Face Off (Seattle Serpents, #2)

by Teagan Hunter

He looks so hot leaning against my doorjamb in those jeans that are just tight enough on his strong legs, a simple heather-gray hoodie, and a hat with the Serpents logo twisted backward on his head.

“Some chocolate chip ice cream, a thing of brownie bites, rice crispy treats, chocolate-covered pretzels, a two-liter of Sprite, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, some cheap leftover Valentine’s Day candy, and two bags of sweet-and-spicy barbecue chips plucked straight from my pantry.” I gasp. “You’re sharing your chips with me?” He grins. “I’m sharing my chips with you, Wednesday.” “All right, fine. You can stay.”

Emotion catches in my throat. It’s all just so…sweet. And thoughtful. He’s thoughtful. Full of surprises too. He could have easily gone home and ignored me the rest of the night, letting me sleep off my crabbiness, but no. He came back because, despite the words coming out of my mouth, Lawson knew what I really wanted—him.

Besides, I like taking care of you. So when I saw you obviously weren’t feeling well, I wanted to do something to cheer you up, especially since I had to miss Valentine’s Day.” He grins down at me, and it’s almost bashful. “Did it work?” Let me take care of you.

“Watch the show. Relax. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll make out with you again later.” He winks, then turns back to the TV. A loud laugh rips from my chest, and it feels good. So, so good. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard since he left for his road trip, and honestly, I missed it. Just like I missed him.

“I missed you.” A slow grin inches across his face, that same glow to his eyes as before reigniting. “I know you did, Wednesday,” he says. “I know you did.”

I’ve played in front of so many people—my mother, my father, my grandparents, and even Wayne Gretzky himself—but none of that compares to playing in front of Rory.

She’s going to be in those stands tonight, and she’s going to be there cheering me on.

Keller smacks the stack of pucks down, and while I’d usually grab one and be off to the races, I don’t this time. I’m too damn busy looking for Rory. I don’t have to look hard—she’s sitting right across from the benches, a bored expression on her face, but I know her too well to believe she’s actually bored, especially not when her eyes are giving her away. She’s fucking thrilled to be here, a smile playing at her lips when our gazes connect.

I so badly want to skate over to her to tell her riding my face this morning wasn’t nearly enough and insist on a second round, but I can’t.

Besides, even if she won’t admit it, Rory likes me. I know I give her a good dicking, but there’s no way that’s the only reason she sticks around. We have too much fun outside the bedroom for that.

We’ve had a few more nights together like the one last week when she was on her period. Nights where we just sit in her bed and watch TV. Nights where we don’t fuck at all. Nights where we act an awful lot like a real couple. As much as I love fucking Rory—and I really, really do—I think it’s those nights I like the most.

She’s gorgeous under the arena lights, the green-and-black-and-gold Serpents jersey shimmering every time she moves. Her hair is piled up in a messy bun. She’s wearing a pair of leggings and not a stitch of makeup. She’s not here to look pretty or fancy or whatever. She’s here to watch hockey.

I’m doomed. So fucking doomed. Getting giddy over a smile… When did that happen? When did she burrow so deep inside of me? When did she become so fucking important? When did I… Oh shit.

When did I fall in love with her?

I love her. Holy shit, do I love her. I think it should surprise me more, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t, and I’m not quite sure what to do with that.

I love Aurora Sinclair, and dammit, I want her to know.

Because I just can’t help it, I look over to where Rory is, my breath catching in my lungs as she stands against the glass, her eyes locked on me and the biggest fucking smile on her face. My place? I mouth. She bites her bottom lip, nodding, and I grin, moving forward in line.

“I’m not…I’m not going to hurt Rory. If anything, it’s the opposite.” “So you’re going to protect her?” “Yes. With everything I have.”

“I love her, Hutch. I love her.” He stands before me, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes shining with disbelief at what he’s hearing right now. Then, ever so slowly, he grins. “Oh, you are so out of the fucking club now.”

“Tell her. She might not be ready, and that’s okay, but you should tell her.” “You think?” “Yeah. If there’s anything I wish I would have done differently with Auden, it’s that I should have told her a hell of a lot sooner how I felt. Could have saved us both the heartbreak.”

“That’s it, baby. Ride my cock. Ride it like it belongs to you because it does. It’s yours, Rory. Only yours.” “Mine,” she agrees in a sex-fueled daze,

“I can’t wait to fuck you here,” I tell her, collecting some of the mess we made and pressing my wet thumb against her tight hole. She moans, wiggling back, searching for more. “Yes. Please. I haven’t…”

“You mean I get this virgin ass to myself?” “Yours. Only yours,” she promises as I pound up into her, my thumb still playing against her asshole.

Gulping in heavy breaths, she falls back against me, my cock still nestled inside of her as I grab her chin, turning her face to capture her lips. I kiss her slowly and softly as I come down from my high, reaching around to pinch at her nipples, which has her wiggling in my lap. I love it. I love this moment. I love her.

“Come on, Rory. I’ve seen every part of you. There’s no reason to hide.” “Yeah, well, tell that to all the salt I consumed via the helmet of nachos I had during your game.” I laugh, shaking my head. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, Rory.”

She clutches the sheet tighter, hiding herself as if I didn’t just have my cock buried inside her or my thumb pressing against her ass as I promised to fuck it moments ago.

But I don’t know it because for me it is easy. Loving her is so simple too; it’s like skating or breathing. It’s effortless. It’s natural.

“You were supposed to be like me. You were supposed to not want that.” “I didn’t. I didn’t want that at all. Hell, I’ve been carrying that club all on my own for two years now, and yet I still fucking fell in love with you.”

What matters is, I didn’t want this, not at all, but it happened and I’m not going to run away from it. I’ve spent my entire life watching my mother do that because she got hurt by my father. I’m not going to let that same thing happen to me. So, I’m going to accept it. I’m going to own it.” I look her right in the eyes. “I love you.”