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“What?” I ask, not sure if I heard him right. Because I swear to God, Oakley, who might be the most top guy I’ve ever met, just asked me to— “Fuck me, Quinn.”
“Oh, my fuck,” I murmur. “You’re gonna kill me by the end of this.”
“Fuck, baby, look at you. You take my cock so well,” I murmur, watching as he impales himself on my length. The sight alone is so erotic, it’ll probably live rent-free in my head for the rest of my damn life.
“You’ve just given me keys to a goddamn kingdom,” I whisper against his lips. “You know that, right?” A husky laugh comes from him. “Don’t be getting any ideas.”
“Then what do you care about?” “You! I fucking care about you, or I wouldn’t be here right now just to make sure you’re okay.”
He nods, his nose bumping mine when he does. “You were…amazing, Quinn.” I hug him more, tighter and closer than I have in weeks. And it’s the first time in those weeks I’ve actually felt…whole. What the fuck is that except— “I love you too,” I say, bringing my mouth to his ear. “I love you so fucking much.”
“Did you just kiss me on national television?” he whispers against my lips. I nod. “You were still trying to apologize. I had to shut you up.” And then I kiss him again.
“Well, I am the best boyfriend you’ll ever have.” “Willing to place bets on that, Reed? Maybe you need to put your money where your mouth is.”
“You caught me,” he pants, breathless. “Now what are you gonna do with me?” “Always fucking testing me,” I growl before fusing my mouth to his.
“Have I told you I love you today?”
“You,” I say through gritted teeth, spinning him in a circle before setting him back on his feet, “are in so much fucking trouble.”
And I’ve gained the greatest teammate I could’ve ever asked for. On the ice, sure, there’s no one better. But it’s off the ice when it counts most, something he’s shown me every single day since we left Chicago for New Jersey.
“Oakley Reed, will you be my teammate again?”
