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My throat goes drier than dust. My heart races. I want to shout Yes! I’ve reconsidered! But I can’t. I made a promise to my brother.
Christ, that bathroom hook-up at Beau’s party? Out of this fucking world—and she hadn’t even touched me. I’d jerked off when I was down on my knees eating her pussy, and sweet Jesus, I can’t remember ever coming that hard from my own hand.
God. I want to come. She’s gotten me there twice this week. Once jacking me off, the other time using her mouth.
lean over to grab the laptop, which chimes loudly the moment I pick it up. “Uh…someone’s Skyping you, I think.” She peeks at the screen, then shoots up in a panic. “Oh no. Put your pants on!” I wrinkle my forehead. “Why?” “Because that’s my mother!”
I hear footsteps nearing the door, I suddenly have an idea. AKA the perfect payback for Grace’s desertion. Just as the door opens, I look intently at the screen and act like I’m still chatting with her mother. “—And she stuck her finger in my ass when she was blowing me, which was fucking incredible. I never thought I’d enjoy having anything up there, but—” Grace screams in horror. “Oh my God!” She dives onto the bed and grabs the laptop. “Mom, don’t listen to him! He’s just joking—” She stops abruptly, blinking at the screen before turning to glare at me. “You are such an asshole.”
One, I’ve never had more fun with a girl in my entire life. Two, I never want this to end. And three… I think I might be falling in love with her.
“No expectations, by the way. I’m not inviting you to, like, a three-day fuck fest or anything.” I snort. My boyfriend, ever the wordsmith. “I’ll even throw out all the condoms in the house, if you want. You know, to eliminate temptation.” I choke down a laugh. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” His voice thickens. “I just want to fall asleep with you. And wake up with you. And go down on you, if you’re in the mood for a John Logan orgasm.”
“Logan?” I blurt out before he can hang up. “Yeah?” I take a deep breath. “Don’t throw out the condoms.”
As I crash back to earth, he lifts his head with a soft curse. “I love making you come,” he mumbles. “It’s so fucking hot.”
he’s reaching into the top drawer on the night table to grab a condom. Swallowing hard, I watch him roll it down the length of his shaft.
His lips brush my temple. Softly. Sweetly. “You sure about this?” he whispers. I gaze up at him, my worries fading away. “Yes.”
“Don’t rush me, woman.” His gaze softens as he sweeps it over my face. “Are you sure?” “Yes—” That one measly syllable barely leaves my mouth before he plunges deep. I gasp, the jolt of pain taking me by surprise. He’s all the way inside, and from the tight stretch of his features, I know he’s forcing himself to remain still.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he rasps.
“Oh fuck.” He slams in one last time. His back, damp with sweat, trembles beneath my palms as he grunts in release.
“You should have put that line in your poem.” “I’ll write you another one,” he promises. “Oh God. Please don’t.”
Every time after we’ve had sex this weekend, I’ve almost blurted out that I love her. And every time, I’ve clamped my lips together to stop the words from escaping because I’m scared of saying it too soon.
I wasn’t sure about it before, then I’m damn well sure of it now. I love him.
the day he joined the team, Dean has shown a lack of intensity about our sport, which is a damn shame because he happens to be an amazing player. But he has no interest in playing hockey after college, at least not professionally.
Two months together and she’s still driving me crazy. Melting my goddamn brain with the pleasure she brings me.
words circle my heart and fill it with warmth. God, I love this guy. I know his opinion of Ramona isn’t exactly positive, but he still came to her aid tonight in spite of that, and I love him even more for it.
Maybe I’m on the verge of tears because I’m about to haul my own father in a fireman hold and help him take a shower. And then I’m going to dress him as if he’s a goddamn toddler and tuck him into bed. Maybe that’s why my eyes are stinging.
“You know what, John? Screw you.” I struggle to control my breathing. “Clearly you don’t know me at all if you think I’m the kind of person who would give up on a relationship the moment it hits a few obstacles.” He finally answers, his voice low and sullen. “Can we please not talk about this anymore?” Un-fucking-believable.
“And just in case my reaction to your idiocy didn’t make it clear where I stand with us, then let me spell it out for you.” I whirl around to scowl at him. “I love you, you stupid jackass.”
She’s absolutely right. I am a jackass. And I did doubt her commitment to our relationship. And— Wait. She loves me?
Morris saunters out of the booth and wanders over to us. He notices Daisy’s shirt and says, “Sweetheart, we’re at work. Show some decorum.”
I lean forward to take another call, only to freeze in my chair when a familiar voice wafts out of the speaker over the door. “Hey, this is Logan.”
God. I can’t believe he’s about to air our dirty laundry on this stupid campus show.
“I’ve been in love with her for a few months now,” he continues, and his husky confession re-inflates my heart. “I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to scare her off by saying it too soon.”
A shadow crosses my peripheral vision. I turn my head expecting to see Daisy or Morris on the other side of the glass door. My breath hitches when my gaze locks with Logan’s. He’s on his cell phone, wearing faded jeans and his hockey jacket, and his blue eyes shine with sincerity.
“Wait—you’re talking about Gretchen?” Pace exclaims, his gaze darting like a Ping-Pong ball from me to Logan. “No, I’m talking about Grace,” Logan says, smiling at me through the glass. “Grace Elizabeth Ivers. The woman I love.”
“Go,” Morris orders. “I’ll cover the rest of the show.” “Are you sure?” He grins. “That was always the plan. Who do you think screened the call, Gretch?” He points to the door. “Go.”
“You’re the last person I think about before I go to sleep, and the first person I think about when I open my eyes in the morning. You’re it for me, baby.”
“Love you, Johnny,” I murmur into his lips. His laughter warms my face. Then he brushes his mouth over mine and whispers, “Love you too, gorgeous.”
I grin, because I’m the one responsible for why her pants are flung on top of the dresser and why her lacy panties are scrunched up in a ball across the room. So sue me. Groveling makes me horny.
Dad looks from me to my brother, then addresses us in a voice that rings with despair. “I’m going back to rehab.”
“And you…” My father’s bloodshot eyes zero in on me. “You better make it to that Providence practice. Jensen said it’s pretty much a tryout, so don’t screw it up.” I’ve been silent for so long it takes me a moment to find my voice. “I won’t,” I say hoarsely.
quickly descend the porch steps and make my way to the truck. It’s still gloomy out. The trees are swaying ominously. The clouds are a thick, dark mass undulating overhead. The sky is more black than gray. And yet my future has never looked brighter.
No detail has gone un-oohed or un-aahed.
“A part of me keeps expecting security to show up and throw us out,” I whisper back. “I’ve never felt so out of place.” She laughs softly. “Me too. But I’m sure we’ll adjust.”
God, I adore Logan’s mom. She’s sweet and funny and so damn supportive of her sons.
“It’s so funny,” Hannah muses. “Garrett told me that he and Logan have talked about the two of them in Bruins jerseys ever since freshman year. And now it’s actually happening.” She smiles. “I guess some dreams really do come true.”
