Delayed Penalty (25 page)

The moment we got back to his condo, the warmth of his chest was a reminder of how close we were again. His lips skimmed over my shoulder. I turned and pushed him, and we fell back against his couch.

"Fuck, Ami," he spoke against my lips, his hands moving from my hips to the hem of the jersey I was wearing, and he removed it. I liked that. This was new.

I smiled, giving him a wink.

Leaning forward, bare chested now, I peppered kisses over his scruffy jaw and straddled him again.

Next was his shirt. I removed it, feeling his muscles as I did. He hissed out a low breath, his eyes squeezed shut, and his grip tightened against my hips. He reached around to stroke the swell of my ass.

His fingers dug into my ass, urging me closer to him, reading my mind, knowing I needed something from him. His hands were groping me blindly, moving from one spot to the next.

"Don't stop," I gasped when I felt him slowing down.

"I'm not," he promised, his gaze traveling over my face before his mouth was back on mine and he moved his hips up to meet mine, grinding against me slowly.

Goal.

He groaned at the contact, his head falling against the back of the couch. His body answered mine again, his pelvis thrusting against me slowly at first but gradually picking up speed.

Our sounds filled his living room, my fingers clenching in his hair, my mouth open in a strangled whimper as I felt tension in my belly from his movements against my hips and then a sharp tingle, followed by relaxation. It literally felt like a weight had been lifted off me. I missed that sensation so very much. It was like taking the cap off a carbonated beverage.

A moment later, I felt Evan tense underneath me, his hands on my hips. He pushed against me once more. He buried his face in my hair, releasing a jagged moan against the skin of my neck. His body stilled, the only movement was our breathing.

"I feel like I'm fucking fourteen again and making out in the backseat of a car, only to lose my shit before anything cool happens," he finally spoke, his voice gritty and languid.

"That wasn't cool?" I giggled, burying my blushing face against his chest before pushing myself away to stare down at him. Taking in his droopy eyes and flushed cheeks, I gathered he at least enjoyed it.

"It was definitely cool. Just messy."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He gave me a nod to move, so I did and then he moved to stand, extending his hand to me. "Shower?"

My mouth gaped open at the invitation and he added, "Separately." He laughed when I stood, wobbling a little. "That was cool and all, but a guy like me can't guarantee I won't go for the hat trick."

When we got into the bathroom, he handed me a towel, hummed quietly, and moved his face to nuzzle against my cheek. "I'm hungry…you?"

"Yeah, I could eat." I chuckled, leaning against the glass door of the shower, my feet cold from the stone floor.

"I'll make something." He kissed my cheek, noticing that it burned slightly. "Take your time. You've got quite the scruff burn. Sorry. Got a little carried away."

"It's okay. I liked it."

"Me too." He winked, reaching inside the glass doors of the shower to turn the water on. The spray sputtered for a moment and then found a continuous line. "Like I said, take your time."

He turned on his heel, a grin plastered on his face. I watched him walk away, his jeans hung low and the top of his black boxer briefs just barely seen at the top. Just before he got to the door, he shook his ass a little, knowing I was watching, and then closed the bathroom door behind him.

Damn hockey player. He was so smooth.

I did take my time, as I always did in Evan's shower. Shitty thing was it gave me time to think about what just happened.

But I didn't regret it, and I didn't feel weird about it. I felt right about it. When I left the hospital, they had this counselor come in and talk to me about being physically intimate again. They made it sound like it would be hard to let someone get close like that. When I imagined what happened to me, I imagined it being horrible, and I couldn't even begin to comprehend what women who remembered went through. When I listened to that counselor talk about how I would feel, and that it was okay to feel that way, I had some concerns that maybe I wouldn't be able to be intimate again. What if I couldn't do it? What if this guy had ruined me for someone like Evan? My mind immediately went to us. I imagined what it would be like. I imagined the things he would say to me and the gentle way he would regard my body.

And when he did everything I imagined, that was what made it okay. That was why I could do it. It wasn't because I didn't have a memory of the incident. It was because it was Evan. It was because Evan gave me back that power and control. He let me choose. Since that first kiss to now, he may have instigated the intimacy on more than one occasion, but he always waited for me to make the move. Instead of taking, he was giving.

Sometimes I felt like maybe I wasn't right for someone like Evan, but then again, was anyone really right for anyone? And I guess I only say that because I look at Evan and I think to myself, "Wow, how'd I get so lucky to have a guy like him come my way?"

Any time you're attracted to someone, you're drawn to them in some way, whether it be sexually or their personality, and then together you try to make it work. Sometimes it comes naturally, other times you have to work a little harder to be together.

Despite that, there are times when you are drawn to someone and you have no idea why it is that you have that attachment to them. You're brought together by some strange twist of fate and forced together. No matter how hard you try to ignore it, the feelings, those overwhelming anxious butterflies and their flappy wings, force you to find out more, believe more and want more.

That was me, the girl who wanted to know the man that saved me. I believed that fate brought us together, and I wanted it to be true. Me and those flappy winged butterflies were all about Evan Masen.

There was something that drew me in from the very beginning, a memory I had from when I was in the coma. It might be crazy to say, but it was his voice. I loved listening to his voice, just the sound calmed me, and I remembered it.

After showering, we lay there wrapped around each other in content silence, looking at one another, and I finally acknowledged that I wanted Evan no matter what. I wanted him more than a friend. It was as natural as breathing, as natural as dancing was for me, as natural as hockey came to him.

Evan told me he wasn't going anywhere, and I believed him. I believed him now. It was the natural thing to do, and that was why I was okay with this: moving on and being with him.

Clipping – Hitting an opponent below the knees. This will result in a penalty.

Game 82 – Detroit Red Wings

Sunday, April 11, 2010

(Home Game)

I woke up to the blare of my alarm on Sunday morning and didn't want to leave. Ami was in my bed with me, her head on my chest, bare legs draped over my midsection. Fuck if I didn't want to be buried between them.

I had to get up, or I was about to do just that.

There wasn't a lot of time, I had to be at the rink by six for our morning skate, so I had just enough time for a protein shake. I left Ami curled up in my bed, locked the door behind me, and left her note telling her I would be back around two and we could leave for the game then.

When I got to the rink, news had come in that Dave had been traded and our starting line defense was rattled. Dave Keller was traded to the San Jose Sharks.

Shit like that happened all the time in the NHL, and it was why you always had to be on your game. It wasn't like Dave did anything wrong either, nothing that we knew of anyway.

It was part of the unknown of being a professional athlete because you never knew when you would be in a different state, playing for an entirely different team. It was hard to make friends, build a home, and have a family. Maybe that was why they paid you so much?

Honestly, it shocked the hell out of all of us, but we got Jay Lucas from their team. Fuck if that guy couldn't destroy you on a simple body check. I definitely didn't want to tangle with him, even in practice. I made sure we were always on the same scrimmage team. No way was I meeting him against the boards.

"It smells like sex in here," Leo said, skating past me and then circling around, taunting me.

"Shut up."

"You know, you're not the first Blackhawk to get it on at the United Center." Leo looked around searching for Remy. When he found him taking shots at Cage before drills began, he laughed. "Remy fucked some chick against the boards earlier in the year." He shook his head. "Remember our four game streak in November on home ice?"

"Yeah…" I said, not understanding where he was going with that.

"Remy says it's because he gave the rink some good luck juice." Leo gave a nod at Remy, who was making his way over to us. Cage nailed him in the back of the head with a puck again.

I groaned, skating away from Leo. "You're such a nasty fucker."

Leo still hadn't had enough of taunting me and skated by, telling me not to fall on the ice and something obscene about fucking a girl in the locker room two weeks ago. "Stop it," I warned him. "If you don't stop I'm gonna nail your ass to the boards."

He laughed, flipping me off. He thought I was kidding.

I wasn't.

All through practice I was thinking about Ami and then the game and then back to Ami and how fucking good everything felt between us last night. I wasn't focused at all.

When I got back to my condo, Ami was sitting on the couch eating cereal, and I wanted a distraction before we played our biggest rival, the Detroit Red Wings. I wanted to feel what I felt last night.

Moments later, my pants were gone and hers were being removed.

I wanted to feel her beneath me on the bed, and she seemed cool with that, too, and let me carry her in there. My hands found the edges of her panties, getting ready to remove them. Her back arched and my heart pounded. She wanted it.

"Is this okay?" I asked, wanting to be sure, my voice low and gritty as my hands traveled the length of her body before settling between her legs, which were completely bare for the first time.

Ami nodded, the motion slow and calculated. Part of me wanted her to say no. I couldn't understand how she wanted this. Look at what she had been through. Wouldn't being physical with a guy be hard for a girl in her situation?

It wasn't for Ami and that was just another part that I struggled with.

"Are you sure?" My breath and words shook hoping that she understood.

"Yes."

"There's no going back. You know that, right?" I didn't have the intention of having sex with her right then. But…it was heading that way, and this time, by the look in her eyes, I didn't want to stop. Not this time.

Ami swallowed and spoke the only truth I knew, "There never was."

My breath was heavy on her cheek, my chest rising and falling quickly just like hers. We knew what this would change.

When I turned my head back to hers, her eyes were dark and passionate, causing the breath to catch in my throat in anticipation. We were actually about to do this. I didn't wait and leaned forward, hungrily possessing her mouth with mine.

My hands moved to her face and then around her neck until my fingers wrapped in her hair, combing through the strands and possessively wrapping around her. I could feel the raised bumps from where her scar was on her scalp, but this time it didn't send that sharp pain to my gut. This time I was too caught up in what was about to happen.

I was about to take something from this girl, and she was giving it to me, willingly. She wanted me to be that guy for her. It wasn't hard to see that I had reservations with being physical with Ami for a while. Now wasn't any different, but I saw her, felt her, and heard her. She wanted this. She needed it, if that made sense. For a long time, I couldn't make myself make a goddamn move. Now, I guess I needed to. I needed it for reasons I didn't even know or understand. I needed to make a move because this wasn't just about me. It was just as much about this girl and us together. Give and take, right?