I can’t remember a time when I was ever this eager to get a game over with.
We’ve been on the road for the last week, and all I want to do is crawl into my bed and wrap my arms around Ryan for a week straight.
Obviously, that week-straight part won’t happen, but still. I just want to be at home.
It has nothing to do with hockey either. We’re currently 9—2—1. We’re playing like the champions we are, and my numbers are looking damn good. I’ve put up four goals and five assists. I’ve never started a season this hot before. I feel good on the ice. My playing is at its all-time best. I feel rested and relaxed, and I’m making good plays.
So why am I eager to get home and away from the game I love so much?
Ryan.
The more time we spend together, the more I hate leaving her for these road games, which is crazy to me. I love hockey. I’ve always loved hockey. It’s been my life for as long as I can remember. It’s always been an escape, and even more so after my accident. I was able to lose myself in the game and ignore the rest.
But lately, I don’t want to escape. I just want to spend time with Ryan.
I’ll admit, when Collin and Harper started dating, I did my best to avoid her. It pissed me off how easily she charmed everyone around her. It was easy for her to command the attention of any group because of her beauty, and frankly, it annoyed me.
But what I know now is I was missing all those special parts of her that she keeps hidden under the surface. She’s more than the bubbly, sunshiny personality she puts out there. She’s deep and thoughtful and just a touch emotionally scarred from her parents leaving her. But she’s also funny, and smart, and caring. The way she gives everything up for the people she loves most in her life blows me away.
She blows me away.
My phone buzzes on the bench next to me and I pick it up. I don’t typically spend time on my phone before games, but when I see Ryan’s name come across my screen, I can’t help but snatch it.
And I’m glad I did.
Ryan: *picture*
Ryan: Good luck! We’re rooting for you!!
She looks so fucking cute sitting there in my jersey, Poe and Frodo flanking her on the couch.
She’s been doing this every night I’ve been away, sending me little good luck texts or congratulations afterward. Sometimes she’ll even text me play-by-plays as she sees them from a different angle.
It’s cute as hell, and I look forward to them way more than I’d like to admit.
“Dude, based on the way you’re looking at that phone right now, I’d say you just got a very nice picture from your lady,” Collin says, flopping down on the bench next to me.
“You sound like Miller.”
Collin’s face twists up. “Oh, fuck. I do. Gross.”
“Hey! I heard that,” Miller says, flipping us off.
“Sorry. I think I’m just horny.”
Now it’s my turn to look disgusted. “I’d really rather not hear about your dick problems, thank you.”
“I’m just saying, being away this long fucking blows. One more game and I get to go home to my girl.”
“I hear you there.”
I know the moment I say it, I’m about to catch hell.
“Oh, you hear me, huh?”
I sigh. “Don’t you have someone else to go bother?”
“And miss that annoyed scowl on your face? No, thanks.”
Said scowl deepens, and he laughs.
“I take it things are still going well?” I nod. “You two have been looking awfully cozy lately.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. Just…”
When he doesn’t continue, I lift my hands. “Just what?”
“I don’t know. Be careful, I guess.”
“Be careful?”
He nods. “Yeah. You know…because of the whole ‘faking it’ thing.”
I glance around the room, but nobody is paying us any attention.
“There’s nothing to worry about. We’ve drawn some pretty clear lines.”
He studies me. “Have you?”
“Yeah.”
“So you definitely have boundaries, then?”
“For sure.”
“And you’re following them?”
“Mostly, yeah.”
“Mostly?”
“She has her own bedroom.”
He doesn’t look impressed. “Does she sleep in there?”
I don’t answer that, which is answer enough.
“See my point? You’re already breaking all your rules, even the simple ones. You have to keep things separate or else it’s going to start feeling real.”
I gulp.
Things already feel real.
“Oh. Okay. Wow. Disregard everything I just said.” He waves a hand in front of my face. “It’s clear as day I’m too late.”
“Huh?”
Collin’s brows are near his hairline, and he’s looking at me like I’m stupid. “You’re in love with her, dude.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I am not.”
“You are. You really are.”
“I’m really not. I promise.”
“Uh-huh. So she’s not the first thing you think about in the mornings?”
“Well, yeah, but only because she’s usually stolen all the covers in the middle of the night and I’m annoyed with her.”
“Hm. Okay. She’s not the person you’re most excited to see when you get home from an away game?”
“Frodo is.”
“Right. And she’s definitely not the one who has you acting like an actual human for once and not walking around like you have a stick up your ass?”
“She…” Well, okay. So I have been more…approachable lately. But that’s just because I’ve been getting laid regularly, I’m sure. “No. It’s not like that.”
Collin chuckles. “Right. Sure. Whatever you have to keep telling yourself.”
“I’m not telling myself anything. It’s true.”
“Okay.”
I scrub a hand down my face, my irritation growing. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Saying okay like that—like you don’t believe me.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I’m just saying you’re full of shit.”
“Collin…”
“Rhodes…” he mocks. “Look, I’m just saying, would it really be such a bad thing if you were in love with her? I mean, she is your wife after all.”
Would it be a bad thing if I were in love with Ryan? Yes, yes it would be.
And that’s because she’s my wife but not my wife. We’re married, but only on paper. It’s not like she’s with me because she actually likes me. If we hadn’t gotten drunk married, we would have continued on ignoring one another just like we were. There’d be no this right now.
So, can I be in love with her? No.
Collin pats me on the back, then pushes up off the bench. “Just be careful,” he repeats. “And get those fucking skates on. We got a game to win.”
The house is dark when I get home. I stop in the kitchen for a quick bottle of water and then check to make sure Frodo and Poe are comfortable. They’re in their now usual position of being snuggled together in Frodo’s bed.
I step into the bedroom and marvel at the sight in front of me.
Ryan is curled up in the middle—because that’s where she always sleeps—and she has her arms wrapped around my pillow. The moonlight is filtering over her, the light and shadows mixed to create a stunning image.
I’m not good with the camera, but I grab hers anyway and snap a quick picture. It’ll be a surprise for her when she wakes. I set the camera on the bedside table and almost feel bad about having to crawl into bed with her because she looks so peaceful.
But I can’t not touch her right now.
I strip my clothes off, tossing them haphazardly across the room, and climb into bed behind her. I wrap my arm around her waist, tugging her close. There’s no way she doesn’t feel my hard cock against her bare ass.
I know it too because it doesn’t take long before she’s wiggling against me, stirring awake. She tangles our fingers together, and I rub at her ring.
“Hey,” she mutters, her voice scratchy and full of sleep. “I tried waiting up for you, but I passed out.” She rolls over in my arms, facing me. “That was an intense game, but I’m glad you guys won.”
“I’m glad we did too.”
New York ended up scoring with just a minute left in the third period. Overtime was fucking exhausting, and neither team could capitalize on it. We finally won in the shootout with a wicked rocket from Miller. Fucking rookie saved our asses again. He’ll never let us live it down.
“I missed you,” I say to her, capturing her mouth for a kiss.
I fit my lips against hers and kiss her lazily, taking my time as our tongues stroke together.
She grins against me when I finally pull away. “I missed you too.”
“Yeah?”
“On a scale of one to seeing my titties…” she says, pushing me onto my back. She climbs on top of me, straddling me just like she did that first morning. “It’s a solid titties.”
She grabs the hem of her shirt, ready to strip it off, but I stop her.
“Wait.” Her brows scrunch together. “Leave it on.”
“On? But I thought…”
I tug her down, kissing her quickly. “I’d love to see your titties, baby girl, but right now, what I’d love even more is to eat your pussy while you sit on my face wearing my jersey.”
Her eyes gloss over at my words, and I know she wants that too.
I smack at her ass. “Get up there.”
She moves faster than I’ve ever seen her move before, fitting her knees around my head.
“Hands on the headboard, Ryan.”
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and does what I say.
“Lower.”
“Huh?”
“Lower. Sit lower.”
“But…”
“I said sit, not hover.” I smack her ass again and she moans. “Lower.”
She obliges, lowering her pussy to my mouth.
She sighs the moment my tongue slides against her, her eyes rolling back in her head. And I do as I promise. I tongue-fuck her cunt and suck her clit into my mouth. I eat her, taking my time to get my fill so long that she stops being worried about suffocating me and starts fucking herself on my face.
I feel her trembling from the exhaustion of holding herself up, and I know she’s teetering closer and closer to the edge by the second.
I test my luck by sliding my finger through her wet folds, back to her hole. She tenses when my finger brushes against her. I suck her clit into my mouth again, playing with her until she relaxes against the touch.
“Rhodes…” She whimpers when I slip the tip of my finger in.
I keep my mouth on her, not letting up, and it’s not long before she’s rocking against it, pushing my digit in deeper.
And it’s not long after that until she’s coming apart.
I withdraw my finger as her shakes subside, continuing to lap at her until she comes down off her high. She scoots back down my body looking satiated—but I’m not done with her yet.
I flip her onto her back, fitting myself between her legs and sliding into her without hesitation.
“Ooohh,” she cries out, arching into me as I fuck into her slowly.
I cradle her face in my hands, kissing her, letting the strokes of my tongue match what I’m doing between her legs.
It’s a slow, agonizing dance and I want to fuck her harder and faster, but I want to take my time too.
Her breaths begin coming in sharper, and I know another orgasm is building.
“Rhodes…I need…”
She doesn’t have to finish her sentence. I know her body by heart at this point.
I push to my knees, keeping my slow, languid pace, and press my thumb to her clit. She sighs at my touch, panting and pleading for a release.
Finally, she breaks, spasming around me, milking my own orgasm from my body.
Exhausted, I collapse, rolling onto my back and taking her with me. She’s sprawled across me, her body limp and worn.
“So good. So, so good,” she murmurs, the words slurred with sleep.
It’s not long before I hear the faint sounds of her snoring.
I don’t know how long I lie there watching her, her head resting on my chest, her features soft and sated.
But I do know she’s perfect. This is perfect. Nothing in the world could be better than this moment.
And that’s what scares me the most.
