Page 18 of Broken Love (Love 2)
I grab his face and kiss him, my desire amplified by his words. His fingertips dance across my skin, igniting a fire from the lust still smoldering inside of me.
November 2nd Pike
I get a call from Carter.
"So I packed up Bethany's belongings, rented her a storage unit, and moved everything there. She's staying in my hotel room, which means I am staying at your place. Hope that's okay. Rooms are in short supply, and my client's house is full of friends and relatives in for the game."
"You're very efficient," I say, impressed.
"It's not the first time I've had to deal with a jersey chaser, Pike. I know how to take care of my clients. It's what I do."
"Sounds like I need to be one of your clients. How did she take things?"
"She was outraged. They always are until you remind them that it's because they sucked someone else's dick. I also talked to Craig about it. The guys on the team look up to you. They think what he did was shitty, but the last thing the team needs when you're playing in the Series is discord. He was shit-faced. She followed him to his room, said the two of you broke up."
"That makes me feel better, at least."
"I thought it would. Now, the real question. If they make it back to L.A. for Game Six, are you going to be there? You've got to be getting tired of moping around the house."
"That's for fucking sure."
"I know both the team owner and coach have called you, but you haven't called back."
"I haven't called anyone back."
"Why?" he asks.
"I feel like a fucking failure."
"You're not a failure, Pike. You're injured. And you're still part of this team. Start acting like it. Support them. Encourage them. They are down one game to three. If L.A. wins tonight, it's over. So, I was thinking that I'd like to take you into the clubhouse tonight."
"How?"
As he explains, I smile. For the first time since I got injured, I'm truly excited about something.
Palmer
Light shines through the curtains, waking me. Snow is fluttering down from the sky like bits of confetti. And last night wasn't a dream. Our legs are tangled, his arm is over my shoulder, his lips pressed against my temple.
It's a glorious way to start the day.
I glide my fingertips across his forearm, causing him to murmur.
"Mhm," he says, slowly opening his eyes. "What do you say we hot tub this morning? Then you can jump out and make those snow angels you love."
"Naked?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Of course," he replies with a sexy smirk, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing it.
"Do you have any champagne?"
"For breakfast?"
"Why not?" I ask.
"Why not, indeed. You get the champagne. I'll start a fire and take the lid off the hot tub." He gives me a steamy kiss then says, "Don't take too long," and slaps my naked ass as I'm hopping out of bed.
I grab a bottle of champagne out of the wine cooler, find some orange juice, and grab a handful of bagels and a couple flutes.
The view from the deck is even more magnificent, with Cade taking center stage. There's a hint of stubble on his face, his hair is a mess, but his blue eyes are brighter than the morning sky. And the smile he gives me, if my hands weren't full, I'd put them both over my heart and try to stuff this moment into my soul.
He stands up to help empty my hands, but when he does, I practically gasp as his chest rises out of the water, and his abs come into view along with the V-line that leads down to one of the sources of my pleasure last night.
"Hurry," he says. "Aren't you cold?"
I had almost forgotten I was naked and standing outside in the snow. My body is heated simply by his smile--okay, and maybe a few other significant parts, too.
I hand him the bagels and glasses then climb into the tub, setting the bottles on the edge.
"It's a beautiful morning," I say as he pours us each a drink.
"It got even more beautiful the second you walked out on the deck. You look stunning."
I swat his arm playfully. "I know what I look like in the morning, Cade. Don't bullshit me."
"Your mascara is a tad smudged, but it just makes you look sexier. And your hair, it's total sex hair." He points to his own chest. "I made it that way."
"And that makes you proud?"
He pulls me onto his lap. "That makes me happy." He hands me my glass. "We should toast."
"To what?"
"Oh, wow. The list is long. Be prepared. This is going to take awhile." Because I'm sitting on him, there isn't much room between us for the flutes, so they are pressed against our chests. "To surprise blizzards. To your car sliding off the road. To my rescuing you. To dirty Scrabble. To wine. To not being able to sleep knowing you were so close to me. To you being in the hall. As a matter of fact, to the hall itself. To my new four-poster bed. To my soft sheets. To the way your skin feels pressed against mine. To the way you sound when you come. To multiple orgasms. To the way your lips feel when they're wrapped around my dick. How it feels to slide inside you. To rough, dirty fucking. To passionate, sweet love making. To waking up with you. To you naked. And really, mostly to how fucking happy you make me. Cheers."
I am blushing through most of it, but after taking of sip of champagne, I boldly tilt my hips upward, so we can be joined again.
"I need your cock inside me, now," I say with a laugh.
"Why are you laughing? That is not a laughing matter."
"Because when you asked me if there was anything I needed after being at the hospital, Tory told me that's how I should have answered."
"Fuck yeah," he says, kissing me again and slowly moving inside me. "That will always be the right answer."
I chug my drink and set it on the edge of the hot tub then run my hands through his beautiful hair. Sex last night took place mostly in the dark. Now, we are out in full daylight, our gazes locked, our feelings and bodies on full display. Thankfully, the hot tub is fairly secluded, but even if it weren't, I wouldn't care. He's my sole focus.
What starts out slow, quickly heats up, our bodies moving at a more frantic pace, both reaching for ecstasy.
"Damn, girl," Cade whispers against my neck when he climaxes and drops his head to my shoulder, kissing it.
"Getting too old to keep up with me?" I tease. "I mean, you're in your thirties now. You're getting to be an old man."
"I've always been an old man compared to you, Rookie," he teases.
"Are you too old for naked snow angels?"
"The ski trail goes right by the house. With all the powder, I'm sure it will be busy."
"Then a lot of skiers will see my naked ass making a snow angel." I stand up, hop out of the tub, and grab his hand. "Come with me, Cade."
He takes my hand and says, "Always."
I scream as we run through the snow on the deck, down the stairs, and to the backyard. He grabs me around the waist and tackles me into the snow. "Ahh! That's so cold!"
"I think it feels good. You keep getting me hot."
I pull away from him, quickly make a snow angel, and then run screaming back upstairs, the snow feeling so cold on my feet it almost burns. I start to ease into the hot tub, but Cade picks me up and carries me into the house, lying on top of me in front of the fire and then covering us with a blanket.
"It's my understanding that body heat is the most effective way to get warm."
"I'll bet it is," I agree, putting my lips against his chest.
After making love by the fire, we decide to go skiing. We can't let the perfect powder go to waste.
Pike
I prep for tonight like I'm actually playing in the game. Shower--well, a sink shower, shave, and put on a suit. Well, actually, I can't put on the suit pants, and I don't want to cut up the leg, so I put on shorts.
Then I decide I feel ridiculous.
I find the plastic bag from the hospital with my clothes in it and put on the shirt.
/> Then I get myself set up in front of the computer for the teleconference that will be beamed into the clubhouse.
When I see my teammates' faces in the locker room, I start speaking.
"I'll admit, many of you have called me, sent texts and well wishes, and I haven't replied to any of them. Because I felt like I let you all down. I felt like I failed. I was reminded today that I'm still part of this team, and that I need to start acting like it. I got hurt. Big fucking deal. We all get hurt at some point in our career. We suck it up, rehab, and keep going back out there. I was going to address you all in a suit, like I would before a normal game, but it didn't feel right. You'll notice I'm wearing the jersey I wore when I got hurt. It's dirty. Full of blood, sweat, and tears. And they are all mine. Look down at your jersey right now. Tonight those jerseys don't just represent your city. Your team. Your jersey represents the culmination of your career. The hours you've spent practicing and playing since you were a kid. The blood, sweat, and tears you've left on every ball field you've ever played on." I pause briefly, collecting myself.
"We're down three games to one, and I have just one more thing to say to you. Don't you fucking dare let them win the series in our house. You're coming back to L.A. for games six and seven, and I'm going to be in the dugout with you. And we're going to make everything these jerseys represent worth it."
My teammates look emotional then cheer and head out to the field.
And I feel like myself again.
Our team wins Game Five, and I am so incredibly pumped about it. The series is now two to three, meaning Tampa is coming back to L.A.
Cade
We get back from skiing, take a sexy shower, have fun making pasta together, and end up back in the hot tub. Honestly, my body needs it. It's gotten an extreme workout in the last twenty-four hours.
Not that I'm complaining.
I put my arm out, and Palmer snuggles into it, fitting perfectly as usual. That's one thing about us that always amazed me--how perfectly we fit together. I've been with a lot of women over the years, but no one has fit the way she does. Like we're two pieces split apart at birth who found their way back to each other. I wonder if that's what soul mates are. Some predestined pairing.
Now that the snowstorm is gone, the night is cloudless and there are a billion stars in the sky. While Palmer is stargazing, I'm Palmer-gazing. Just staring at her beautiful profile, the way her wet hair is curling around her face, the splay of lashes on her cheeks when she blinks, the rosiness of her high cheekbones.
"Ohmigosh, Cade! Look! A shooting star!"
"I see it!"
"I've never seen one before," she says.
"It's a sign," I tell her, caressing her arm.
"What do you mean?"
"We just had another first together. I want the rest of my firsts with you, Palmer."
She turns away from me.
