Page 88 of Hat Trick

Wowza, wowza,wowza.

Shoulders bunching, he shifts his angle, hitting me justthere.

“Yes.” My fingers dig into his thighs, delighting in every thrust of his hips. “Please don’tstop.”

“Never,” he growls, dropping his elbows to either side of my head so that he covers me fully. His chest meets mine, his breath whispering against my forehead. “I’m yours, Gwen.” He pulls out, nearly leaving me, before pumping back in sharply. “Always,” he promises, “for as long as you’ll haveme.”

My hands tangle around his shoulders, and I kiss wherever I can reach. His forehead, his nose, his lips. “Forever. I’ll have youforever.”

“Good.”

He reaches down between our bodies, flicking his finger against myclit.

That one touch pushes me over the edge, sending me straight over. My thighs lock around his waist, unwilling to let him go. He never pauses, drawing out my orgasm as he keeps pace, working my clit until I come for a second (miraculous) time. Only then does he unlock my legs and push my knees up to my chest so that I’m his for thetaking.

His mouth flattens, twisting in a way that turns his pretty-boy features into something darker, for me only, and then he comes with a low groan that I will never tire ofhearing.

My head drops back against the rug as Marshall’s body collapses on mine. “You’ve killed me,” I mutter, tracing his spine with myfingers.

“You love me,” he returns. “I love you,too.”

Warmth spreads in my chest, and I hug him tight. “I love you, Marshall. I love you somuch.”

“You better.” He presses a kiss to my mouth, then reaches for something on the coffee table. “Here, it’s atradition.”

I glance up to see a blueberry pie in his hand. Laughter bubbles out of me. “Youdidn’t.”

He grins wickedly, though his gray eyes are so full of love. “Trust me, Idid.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you near me with that thing.” I scoot back, pushing him off so that I can scramble up to my feet. “The only way I’ll let you come close to me with that pie is if it’s on aplate.”

“Aw, honey,” he rumbles, stalking me down. “I just want my two favorite things. My girl and mypie.”

I skip out of reach, knowing he loves the chase. Our laughter echoes in my apartment as I swipe his Christmas hat off the kitchen countertop and then take its place. My feet dangle against the side of the cupboards as I watch Marshall swagger past Fake Gwen and Fake Marshall and our fake little dog. His gaze is on me alone, and I love every second ofit.

He dips one finger into the pie and licks it right off, giving a fake moan. “So good,” he growls, “are you sure you don’t wantany?”

I take in his tattooed arms and his rock-hard body that’s been put through the test during hours of practice and brutal hits. “I just want you,” I tellhim.

The final two feet between us disappear as he sets the pie down on the counter and lowers his face for a kiss. “I’ll take it,” he says, “and just so you’re aware, I plan to score a hat trick tonight, honey. I hope you’re ready forit.”

I cup his jaw, taking in the man I love more than I ever thought possible, and touch my lips tohis.

And then I dig my hand into the pie and spread it all across hischest.

Because what’s love without a littlemess?

TheEnd.