already growing hard at the sight of her. Her hair was mussed. My shirt draped over her body, stopping mid-thigh. It was my every fantasy come to life. I was one lucky bastard.
Last night had started with the game of truth or dare, and it had turned into a marathon of pleasure, each of us trying to outdo the other. We’d woken several times in the night, coming together, our bodies in sync. It had been intense—physically, emotionally. We’d probably be tired later, but I was too happy to care.
There was so much trust between us. And we’d been playful, having fun. In hockey, that kind of chemistry and combo made for an unbeatable team. And I could only hope Bryn would realize how good we could be together—not just in bed, but in life.
When Bryn returned from the bathroom, I asked, “How are you feeling?”
She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. It had the effect of lifting her—my—shirt even higher. Normally, I would’ve looked away. This time, I didn’t.
She smiled. “I’m good. A little sore, but otherwise, I feel great. You?”
I cringed, only then realizing that maybe I should’ve eased into things more. But she’d never complained. If anything, she’d been the one asking for more. Harder.
God, nowI’mharder.
“I’m amazing,” I said, hit with a sudden pang of guilt, feeling it as if I’d been struck by lightning…
This is Derek. I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m busy being amazing. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you when I’m done.
Derek. Fuck.
“Hey.”Bryn frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I shook my head as if to clear the thought and the pang of guilt that had accompanied it. “Yeah. I could use some food. Do you want some breakfast?”
“Yes, please.”
I grabbed the hotel’s in-room tablet from the nightstand so we could order room service. She grabbed her phone, gushing over the latest pictures our dog sitter had sent of Bacon and Biscuit. It was the first time I’d worked with the Hartwell Agency, a high-end placement agency for nannies, chefs, yacht staff, you name it. And so far, I’d been very pleased with their service.
Bryn sank down on the bed beside me as I paused on one of the workouts on the hotel tablet. It wasn’t the workout that had made me stop the scroll; it was the woman leading it.
“You know this is Coach’s daughter, right?” I asked, pointing at the screen where an image of Emerson Thorne—Olympic Gold medalist—appeared.
“Wait.” Bryn paused. “Is she a twin? Because I swear I’ve met her before at the Atlas Center, but her name was Astrid.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “They’re twins. Astrid is a doctor, and Emerson is?—”
“Married to Nate Crawford, famous actor and producer.”
