Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
As soon as the plea leaves her lips, I'm inside her, thrusting deep.
She throws her head back, coming all over me.
I fuck her through it, snarling at how damn tight she is. At how beautiful she looks. At how fucking perfect she is.
"Emilia," I breathe, tipping her chin up until her eyes lock with mine. "I love you, princess."
A wave of intense emotion rolls through her eyes, stealing my breath. "Nash," she whispers, reaching for me.
I fall forward, catching myself on my elbows…and get lost in her.
My hands never leave her body. My lips never leave her skin. And when she falls this time, she takes me with her, groaning her name as her cries of pleasure ring out around us.
It's perfection. Best night of my life.
Until she's curled up against my afterward and someone pounds on the door.
"Whatley! Open the damn door," Lariat growls from the other side.
"Fuck," I groan, glaring up at the ceiling.
"I know my daughter is in there with you."
"Of course he catches us now," Emilia mutters. "All the times we fucked all over the arena with people everywhere, and nothing. But as soon as I sneak into your hotel room in a different state, suddenly we're busted."
"Are you complaining that he didn't catch us sooner?"
"No." She rolls from the bed, grabbing her clothes. "I'm just saying…his timing sucks sweaty hockey balls."
I chuckle, grabbing my pants to yank them up my legs. "Why don't you get dressed in the bathroom? I'll keep him occupied."
"Uh, no way. We're doing this together."
"Whatley!" Coach pounds on the door again. "Don't make me take it off the hinges, son."
"Hold your freaking horses!" Emilia yells back at him, quickly shimmying into her pants and then throwing her shirt on over her head. She spots her panties and bra on the floor by the window and kicks them under a chair, shrugging. "How do I look?"
"Freshly fucked."
"RIP to your career," she sighs, patting down her hair as if that's going to do anything to fix the mess I made of it.
"You let me worry about my career from now on," I murmur, pulling her into my arms to kiss the anxiety from her eyes. "All you need to worry about is you."
"I love you." She melts against me.
"I love you too." I brush my lips across her forehead and then stride across the room to let her dad in.
He charges in, red faced and puffing, his eyes narrowed on his daughter. Of-fucking-course he clocks the state of the bed, his face turning apoplectic as he turns to look at me.
Emilia quickly jumps in front of him. "You can't kill him," she says. "I'm going to marry him."
"You asked her to marry you without discussing it with me first?" Coach growls, looking at me like he wants to murder me.
"No," Emilia interjects before I have a chance to say anything. "He hasn't asked me. I'm asking him."
"Oh, hell no," Coach and I growl at the same time.
Her face falls, disappointment rolling through her eyes. Shit. Does she think I don't want to marry her?
Fuck that. I've had the ring in my pocket for weeks already.
I cup her cheek, tipping her chin up and forcing her to look at me. "We will be getting married," I murmur. "But I'll be the one asking you, not the other way around." I glance from her to her dad. "And I won't be asking for your permission because it's Emilia's choice to make, sir. But I am asking for your blessing."
I'm not entirely convinced he'll give it to me. Actually, I'm half certain he's going to tell me to go fuck myself and keep my hands off his daughter…but I ask anyway. For her sake and for his, because, despite everything, he adores his daughter. And he's always been her hero.
He glances from me to her and then sighs heavily. "You were wrong about something, kid."
"What?"
"What you want should be the only goddamn thing on the board," he says. "It's the only part of the equation that matters." He jerks his chin in my direction. "As much as I hate to admit it, you found one who gets that. It'll never be about me or my name to him. It'll always be about you and yours."
"Dad," she whispers.
"You have my blessing, Whatley." He glances over at me, emotion in his eyes. "But if you ever hurt her, hell will not compare to the level of agony I'll put you through. You put her first, even if it means you walk away." He glowers. "And you keep her damn name out of the press."
Emilia squirms from foot to foot like a little girl who just got busted breaking the rules. "Um, about that…" She peeks up at him, grinning. "Too late?"
He shoots her a glare cold enough to freeze hell. "Oh, believe me, kid. I'm aware. My phone hasn't stopped ringing all fucking day."