After a quiet ride across town, the car drops Becca off first, and then I’m alone with my thoughts, my eyes drifting to my phone every few minutes. Although we’d texted over the past several days, Justin and I haven’t been alone together since he’d delivered tampons to my front door. Maybe he thinks I’m still on my period. I decide to text him first, and pull out my phone, just as a message from him pops up.

Can I come over?

I grin as I type out my reply.

Of course.

Ten minutes later, I’m opening my front door to a somber looking Justin. He’s dressed in dark jeans, boots with red laces, and a gray pullover that’s been thrown on over a white t-shirt. It’s obviously the same thing he’s been wearing all night, only now I can gaze at him appreciatively.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m just getting tired of lying to your brother.”

My stomach tightens. That makes two of us. I know we need to talk about where things are headed between us, but everything inside me is screaming not to. At least not right now. Not in this moment. I just want to enjoy tonight, and live in this tiny bubble for a little while longer before it all comes crashing down around us. I have a feeling if I open my mouth, all of my truth is going to come pouring out, and I’m not ready to go there yet. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready.

“Come here,” he says softly, drawing me to his chest. His strong arms close around me.

I step closer and lay my head against his chest. His heartbeat thumps out a steady rhythm and my own speeds up in agreement. I don’t ask him to tell me what he said to Owen and the other guys to get out of there tonight, though I can tell it’s weighing on him.

Two fingers under my chin lift my face toward his and then his lips touch mine. They’re firm, yet soft and I melt into his touch. His scent surrounds me and I’m overcome with so much emotion, my heart squeezes almost painfully. With a soft groan, he parts my lips with his tongue, our kiss deepening immediately with hungry urgency.

I push my fingers into the hair at the back of this neck and tug him even closer. Close enough that I can feel the pulse of his steely erection between us. That does something to me, and before I can even contemplate my next action, I’m climbing him like a damn tree.

“Yes. Come here. Fuck,” Justin groans, lifting me so I can wrap my legs around his waist, bringing us even closer together.

I can feel his excitement trapped between us, and my panties grow damp with eagerness.

With focused efficiency, Justin stalks toward my bedroom, not letting go of me for even a second. Then I’m being placed down in the center of my bed and he hovers over me, his mouth still on mine.

“Get naked,” he says, voice rough.

I’m not sure what’s changed, or what happened tonight, but this is the first time he’s been so demanding, or dared to issue a direct order. Normally he’s so sweet, checking in and asking if I’m ready. Tonight there’s a desperate gleam in his eyes and I can’t help but comply. I’m out of my jeans and sweater in about four seconds and Justin does the same, stepping out of his boots to quickly rid himself of his jeans, boxers, and shirt.

I unsnap my bra as Justin draws my panties down my thighs.

“Shit,” he curses. “I need to be inside you.”“Yes,” I murmur, body clenching wildly at the needy sound of his deep voice.

Not even ten seconds later, Justin is touching carefully between my legs, making sure I’m ready for him. A whimper tumbles from my lips, and then he positions himself at my opening—filling me—his thick cock pushing into me in gentle thrusts, as his fingers tangle in my hair and his lips brush the shell of my ear.

“So tight. So good,” he groans.

“Yes. More.” I’m practically incoherent, unable to speak in complete sentences, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to mind.

He thrusts home, and I whimper, clinging to his muscles as he moves.

“Sweet fuck, Elise.” His voice is little more than a rough growl. Chill bumps break out over the back of my neck, skating down my spine.

The pace he sets is brutal and punishing and I love every sinful second of it.

“Yes. Oh my God.” I moan and bite his neck lightly. I feel his answering smile against my chin.

“Naughty girl.” He groans against my neck, one hand pressing into my hip as he continues thrusting above me.

Soon, the time for talking is done because we’re both chasing our own release in hearty pants and breathy moans.

He feels so perfect. So good. So right.

“You getting close?” he asks, voice tight.

“Yes!” I cry out, unable to contain my excitement.

With a barely concealed chuckle, he brings one hand between us and touches me in soft circles. It’s crazy how well he knows my body—knows exactly the things to do to extract pleasure from me. And moments later, I go off like a rocket, my body spasming wildly as I climax. Without a condom, I know he can feel every pulse and flutter, and Justin isn’t far behind, squeezing my backside with one hand as he buries himself deep and comes inside me with a low groan.

“Fuck. You’re perfect,” he says, breathless as the waves of pleasure finally begin to abate.

He presses a kiss to my lips, my cheek, my chin, my temple, and I smile. Then he slowly withdraws, carefully breaking our connection. I hate the loss of his body heat, but moments later he’s back and I feel a warm, wet cloth wiping gently between my legs. I squeeze my eyes closed and fling one hand over my face while I chuckle at him.

“I can do that myself, you know?”

He shushes me with a quiet noise. “I know you can. But I’m the one who made you all messy, so let me clean you up. It’s the least I can do.”

I grin, unable to hide all of my feelings for this man.

I hear the toilet flush and then the water running, and then he’s back in the bed with me, spooning his big body around mine. The room is almost completely dark, with just a little moonlight and some ambient light from the hallway filtering in, but it’s enough. I can see bits and pieces of him as he moves under the blankets with me, arranging us both so we’re comfortable. My heart is so full and happy that he’s staying the night. I can’t even put into words what it means to me.

We lay together, his arms around me for a long time before either of us speaks.

“I’m sorry you lost tonight,” I say, finally. “You looked good on the ice if it matters.”

He smiles down at me, his eyes soft. “It’s alright. And coach said the same thing in the locker room.”

I could get lost in his deep blue stare. And there are so many other things I want to say. The words I love you are right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. That’s not part of the deal, and I certainly can’t tell him that, no matter how badly I might want to.

“Come on. Let’s get some sleep.”

I nod. “Right. Sorry, I’m sure you’re exhausted after the game.”

He tugs me closer, his eyes sinking closed already.

I love the feeling of being held by him. I close my eyes and try to pretend nothing has to change.

It almost works.

26

* * *

Bruised and Battered

Justin

“Come inside. He should be home any minute,” I say to Elise when she shows up at our front door looking for Owen.

She grins at me and then lifts up on her toes to steal a quick kiss. I kiss her back, but then chuckle, shaking my head.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Elise’s lips twitch with a smile and she follows me inside. “Are you sure you can’t come to dinner with us?”

I shake my head. “You guys have fun. I don’t want to interrupt brother-sister bonding time.”

She rolls her eyes and then wanders into the living room and sinks into the oversized couch. I lower myself carefully to the cushion beside her.

Elise frowns. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug. “Just some bruised ribs. I got stretched out and taped up after today’s practice, but I’m still a little sore.”

She makes a concerned sound, shaking her head. “Let me see.”

I lift up one side of my t-shirt and Elise inhales sharply. The left side of my body is purple and blue.

“Oh, Justin. That looks so painful. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I lower my shirt and release a slow breath. “I’ll be fine.” The truth is, I’ve had much worse injuries over the eight years I’ve been playing in the pros.

“Can I do anything? Ibuprofen? A massage? Anything?”

Considering her offer, I meet her eyes. I’m trying to decide how much trouble I’d been in if Owen came home and found her hands on me, and then I weigh if I actually care at this point. The desire to have her touch me wins out. Plus, I could really use some of these knots worked out.

“I’d love a massage.” Tugging my t-shirt off over my head, I move to the floor so I’m sitting in between her parted knees.

Elise’s warm palms press into my shoulders and I release a slow breath. She kneads the over-used muscles in my back, pressing one hand flat against my spine.

“Ah…” I groan. “That feels good.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’m happy to do this anytime you want.” I can hear the smile in her voice when she answers.

She continues rubbing my deltoids, moving lower to massage my arm muscles. It feels so nice.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” she says as she works.