“Wow,” I breathe when we break. “That was…”
I decide to let him fill in the gap.
“Out of this world?” he murmurs, his hand sleepily pushing my hair back from my face.
We manage to disconnect, but neither of us are in a hurry to go anywhere. I roll into his chest and his arms hold me tight to him. I’m exhausted and completely, utterly happy, and I decide I want to have sex like this all the time. It’s awesome.
With each of my previous partners—granted, there weren’t a lot, but the number is higher than one—sex has been this sort of vanilla thing we did to fill the time if we were moderately attracted to one another. It has never been about love, passion, or even lust.
I have no clue what just happened with Ryan, but it was not vanilla, and it was not boring. I want more.
“Fantastic,” I add. “That was fun.”
“Let’s do it again.” he says. “Once wasn’t enough.”
I curl in against his body. “Good thing we can do it as many times as we want.”
“Very good thing.”
His hand runs along my naked back, his touch gentle, the opposite of our furious motions of moments before. It’s the first time I’ve ever had the urge to cuddle, but since we’re friends with benefits, the situation is a little confusing. Is cuddling expected? Required? Frowned upon?
“So,” I say curiously. “What happens now?”
“Now?” He glances up at me, mischief in his eyes. “My, oh my, Andi, you’re insatiable.”
I feel my cheeks flame. “I just meant like…what do we do? Do we cuddle? Should I go home? This friends with benefits thing doesn’t come with a handbook, you know.”
He turns to the ceiling, his bark of laughter startling me. Shaking his head, he faces me. “You are truly one of a kind.”
“Fine, can I take a shower then?” I smile, pleased that our hookup hasn’t changed the easy atmosphere between us. If anything, things seem even easier now. We don’t have to pretend we aren’t looking forward to a repeat session.
He runs a hand leisurely along my leg, stares at my boobs, and then grins. “Towels are in the bathroom,” he says. “But first, come here.”
“Where?”
His answer is a kiss, a breathtaking kiss that has me thinking we are going for round two. But, just as his hands skim over my stomach and down to my hips, he stops, giving my butt a firm pat. “Shower’s that way.” I give him a look of frustration, and he merely raises his eyebrows. “Is there a problem?”
“You know what you’re doing to me,” I say, stomping off to the bathroom. “And I expect you deliver on your promise, buddy!”
I step into the bathroom and find a smile reflected back at me in the mirror—a smile and real, true sex hair. I’m actually proud of this wild ’do—I look like quite the maniac.
I snap a quick picture of my new hairstyle and text it to Lisa. I have to share this moment with someone, and she’ll appreciate it.
My phone beeps with a text two seconds later. It’s Lisa, and she’s sent me five eggplant emojis. I don’t quite understand it, but I understand it enough to send her a turd image back.
And then the thumbs up.
Finally, I climb into the shower, lather up with the expensive soaps lined up along the ledge, and wash my hair with delicious-smelling shampoo. By the time I climb out, I’m feeling like a new woman. This time when I look in the mirror, I see a makeup-less face that is smiling, happy, and refreshed. Sex works wonders for my skin.
Unless…maybe this is more than sex? Already, I find myself dreading Lawrence and Lilia’s wedding. As excited as I am to be invited, I don’t want the date to arrive, because once that date passes, Ryan and I will no longer have a reason to see each other. I don’t want to think about that.
Instead, I leave the steam-filled bathroom and head to the bedroom where, at least for now, my fantasy has become reality.
CHAPTER 29
Ryan
I’m ready to fall asleep. She’s been in that shower for so long I actually debate knocking on the door to make sure she is still alive, but when I put my ear to the door, I hear her humming.
Fucking adorable.
She’s humming in the shower, and it sounds happy, so I return to bed and now I’m lying here, waiting for her to return and sprawl out on the sheets next to me.
She exhausted me. I’ve been with plenty of women before—hockey players are rarely at a loss for options—but none of my options have been anything like Andi, nowhere near as satisfying, as intelligent, as goddamn sexy. Whatever she did with her mouth, those hips—I’m hooked. That’s not to mention the fact that I enjoy talking with her, too, before and after.
Suddenly I can understand why Lawrence left behind his dickhead ways when he met Lilia. If she makes him feel anywhere near as good as Andi makes me feel, well, shit—I’d give up my dickhead ways too.
Even though that’s not an option for so many reasons. We both want to enjoy this for as long as possible, but at the end of the day, our relationship is going to grind to a halt in one way or another, no pun intended.
If I get signed here, Jocelyn will have my balls in a vice-like grip, especially my first year with the Lightning. I won’t be able to get away with anything. If I don’t get signed, well, there goes any hope for continuing our little agreement. Two thousand miles sure puts a kink in the friends with benefits amendment, and not the good kind.
I’m running a hand over my forehead, debating when I should bring this up to Andi, when she waltzes into the room and I forget all logical thought—or illogical thought, for that matter. All thoughts fly out the window at the sight of her wearing my fluffy-ass towel.
I’m sure she’s naked under there. She left her clothes by the bed and stumbled to the bathroom in nothing but a pair of socks. Now the socks are gone, and so is her makeup, and damn if she isn’t even more beautiful with a plain face.
“Do you by chance have a t-shirt?” she asks, a hint of shyness creeping into her smile. “Unless I should leave now? I don’t really know the etiquette here. I’ve never been a friend with benefits before.”
I’m speechless. Leave now? When I find my words, I gargle something that doesn’t make any sense.
“What?” she asks. “Was that English?”
I might’ve thought I was completely spent—it’s been a long day between training early this morning, enough sexual tension to break a lesser man, and finally the most insane release—yet somehow, I’m ready for her again.
I stand, the sheets falling off of me as her eyes land on a gigantic sign that I’m ready to go again.
She holds a hand up to her mouth and stifles a burst of laughter. “I guess that means I’m not getting kicked out yet?”
Luckily the condoms are already out and ready. I slip one on, watching her eyes for any sign that she’s not looking for a repeat.
On the contrary—she lets her towel fall to the floor.
I was right. She’s naked under there.
“You are stunning,” I find myself saying. Normally, I’m not one for compliments and touchy-feely shit—girls get too attached when I start saying that stuff—but this isn’t a conscious choice; I’m just blurting out whatever’s on my mind. “I need you again.”
Her yes is more of a needy groan, and I know before I even touch her that she’s ready. When my fingers find the warmth between her legs, she inhales a sharp breath. This time, there’s no foreplay, no dicking around—it’s urgent.
I lift her up and wind her legs around my back. We move forward, her back crashing against the wall harder than I’d intended. “Sorry, sweetheart,” I say, watching her eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
Her eyes shine with need and she shakes her head as she pulls me harder against her. I catch the back of her head as she throws it back, just before she hits the wall, her hair soft and damp against my fingers.
“I thought about you in the shower,” she whispers. “Daydreamed, really.”
Hot damn. I lower her hips, closing my eyes, savoring that first moment as we join in a mesh of limbs. This time, it’s about need, raw, dangerous need, and I don’t hold back. I want her to be mine, mine alone, and that thought is terrifying, so I thrust harder, faster, her moans growing louder and wilder with each passing second.