On the Fly (36 page)

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Authors: Catherine Gayle

Tags: #hockey, #contemporary romance, #sports romance, #hockey romance

BOOK: On the Fly
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I’d been fighting it for
weeks, but I finally realized I was fighting a losing battle. Some
things are worth fighting for, but to stop yourself from loving
someone? To try to avoid loving a man who loved me and my kids, who
wanted to be the sort of man they’d never had in their lives? For
that matter, he wanted to be the sort of man
I’d
never had in my life. I’d finally
stopped trying to push him away, but I hadn’t really given myself
over to it—to him—and it was exhausting.


You’re not wrong,” I said.
I pulled myself away from him, tilting my head back so I could look
in depths of his eyes. “I love you. It scares me because I’ve never
loved anyone like this, but I don’t want to be scared anymore.
Loving you feels right when so many things in my life have felt
wrong.”


You realize I’m only going
to get cockier now, right?” He laughed and kissed the tip of my
nose. “Because the most amazing girl I’ve ever known loves
me.”


I knew you had to have a
flaw.”


One or two. I try to keep
them under wraps.”


That’s good. Wouldn’t want
to knock yourself off the pedestal I’ve got you on.”


Definitely not. That’s a
long fall. It’d hurt.”

I put my arm around his neck and
rested my cheek on his shoulder. His scent filled my nostrils,
tickling my lungs. He let one hand slide down my rib cage, over my
hip and lower, until it rested on top of my thigh.


Brenden?”


Yeah?”


Are those condoms Eric
gave you in the bag you left here?” The other night, he’d brought a
duffel bag with a few things from his place—clean underwear, a
toothbrush—and left it in my bedroom. I kissed the side of his
neck. The frantic pumping of his pulse beneath my lips matched my
own.

His voice was gruff when he said,
“Yes.”


That’s good.” I got off
his lap and took the baggie of ice to the kitchen. His eyes
followed my every move. I let my gaze meet his. “Are you ready to
come to bed?”

Considering he was still on crutches,
he got up and made it to my bedroom faster than he should have been
able to. By the time I joined him, he’d placed the crutches against
the wall and was sitting on the edge of the bed, fumbling to remove
his walking boot.

I closed the door, my heart racing so
fast I didn’t know how it was still in my chest.

He kicked his shoe off and released
the last latches on his boot, letting it drop to the floor. “You’re
sure?” he asked. “You’re not going to think you’ve made a stupid
decision and regret it later?”


I’m sure.” As though to
prove my point, I pulled the hem of my shirt free from my jeans and
undid the buttons. His eyes burned a hole through me, watching the
path of my fingers. When I had all the buttons free, I let the
silky material slide down my arms to pool at my feet.


More freckles,” he said on
a groan that filled me with heat. He held out a hand to me. As soon
as I took it, he tugged me closer, drawing me between his thighs.
“God, they’re everywhere. Are they
everywhere
?” I laughed, and he said,
“Don’t answer that. Let me find them.”

He kissed my collarbone, his tongue
searing me and stealing my breath. I held onto his shoulders for
support as he methodically kissed every freckle he could find. He
used those big hands to tease me, trailing them over my bared skin
but never venturing too close to those places still covered in my
clothing.

I let my head fall back and tried to
remember how to breathe. No one had ever touched me like this
before—as if it was just as important to make me feel good as it
was for him to come. Jason had been all about his own needs, and
there’d been no one but my trusty vibrator since then. That
couldn’t hold a candle to the ways Brenden was touching me now. My
whole body felt alive, tingling and trembling and
wonderful.

The heat of his mouth came down over
my bra cup, and I was powerless to stop my back from arching into
him. I reached behind me and unhooked the clasps, letting the
straps drop from my arms.

Brenden backed his head away for a
moment, watching as my breasts bounced free. “More freckles. You’re
so fucking beautiful.” He rested his palms on my rib cage just
below my breasts as he’d done several times beneath my pj’s over
the last few nights, using his thumbs to lightly brush against
their undersides. This time, he kissed every freckle he’d just
revealed, twirling his tongue and moving closer and closer to my
nipple, so close that I was nearly frantic with needing his
attention right there.

When he finally did reach it, gently
suckling and flicking it with his tongue, I let out such a loud
moan I had to put my hand over my mouth. I didn’t want to wake the
kids.

He moved his attention to the other
breast, and it was too much. I fisted my hands in his T-shirt and
tugged it up. He raised his arms over his head and helped me remove
it. I tossed it to the floor. With both his hands on my waist, he
lifted me onto the bed and put me on my back, then rolled himself
over so he was on top of me.

His weight pressed me into the
mattress, and now his hips were between my thighs, and his lips and
tongue and hands were everywhere all at once.

We kissed and explored each other’s
bodies. I let my fingers travel over his shoulders and chest and
back, reveling in the corded strength of his muscle. His hands
flitted down my abdomen. He fumbled with the fastening of my pants,
finally breaking off the kiss so he could rise up on his knees and
look at what he was doing. He was as hurried as I was, desperate
for more—too rushed.


Let me,” I said. He nodded
and went to work on his jeans, ripping them and his boxers off in
the time it took me to get my pants down to my ankles. I still had
my shoes on, so my pants got twisted up with them and it took three
times as long as it should have with both of us pulling at
them.

I laughed. “God, we’re a mess.” For
the first time, I really got to look at him—all of him. He was as
big and strong as I knew, but his body was like the canvas of his
career, filled with scars from surgeries and God only knew what
else, and a few tattoos scattered here and there. It was the scars
my eye was drawn to, though. You could see his pain everywhere you
looked, but also his determination and willingness to fight for
what he wanted.

His eyes were studying me just as
intensely as I was studying him. I felt like he was counting
freckles with the focused way his gaze roved over every inch of my
body.

With one hand, I reached up to trace
the long, pinkish line on his left hip. He put his hand over mine
to stop me. “I’m a mess,” he said. “You’re not. You’re
perfect.”

He couldn’t be more wrong about
that.


No,” I said. I pulled my
hand free from his and used it to touch another scar, the one on
his shoulder. “You’re perfect, too, because most people bear their
scars on the inside where no one can see them—people like Maddie
and Dana and me—but yours are out there where someone only has to
look to know.”


Which makes me a
mess.”


Which makes you perfect
for me,” I corrected him. I kissed him where my hand had just been,
using my tongue to taste him.

He closed his eyes, his breaths coming
fast and ragged. I pushed on his shoulders so he’d lie down on his
back, and I rose up over him on my knees, giving him the same
careful, tormenting treatment he’d given me everywhere I could find
evidence of his injuries. His muscles jerked to life beneath my
ministrations, fluttering with every touch.

I slipped my tongue into his belly
button, letting it swirl around as he clenched his fists at his
sides. I pointed it and moved it lower, following the thin trail of
dark hair down below his waist. With one hand, I slid my fingertips
along the underside of his erection, moving up toward the
tip.

He sucked in a sharp breath when I
followed the same path in the opposite direction. “Rachel, you’re
going to kill me.”


Let’s hope
not.”

He sat up and kissed me, moving his
hand down between my legs. He let out a groan when he touched my
sex through my panties and both of us could feel how wet I was.
With two fingers, he moved the fabric aside and slid them between
my lips. I moved my hips in time with him, my impatience getting
the best of me.

His thumb found my clitoris and rubbed
gentle circles until I was hovering just on the edge of a climax.
He kept kissing me, his tongue wreaking perfect torment on my mind
as his fingers did the same with my sex. It finally washed over me,
gentle waves pulsing through my entire body.

I collapsed against him, putting both
hands on his shoulder to keep myself upright and resting my head on
them until I could catch my breath again. He reached for his bag on
the nightstand, and a moment later he came out with a
condom.

Brenden opened the wrapper and set it
on the nightstand. He unrolled the condom over his erection. Then
his hands were at my waist, his fingers dipping beneath the band of
my panties. “Can I take these off?”

I nodded, and he tugged them down my
thighs as gently and reverently as he’d ever done anything. When
they were at my knees, I lay down on my back so he could tug them
the rest of the way.


Red hair everywhere,” he
murmured, his fingers teasing my curls. “Freckles everywhere.
You’re like a dream.”

I assumed he would move on top of me
again now, but he held out his hand for mine and helped me to my
knees. He slid back until the headboard and pillows were supporting
him and bent his legs slightly.


Come here,” he
said.

I didn’t fully understand until he put
both his hands at my waist and lifted me over him, then lowered me
so I was straddling his hips. “Like this?” I asked.


Like this.”

With his hand between us, he guided
himself into my opening. I dropped down slowly until he was fully
inside me. When I rocked my hips, he kissed me. He caressed my
breasts with his hands, and then I understood why he would want to
make love to me in such an odd position.

We could both kiss and touch and
explore, and we did, rocking together until I climaxed again—harder
this time—and he put me on my back. He kept kissing me while he
thrust into me, sweet even in his increased urgency, until he came
with a shout that he muffled against the pillows.

He stopped holding his weight off me
after he came, and I wrapped my arms around him to hold him close.
After a few minutes, he rolled over and pulled me with him. I lay
my head on his shoulder, letting my hand trace patterns on his
chest while we waited for our breathing and pulses to
slow.

Eventually we got out of bed to clean
up, but when we returned he put both arms around me and held me
tight. I fell asleep feeling more loved than I ever had in my
life.

 

 

 

When Thursday morning
rolled around and we had to return to the real
world instead living in of this idyllic fantasy one we’d spent
three days in, Brenden, Jamie, and I all went in together. Jamie
was eager to get back on the ice after several days off, and
Brenden had an appointment with Dr. Mitchell to talk more about his
ankle.

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