The next morning, I wake up before Margo.
I slide out of bed as carefully as I can, glancing at the clock to see that it’s just after 6:30 a.m., then head into the kitchen to rustle up some breakfast. Once again, I’ve slept like a rock, and I’ve never felt so rejuvenated.
Rifling through my fridge and cabinets, I pull out the ingredients to make an omelet and pancakes, as well as the oat milk I’ve started keeping in my fridge, then get cracking on breakfast. About fifteen minutes later, I hear floorboards creaking and glance over my shoulder to see Margo coming into the room. Her hair is messy, and she’s washed all the smudged make-up off her face, so her eyes are bright and her skin is dewy and fresh.
She’s wearing nothing but my spare jersey, which she must’ve packed in the bag she brought with her. The jersey is big on her, hanging down just over her hips and ass, leaving her long, lightly tanned legs and bare feet on full display. I suck in a sharp breath and turn away from the stove completely, not even thinking about the pancake I was just working on or the risk of burning it.
Fucking hell.
“What?” she says, self-consciously reaching up and tucking her sleep-tousled blond hair behind her ears. “What are you staring at?”
“I just want to commit this image to memory,” I rasp hoarsely. “Because that is quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She blushes and walks farther into the room, padding across the kitchen toward me. “I’ve worn your jersey before, you know.”
“Not like this.”
Never only my jersey and nothing else.
Never barefoot in my kitchen, looking like a literal goddess.
Never after a night like last night.
As soon as she’s close enough to me, I snatch her up and pull her in for a kiss.
“How do you feel?”
“Good.” She grins. “A little sore, but I actually can still walk. And I’m hungry.”
“So am I.”
I kiss her deeper to show her how true that is. She rises up onto her tiptoes, arching against me, and what started as a semi-innocent meeting of lips turns into something more intense. Sliding my hands down her body, I grip her waist and lift her up onto the kitchen counter. She lets out the sexiest little noise against my mouth, and my cock hardens as I grind against her, tasting her like I’ll never get enough.
Her legs wrap around me as we make out, and I’m on the verge of shoving my pants down and dragging her to the edge of the counter so I can fuck her right here and now… when an acrid scent hits my nose.
“Shit! Burning!”
We break apart, and I rush to take the smoking pan off the hot burner. Margo laughs, the sound filling my kitchen in a way that makes the entire room seem brighter.
“What are you making?” she asks, tugging the jersey down a little as she adjusts her weight on the counter.
“Well, I was making pancakes,” I inform her with a grimace. “Although this one is officially a failure. But here, the omelet I made earlier is perfect.”
I bring the plate with the fluffy omelet on it over to her, then cut into it with the fork and feed her a bite. She closes her eyes as she chews, moaning softly in appreciation. My dick, still at half-mast from our make-out session a moment ago, stands at attention all over again, and I let out a groan.
“You know,” I tell her with a smirk, “you’re making me a little jealous of that omelet.”
“What?” Her eyes pop open, and she gives me a quizzical look. “Why?”
“You sound like you’re about to come.” I slide a hand up her thigh, relishing the way her pupils expand slightly in response. “And I want to be the only one who makes you moan like that.”
A flush rises in her cheeks, turning them a gorgeous shade of pink, and she grins as she says, “I mean, technically, you are. You’re the one who cooked the omelet, right? So you’re the reason I’m moaning.”
“Good point.” I nod possessively, giving her thigh a squeeze. “And it has now become my life’s goal to make you moan like that as much as possible. Whether it’s by feeding you…” I lean in closer, dropping my voice to a low growl. “Or eating out that sweet little pussy of yours.”
Her thighs clamp together in response to my words, trapping my hand between them, and I can’t resist teasing her with my fingers a little as I press my lips to hers once more. Then I force myself to take a step back and finish cooking her breakfast.
She stays perched on the counter next to the stove and watches me cook, taking a bite of her omelet every now and then. Once I’ve got a proper batch of pancakes made, I help her down. I pour us each a mug of coffee and get out the oat milk and sugar for her to doctor hers up, and we sit together at the kitchen table.
“You’re a really good cook,” she says as she digs into her second pancake. “Who knew?”
“You would’ve known,” I say teasingly, reaching out to nudge her with my foot. “If you had actually come up to my apartment the other night and tried the dinner I made for you. Which reminds me, we still haven’t gone on an official date yet.”
“Last night didn’t count?” she asks with a raised brow.
“Nope. I mean, don’t get me wrong, last night was incredible. But that wasn’t like a date date, you know? I want to take you out and show you a good time.”
She smiles, then looks down at her plate, swirling her fork through a bit of syrup. “So if we start going out on dates, that would mean we’re… dating?”
I laugh. “I hope so. Exclusively. If you’re into that.”
Her cheeks turn red, and she glances up at me through her lashes. “Yeah. I’m into that.”
I grin, feeling like I could walk on fucking air right now. I haven’t looked at or even thought about anyone else since this sweet, feisty, talented woman crashed into my life, and it feels amazing to be able to tell her that without worrying about scaring her off.
Margo rests her elbows on the table, her expression turning a little more serious as she adds, “But, uh, we should still probably keep all of this a secret from everyone at work. I don’t know if intra-company relationships are officially prohibited, but I’m not sure how Ted and the rest of the higher-ups would feel if they found out I was dating the captain of the team, especially since my contract is still provisional.”
“Right.” I nod, making sure not to let my face drop. I promised Margo I would respect her boundaries and not go bragging to everyone I see that I’m dating the most beautiful, amazing woman who’s ever existed, but that doesn’t mean I particularly love the idea of keeping this a secret. Regardless, I’m determined to do what she asks, and I can see that this is important to her. “Of course. I won’t tell a soul.”
“Thanks,” she murmurs. “It’s just… easier this way. For now. I’m still so new to the job, and there are people in charge of my department I haven’t even met yet. I would hate for them to first hear about me as ‘Noah Blake’s New Girlfriend.’ Like, I can imagine walking into a meeting one day and introducing myself, and having the owner of the team be like ‘Oh yeah, I know you. You’re Noah’s latest girl.’ They would just never take me seriously after that.”
“I get it,” I assure her. “As long as you’re mine when it’s just the two of us, that’s all I need for now. But when I can shout it from the rooftops, let me know, because you better believe I will.”
She smiles at that, and we move on to the topic of what we might do for our first date. Before I know it, an hour has gone by. I groan as I realize it’s time for me to clear the table and get ready for practice. Margo helps me bring the dishes to the sink and starts rinsing them off, but I put my hand on hers and shake my head.
“Don’t you dare wash a single dish,” I warn her.
She smiles. “But you cooked everything. This is the least I can do.”
“I won’t have it,” I insist. “Put the plate down, or else.”
“Or else what?” she asks flirtatiously.
“Or else this.”
I grab her wrist and hook my other arm around her waist. She lets go of the plate, and I pull her in for a kiss as her body molds against mine. I can feel her nipples poking through the fabric of my jersey, and it takes everything in my power to not carry her back to the bedroom and fuck her all morning long.
But we both know what time it is, and we both have to get to work soon. She pulls away first, and we sigh simultaneously.
“I have to get ready,” I say, making a face.
“I know. Me too.”
I hold her hand as we walk down the hallway to the bedroom, and she gets dressed. She puts on the same black dress that she wore the night before, but then throws the jersey back on over it. She looks amazing, and all I want to do is rip each item of clothing off, undoing all the work she just did putting them on.
At the front door, we try to say goodbye, but I can’t seem to let her go.
“Noah,” she whimpers, and hearing her say my name only makes it that much harder. “I’m gonna be late.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” I kiss her once more and then start to loosen my grip around her waist, but as she pulls away, I bring her back in. “Just one more. Fuck.”
We kiss again, and then she reaches behind her back and unhooks my hands.
“I’ll see you at the rink,” she promises.
She lifts up onto her tiptoes and kisses me one last time, only now, she’s the one who lingers. Taking her lead, I push my tongue into her mouth, hungry for more, and we stand there making out in the doorway for a few seconds. Finally, we part, and I pull my hands away and hold them up in the air to prove that I’m not going to reach for her again.
“Hurry,” I tell her with a hungry grin. “You’d better get out of here while you can. You’re fucking addicting, you know that?”
She bites her lip, backing away toward the elevator as she grips the straps of her bag. “Right back at you, Noah Blake.”
Good. We can be addicted together.
