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“I’ve been thinking about it, and I feel like I deserve to get railed this weekend.”
She’s in her element now, confidence radiating from head to toe—from her wide smile to her self-assured posture to the notable pep in her step. She’s a fucking vision, isn’t she?
“Go in there with your perfect, golden hair, your shit-eating grin, and all your unmerited connections. Just know that when I beat you, it’s because I’ve actually earned it.” “You think my hair is perfect?”
“Well, I’m sure you killed it. You’re gonna top your girl Kaia, no doubt.” “I’d definitely fucking like to,” I say, grinning at the innuendo that’s slipped right over poor Rai Rai’s head. “That’s one thing I know for sure.”
“You know what? Fine. As embarrassing as this is, I’m looking for a hookup tonight. If you have any friends that aren’t total jerks, I’d be down for a setup.” At her request, there’s an uncomfortable pinching sensation in my chest. For some reason, I’m rattled by the thought of her hooking up with one of my teammates. It’s not because I want her for myself—to date her or anything like that—but it’s just the principle of the matter. Kaia Karras is mine to fuck with.
I want someone who wouldn’t let my family steamroll her. Someone who’s fiercely independent and who can handle my hockey career. She needs to have ambition, drive, a sharp mind, and an even sharper wit. And she’s not just someone’s fucking arm candy, that’s for damn sure. If I really wanted to torture myself, I might admit that my description sounds a hell of a lot like a girl I already know . . . one who won’t even bother to look at me right now.
“You know, I missed you last week.” “What?” “I missed talking to you,” he admits, his gaze intense. “This ignoring shit you’ve been doing? Yeah, it doesn’t really work for me.” I’m momentarily speechless. Honestly, I assumed that he didn’t care either way if we talked. “Holden,” I murmur softly, uncertain of what else to say. “Kaia.” He parrots my tone. “Look, if you’re pissed at me, then just tell me. Fight with me. Yell at me. But don’t shut me out. I don’t like seeing you everywhere, knowing that you’re just gonna look the other way.”
“You must know I want you, Karras,” I admit, my heart hammering in my ears. “I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. And if you’re looking for just one night, then count me in.”
“You still think I don’t like you?” I lean back, running a frustrated hand through my hair. “Kaia, I fucking adore you.” Her brow furrows. “What?” “I admire the hell out of you. I think you’re smart, funny, witty, beautiful.” I stop myself before I get truly carried away. “There’s never a dull moment when we’re around each other.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” I murmur, sliding my hands up her firm thighs. “I’ll be so fucking good to you.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you want to be my last resort?” A smirk tilts my lips. “As long as I’m your something.”
“I just can’t seem to get enough of you,” I rasp, pressing a kiss to her sweat-damp collarbone, tracing it with my lips. “Yeah,” she murmurs back. “I know the feeling.”
“If it wasn’t obvious by now—I kinda give a shit about you, Karras.” I tense up in his arms. “Ah, I see.” “And I think you give a shit about me, too.” “Yeah,” I quietly, hesitantly agree. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
“Please, no,” she says, still laughing. This time, it’s full, unbridled, a small symphony of giggles that escape her until she’s pink in the face. “I’m too fragile for your punishment.” “You asked for it.” I lean down to kiss her neck, nuzzling my nose into the crook and nipping at her soft skin. She arches into me, and I release her hands. She tangles them into my hair as I kiss my way across her face. The taste of her is like honey on my lips, sweet and addictive. Heat radiates off her in waves, and it only ignites the flames burning within me. I need her, need this, need us.
Eeee this is such a cute scene 🥹
I said before that I was content to leave things how they are, but I’m realizing that’s a bald-faced lie. I’m so fucking far from being content. The truth is, I want this girl for a million other reasons than what she can do for me in the bedroom. I want to wake up with her in the mornings and not have to worry about whether or not I crossed a line. I want to take care of her when she’s sick and not have to practically force her into letting me. I want to fight with her and not have to fear that she’ll never speak to me again. I want security. Trust. To be the one person she comes to when
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“Take off your fucking skirt, baby.”
I press a kiss to her crown, hold her against me, and make a silent promise here and now: I’ll do everything in my power not to screw this up.
I want this girl. I want her in all the ways that matter. I want to be the one she turns to when she’s feeling down, the one she laughs with, the one she dreams with. The one she trusts with every tiny secret and insecurity.
