Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Walking to it, I open it up, expecting him to spit some nonsense at me, but what I see stops me from saying anything.
His jacket is off, the tie gone, two buttons at the collar open, showing his smooth chest. He’s leaning against the doorframe.
“What?” I ask, trying not to take him in fully.
“Tonight was one of the best nights of my life.” He starts talking while I’m still standing here holding the door handle in one hand. “After the fuck up, that is. I beat myself up. Cursed myself. I smashed my stick so hard I’m surprised it didn't break.”
I look into his eyes, a light from his room making me see that his eyes are lighter than before.
“Then I had that breakaway and saw the puck hit the back of the net. I can’t explain exactly what was going through my mind. It was such a big moment. It felt like maybe I deserved this second chance.”
“Matthew,” I whisper, going in closer to him, “you deserve this and so much more.” The hand not holding the handle reaches out to touch his chest. It is a normal action, but to him it is something more. He looks down at my hand on him, making me do the same.
“I celebrated with my team, but in my head I was thinking of two people. One, I was thinking about my family, hoping like fuck I was making them proud.” His hand goes on top of mine on his chest, his huge hand covering mine. His fingers lace with mine. “The second was you.”
My breath intakes and I stop breathing, or at least that’s what it feels like. My heart is beating, beating so loud I’m sure he can hear it. Hell, I’m sure that everyone can hear it through the walls.
“Skating back to the bench, I looked up and saw you cheering, cheering not just for the team, but deep down hoping that it was cheering for me.” He comes closer to me, my chin dipping closer to my chest.
Our chests almost touch, but with my heels off I’m almost in the middle of his chest. Our hands now both at our sides, one of mine still on the doorknob. “Tell me, baby, tell me you were cheering for me.”
My throat is dry, so dry it’s like I’m in a desert walking all day long, running. Till his finger goes under my chin, lifting my face so I can look at him. “Tell me, did I make you proud?” His voice is almost silent.
I don’t say anything. I just nod. My feet go up on my tippy toes so I can touch his face, my hand going to his cheek. The stubble pinches my hand. “I was cheering for you.” My thumb rubs up his cheek and then slowly over his lips, my body moving without thinking. My body moving on need. My need to touch him, my need to tell him, “I was so proud of you.” It’s the last thing I say to him before he bends down and takes my lips against his.
Softly at first, so soft I don’t know if I’m dreaming this or it’s really happening, till his hands go to the back of my neck, into my hair, pulling my head back, his eyes meeting mine, then he kisses me and this time there’s no wondering if he is or isn’t. Because he’s consuming me, his mouth over mine, his tongue licking my lips, making my tongue come out and meet his.
The second his tongue touches mine his hand fists my hair tighter, the groan coming out from me, vibrating from, Or in, my body. One hand goes around my waist, picking me up while my hands wrap around his neck, our lips never separating. Our tongues play a game of tug of war. Our heads move from side to side to get deeper into each other. Our chests heave, almost like we just crossed the finish line at a marathon.
“Fuck.” I hear him hiss out when we finally let each other go.
I go back in to kiss his lips softly, just wanting one more touch. One more kiss.
“We,” I say, sliding down his body, “um, let’s just say it was a lack of judgment.” I walk back into my room, ready to close the door, but he’s now in my room. “I’m really tired.”
“Lack of judgment?” He shakes his head. “That kiss just knocked me on my ass.” He runs his hands through his hair, making him even sexier, making me even more irritated that he can look so good.
“Matthew,” I say right before his hand cups my hip, squeezing.
“Go change for bed before I pick you up, throw you on that bed, and show you exactly what a lack of judgment will get you. I’ll be buried so deep in you, you’ll wonder how we’ll ever be apart again.”