Early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting the bed in a soft glow. I couldn’t stop the smile that shaped my lips as I stretched in the bed, my mind waking up.
Cannon’s tongue working me into a tangled fury of nerves.
Cannon’s muscled arms, encasing me, guiding me, showing me.
Cannon’s lips on my skin, his kiss like a brand.
The massive size of him and the way he’d been gentle, caring, as he made love to me for the first time.
Then the way he’d let me take control again and again throughout the night.
Memories and sensations hit me in hot waves of need, so much I had to shift my legs to ease the ache. The soreness between my thighs was not at all unpleasant, and the thought of exploring more with Cannon had my heart racing.
Then my arm reached the other side of the bed, and the breath rushed my lungs.
Empty.
Too early for a morning skate.
I bolted upright, cradling the sheet around my naked breasts.
I heard the shower shut off, and soon after, Cannon walked out with nothing but a towel around his hips.
Relief uncoiled within me, my blinding panic at his absence after the night we’d had—
“Good morning,” I drawled…To his back?
He headed straight to his closet and disappeared.
The icy panic returned as he came back out fully clothed.
Suddenly, I felt more naked than I actually was.
“Cannon?” I wrapped the sheet around me and waddled over to him, putting myself in his path. “Cannon, look at me,” I demanded when he seemed hell-bent not to.
“What happened last night,” he said, the wall back over his eyes as he appraised me from head to toe. “It can’t happen again,” his words were clipped, icy.
I swallowed hard, something cold and oily snaking through my veins. My eyes found the floor. “Was I not…I mean, I don’t have the experience you’re used to—”
His fingers on my chin stopped my words, and he gently forced me to meet his eyes. “Last night…” A muscle in his jaw flexed as he silently debated something. “Was the best night of my life.” The words were a struggle for him to get out like he had to fight some inner demon to free them.
Warmth melted the freezing rejection in my blood. “Really?”
He nodded.
“Then why can’t we do it again?” I grinned at him, reaching my free hand toward his face.
He backed away a step.
Then another.
“Persephone,” he said, and I knew the use of my real name meant business. “The closer we get, the harder it will be when this all ends.” He motioned between us.
“Why not enjoy the time we have together?” I asked, completely ignoring the pain at the mention of our end-date. I knew it would come. We’d known it when we’d struck this bargain, but it didn’t mean I had to think about it just now.
He shook his head, true pain and conflict flashing in his dark eyes.
I took a step toward him.
He retreated.
Fine.
He needed a little push, I’d push him.
I advanced slowly, never taking my eyes off of him until his spine hit the wall near the bathroom door.
The most terrifying man in the NHL had been backed into a corner by little old me. Power and hunger and pure want sizzled through my veins. “Look at me, Cannon,” I said, and boldly let the sheet covering my body drop to the floor.
That muscle in his jaw ticked as a growl radiated from his chest. His eyes feasted on my naked body, trailing along every curve and dip until he met my eyes once more.
“I didn’t break,” I said, spinning slowly so he could see me entirely. I’d never been so bare, so vulnerable in my life—but I didn’t feel fear. No, I trusted this man. With everything, and perhaps in that, I should be a little afraid.
A hint of a smile on his lips.
“I’m stronger than you think,” I continued. “And it was hard to keep my hands off you before. Now?” I shook my head, running my hands over the Reaper T-shirt he wore, digging my fingertips into his strong chest. “Now that I know what you feel like inside me? Taste like?” I sucked my teeth. “I want more.”
Another growl, this one bordering on frustration.
“Unless you don’t want me,” I said and took a step back, wanting to be absolutely fair to him. I’d never force something he didn’t actually want, but from the way he’d touched me last night…
I reached toward the sheet on the floor, ready to cover myself again.
Cannon stopped me with a gentle hand on my wrist. “You know that isn’t true,” he said, his voice low, raspy. He guided my hand to his athletic pants and situated it over his very hard, very large cock. The feel of it, even beneath the fabric, sent a pool of heat between my thighs. “Clearly, I want you. That’s never been the problem.”
I looked up at him, my eyes hooded, needy. “Then what is the problem?” I squeezed him gently, and the hiss he gave me sent chills along my bare skin.
“The problem,” he said, taking my hand and putting it back on his chest. “Is that we have an expiration date. And I don’t want to get hooked on you only to have you ripped away.”
The truth, for both of us.
“Too late,” I practically purred. Another truth. I had a Cannon craving I wasn’t sure any amount of time with him would ever satisfy.
Another, wider smile.
“Why think about the future?” I asked. “When the present is so much more appealing?”
He leaned his head back against the wall, banging it slightly over and over again. “I need to think about it,” he said. “For both our sakes.”
I knew that. I had anticipated that. Cannon thought everything through, usually for other people’s benefit. Not that he’d ever tell anyone that. But I knew him. Just like I knew if he were a selfish man, he’d take and take what I offered with no regard for the state of my heart when this did eventually end. But he wasn’t doing that. Wasn’t taking what I so freely offered. He wouldn’t, not without a proper think on all the pros and cons and what-ifs.
So, knowing that, knowing him, I smiled up at him and nodded. “You do that,” I said. “And I’ll just be in the shower thinking about it.” I let my fingers graze down the center of my breasts, showing him exactly where my mind was. Thanks to him.
I brushed past him, leaving the door to the bathroom wide open as I turned on the shower.
He didn’t follow me in, but I heard him grumble, impossible woman, before I stepped into the water.
“Are you sure you want to take another shot?” Harper asked from her seat to my left. “You know what happened the last time you were this drunk,” she teased.
Langley laughed from my right, Delaney on her opposite side, and Echo hiss-chuckled from behind the bar. Annabelle and Faith were on the other side of Harper, sipping their own drinks.
“One,” I said, holding up said shot. “I wasn’t drunk when I married my own personal Hades.” A warm flutter shuddered through me at the thought of him. “Two,” I continued, throwing back the shot. “You’d be so lucky if we ended up married tonight.” I nudged Harper’s shoulder playfully.
“Touché.” Harper held up her shot, as did Langley, and threw them back at the same time.
“Like this one is ever going to set a date,” Faith joked, her hand covering Harper’s engagement ring.
“Nothing wrong with a long engagement!” Harper fired back.
“I agree,” Annabelle said, eying her own ring.
“It’s been too long,” I said, lightly smacking the bar. “I needed this girls’ night.”
Langley grinned. “Well, we hadn’t officially gotten to initiate you into the Queens of Reaper Village club yet. You’ve been married over two months! It was high time.”
Two months?
Had it really been that long? The time with Cannon had been a blur—one big blissful blur and after last night? God, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted it to end.
A sizzling chill zinged down the center of me, and I had to shift myself on the barstool to relieve the pressure. It didn’t work, and I knew there was only one thing that could satisfy this driving need.
Cannon.
That is if he ever decided to touch me again.
“Another shot!” I waved to Echo. “Please,” I added with my best smile.
Echo laughed. “You’re a mess,” she said, but poured the shot. “What’s going on up there?” She pointed to my forehead.
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t use your super-cool-understanding-bartender-voodoo on me. Not tonight. Tonight is about fun. About spending time with you girls.” I sighed. “You’re all just so damn wonderful, and I’m happy you’ve accepted me into your tight-knit circle.”
My statement was met with a collective aww and followed by a massive girl-group-hug that had me feeling the love so much it hurt. There was something about having a proper group of girlfriends—women who wanted nothing more than to build you up, have your back when shit went down, and smack some sense into you when you needed it. I’d never known true girl-friendship until I’d met these wonderful women. My girlfriends prior were all social climbers, more using my status and name to advance themselves than to be my actual friend. They never had my best interests at heart, not like these women.
Once the love-fest retreated back to a drink-fest, we drank and laughed and swapped stories for an hour—or was it two? Delaney was as new to the hockey love as I was, so we both hung on the words of veterans like Faith, Harper, and Langley. In the end, though, it all came down to love. Pure, unfiltered, complicated, chaotic, beautiful love.
And something pulsed in my heart, deep in a locked box I wouldn’t dare touch. Something I understood with a clarity that shouldn’t be possible after this many drinks. I ignored the sensation and focused on the fun—the whole reason for this night in the first place.
Slowly, Reaper men filed into Scythe to collect their inebriated wives, fiancées, or girlfriends, but not before having a drink at their table across the way. Mine, of course, had yet to show.
“Come on!” Harper teased. “You have to tell us.”
I laughed so hard my sides split.
“Yes, we’ve told you,” Faith chimed in.
“Is he truly terrifying in every aspect?” Harper asked again, waggling her eyebrows. “Or is it a good sort of terror?”
I shook my head. “He’s never scared me.”
Another round of awws.
I motioned to Langley. “I mean her’s on the other hand…”
Langley rolled her eyes. “Axel is nothing but a giant teddy bear.”
“Giant being the optimum word,” I teased.
“Can’t argue that,” Langley said, raising her glass.
“I think it’s safe to say all our men are large and terrifying in their own way,” Delaney said. “I mean, they’re like sharks on the ice for god’s sake. Watching them? And the fights sometimes?” She shuddered.
I swallowed hard, knowing my husband was the most frequent of the fighters—that short fuse of his was twice as short on the ice. Something I was closer to understanding because of the surprise visit by that vile man who was his biological father, but I didn’t have the full picture yet.
My heart expanded and broke at the same time remembering the shower—his explanation of some of the scars and the tattoos that covered them up. He’d let me in a little, but not all the way.
I have time.
But not much. The cold fact of that made something heavy sink on my chest. I wanted to know Cannon, inside and out. It went beyond the insatiable craving, the primal need—I wanted to uncover what he kept hidden in that soul that made him feel so damn unworthy all the time. I wanted to know him fully, so I could show him how incredible he was and have him actually believe it.
“You know what?” I scooted off my barstool, standing—if not a bit wobbly on my pumps—as I raised my last shot. “I’m so damn lucky!” I said, slightly louder than necessary. “To have you,” I said, eyeing the women surrounding me. “And to have Cannon.” I closed my eyes, my smile unstoppable as I breathed deep. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known. And I truly don’t know what I did to deserve him.” I opened my eyes, which were covered in water. “Thank you, Reapers!” I tossed back the shot, the sweet liquor burning all the way down. The girls mimicked my last statement and did the same with their drinks.
“Now look who’s making a scene.” Cannon’s voice vibrated along my skin, his lips at my ear, the heat of his body at my back.
I spun to face him and tilted slightly, but Cannon steadied me with a gentle hand on my hip.
“You’re here,” I said, my words slightly slurred. Then I remembered my speech and cringed. “How long have you been here?”
The smile he reserved for me and me alone played along his lips. “Long enough to know you’re wasted.”
I stomped my pump against the hardwood floor. “I am no such thing!” I grinned. “Persephone VanDoren doesn’t get wasted,” I said. “I’m merely, slightly inebriated.”
“Mmmhmm,” Cannon said, placing his other hand on my hip.
“Take me home?” I asked, my head spinning.
Cannon nodded, waving to Connell and Logan and Lukas and Axel, who had joined their girls at the bar.
I said my goodbyes and thankyous and allowed Cannon to guide me out of the bar, only to pause when the cool summer night air hit me. I breathed deep, glancing up at the clear night sky. “Beautiful,” I sighed.
“Yes,” Cannon agreed.
I glanced at him, only to find his eyes solely on me. I smiled at him, then crooked my finger. “Come here.”
He eyed me, but came closer.
“Closer,” I said, and he bent until I could reach his neck. I gauged his reaction, but for once, that wall was gone, and nothing but admiration and respect laid in those dark eyes.
So I pressed my lips against his, gently at first, then with more hunger as he snaked his arms around my back, holding me to him.
“Princess,” he growled between my lips.
“Hades,” I teased back, lightly nipping at his bottom lip.
His fingers dug into my rear, lifting me slightly as he guided us to the wall. I slid my tongue along the seam of his lips, demanding entry, and he opened for me. Met me stroke for stroke.
“God, you kiss like a dream,” I moaned against his mouth.
“Not a nightmare?” he teased, flicking his tongue along the edges of my teeth.
I pulled back, took his face in both my hands to steady him—the damn spinning making it hard to focus on his dark eyes.
“Never,” I said. “You’re the dream, Cannon. Can’t you see that? The absolute dream.”
He smiled, free and unburdened. “And you’re drunk,” he said. “Likely won’t remember any of this.”
I glared at him. “I remember everything,” I said and darted my tongue out to graze his lips. He groaned and pressed me harder into the wall, eliciting a moan from my lips. “And I want you, Cannon. On every level a person can want another. You,” I clarified, running my hands over his chest and stopping over the dead center of it. “Not your body. Not your glorious, delicious body.”
He eyed me.
“Okay, not only your body.” I giggled. “I want what’s inside.” I patted the center of his chest. “I want you.”
Something more serious flashed in his eyes, but he quickly replaced it with a wicked smirk. He planted a gentle kiss along my lips, backing us away from the wall. “Tell me something else you want, Princess.”
He guided us back and back until he merely tucked me into his side, and he walked us toward his car. Once he had me properly situated and buckled inside, I rested my head against the seat and smiled at him.
“Tacos,” I answered.
A hoarse, beautiful laugh as he nodded from behind the wheel. “I knew it.”
We laughed some more, and as he drove, I never once took my eyes off him.
