“And if you’re on the road when you become a professional hockey player?” She smiles for the first time since we got here as she pokes me in the ribs.
“Obviously, I’ll have someone recording every concert so I can even see the ones I’m not physically present for.”
She laughs, and it warms my heart.
I love this girl more than I thought humanly possible. I’ve loved her since the day we met, but I didn’t realize loving Tate would feel like this.
I’m the luckiest guy in the world; I’d be an absolute idiot to screw this up.
I lean forward, gently pressing my lips to hers. My hands snake around her waist to pull her closer to me. As I do, the tension in her shoulders fades, and her hands find their way into my hair, playing with the pieces resting on the nape of my neck.
The kiss is soft and controlled, but as her hands fall from the back of my neck to the collar of my shirt, tugging gently, I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
Then she tugs again, and I get the message loud and clear.
I grab the back of my shirt collar and tug it over my head. Tate smiles as I do, her hands roaming my chest as if we’d never done this before.
She kicks her leg over my body, straddling my waist as my hands run up the sides of her thighs. Her head dips down, kissing me again, but this one’s different. Frantic and passionate.
She shakes her jacket off her shoulders, her lips never leaving mine. As her lips part, I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my tongue darting in to explore every inch of her mouth.
Her fingers glide up and down my bare skin, pulling my body closer to hers, if that’s even possible. As her tongue dances around her mouth with mine, a soft moan escapes from her lips.
Her mouth breaks away from mine, her chest quickly rising and falling, and before I know it, her arms are above her head, her eyes motioning to the bottom of her shirt.
My arms wrap around her back, find the hem of her shirt, and pull it up and over her head.
I run my fingers down her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps as I do. Her eyes remain steadily on mine as her finger grazes against my cheek.
“I love you.” She gives me a soft kiss. “So much.”
She rests her forehead against mine. Her eyes close, taking in this moment.
I stand up from my bed, her legs instinctively wrap around my waist as I swing us around, gently landing on top of her in the middle of my bed.
My mouth captures hers again, giving her a long, lingering kiss. Then my lips drift down to the crook in her neck, her fingers comb through my hair as I kiss down her neck to her collarbone and then back to her lips.
She rolls us over, flipping me onto my back so she’s on top of me, taking full control of the situation. She raises her head, breaking our kiss, and my fingers brush against the straps of her bra.
She reaches behind her back, unclasping it and letting it fall between us. I grin as I whip it to a random corner in my room.
Our hands eagerly search each other’s bodies as our mouths find comfort in each other. Piece by piece, our clothes end up around my room. Our bare bodies mold perfectly together, my hands digging deep into her hair, gently tugging every once in a while to hear the whimpers escape her lips.
The ones telling me she’s craving more.
They’ve become my favorite sound.
She grabs my bottom lip between her teeth, pulling slightly before her lips meet my chest, kissing her way from shoulderto shoulder. Then she reaches for my nightstand and pulls out a condom.
Her eyes focus on me, the condom resting between her fingers. I reach up and brush away the pieces of hair that cover her face.
My hand grazes hers as I reach for the condom, and I adjust my body to slip it on. Once I do, Tate watches me as we become one. Her hands rest on my shoulders as she finds a steady rhythm. I let her have full control of this moment, setting the pace between us.
I go to grab her face to pull her lips down to meet mine, but my bedroom door swings open, stopping me in my tracks.
“Hey, Fletch, is it o—”
Tate’s eyes widen as her movements stop. My fingers dig into her hips to try and keep her calm. Maybe if we don’t move, he won’t realize it’s Tate. I glance around Tate’s naked body, hoping a death glare will get Zeke to leave my room with no further questions or comments.
