Face Off (D.C. Stars, #1)

by Chelsea Curto

“This is my jersey.” “Is it?” “Maverick. What are… Why are you wearing my jersey?” “Because it’s Heroes and Legends night. You’re my hero, Hartwell, and you’re definitely going to become a legend. You already are, but technically I don’t think we can classify one season in the NHL as legendary. Kind of bullshit if you ask me. Also, I distinctly remember you asking when I was planning on having your name across my back, so here we are.”

“It’s a fucking honor and a privilege to play beside you. There was never any doubt about who I wanted to represent. It’s you, and it’s always going to be you.” “Are you just talking about the jersey?” Emmy tips her chin up. “Or something else?”

“I want more with you, Emmy. I want to come home to you every night and I want to take you out to dinner in the city. I want to hold your hand on the sidewalk and I want to kiss you in the rain. I want all that shit they talk about in the movies. I’m going to be honest with you, though. I don’t have a fucking clue how to be in a relationship or how to be a boyfriend, but I’m going to learn. I’m going to try, and you’re the only person I’d ever want to try with. This isn’t just sex to me, and it hasn’t been for a while. If keeping it casual is the only way I get to keep you, then so be it. But I think you want something more too.”

“You deserve all the nice things, Emmy girl, and when you’re with me, I’m going to give them to you.” I love him.

“I don’t care that you told them.” I smile and trace the freckles on her shoulder. I spell out the word mine and add a little heart at the end. “I’ve been wanting to shout from the rooftops that you’re my girlfriend for a while now.” “You’re not allergic to that word, are you? Do you understand what it means?” “Says the woman who told me she doesn’t date hockey players. I know what that word means. It means I’m yours and you’re mine. You make me happy, and I hope I make you happy too.” “You make me happy,” she says softly. “You make me happier than anyone else ever has.”

I write the word mine with her freckles again. Mine, mine, mine. All mine, for as long as she’ll have me. I hope it’s forever.

Love. I love her? The blood drains from my face and I pinch the bridge of my nose. Oh, god. I love her. I fucking love her. I love her, and I’d do anything for her.

“You’re so full of yourself.” “What if I beg?” Maverick bends his head and grazes his teeth down my neck. “What if I beg like a good boy, Emmy?”

“You’re beautiful,” he says. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“This is my meal, isn’t it? I’ve been a very good boy, Emmy. I’ve earned a taste, haven’t I?”

“I have an appointment next week. I wasn’t joking about putting mine on the back of my hand. I want to see it every time I touch you. A pretty necklace for my pretty girl.”

“Remember when you said you’re the only woman I’ve ever fucked twice because I can’t get enough of you?” Maverick asks, taking both of my breasts in his hands. His thumbs brush over my nipples, and a stuttered exhale leaves my body. “You were right, Emmy. I’ll never get enough of you. I’ll never get enough of your body and the way it fits perfectly with mine. I’ll never get over your brilliant brain and wonderful heart. I’m going to have you until the end of time, and it’s going to be just as good as right now, baby, because you’re perfect for me.”

“Want to see what you look like full of my cum. Want to see what it looks like when you’re mine.”

“Every day I’m going to show you just how enough you are.” “And I’m going to show you every day how wanted you are,”

It seems so insignificant, because what I feel for her is bigger than the sky. The whole fucking planet. You could go all the way to outer space and there still wouldn’t be enough ways to show her how much I adore her.

“I’ll retire if that’s what it takes to be with you,” he says. I laugh even though it’s not funny. He’d never do that. “Why would you give up the sport you love?” “Because I love you more!” he shouts, and my mouth parts. His chest heaves and he closes his eyes. Surely I didn’t hear him right. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell, but you need to hear it. I love you. I love every part of you, and that won’t change whether you’re here or there. I told you early on I’d find a way to track you down, and I would. I will, baby, because I fucking love you.