Page 20 of Slap Shot Kisses

We rush inside, and Harper turns to me and just drops her bag, looking up at me like I’m her whole damn world. I can’t even breathe right. I scoop her up, kissing her again, slamming the door with my foot as I carry her straight to her bed.

There’s nothing gentle about how I make love to her. It’s pure, messy, need-you-so-bad-it’s-stupid. We’re all tangled limbs and sweat and whispered confessions. I never slow down. Not once. Not when her nails drag down my back. Not when she calls my name, a broken prayer. We finally collapse, skin hot and sticky, her voice still echoing in my skull. I hold her tight, refusing to let her go, even as her breathing slows, and she drifts off to sleep wrapped up in my arms.

She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts. It physically hurts to think about dragging my ass out of her bed and leaving her like this, all soft and trusting and exhausted from my loving. I bury my face in her hair and just breathe her in. The woman is single-handedly fucking up every plan I’ve ever had in my life, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

When my alarm blares, I roll out of bed, leaving her asleep with the blankets twisted around her curves. It kills me to peel myself away, but I’ve got a practice to get to. It kills me knowing my girl is curled up in bed, wearing nothing but a smile and a bruise in the shape of my mouth on her thigh while I deal with assholes on the ice.

The drive to the arena is all muscle memory at this point. I chug a protein shake on the way, texting her a stupid meme about exhausted goats. Because that’s what we do now. We send each other memes and dirty texts like we’re in a damn high school romance.

Practice is a blur of sweat and shouting and guys slamming into each other, but nothing touches the high I get from seeing Harper smile. I’m obsessed. Addicted. No going back now. She already owns my fucking heart, and I don’t want it any other way.

By the time I’m getting out of practice, she’s getting ready for work. Since I’m leaving early tomorrow morning for three games, she drives herself to work.

Without seeing her, even for just a few minutes, I’m out of sorts. I end up working out until my muscles burn. After a quick shower, I drop into bed exhausted but wide awake. I don’t sleep a fucking wink. I spend the night pacing the living room, watching the lights of Seattle twinkle like distant, unreachable stars. Fuck. I can’t keep going like this. I need her with me.

The next few days are a blur of practices and grueling games. I find myself doing things I never would have done a month ago. I send her flowers and have them delivered to her door early one morning. I send her texts in the middle of the night just to make sure she’s thinking about me. We spend each morning on the phone for at least an hour before she heads to bed. I’m becoming a man I don’t recognize, and the terrifying part is that I like him better than the one I spent a decade building.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JAXSON

When I finally get home from the road trip, I don’t waste a moment getting to her. I skip all the bullshit and drive straight to her apartment. Don’t care that I haven’t slept in goddamn days or that my body feels like I took a sledgehammer to every joint. I need to see her. I need my firecracker in my arms, in my lap, and under me. Preferably all at the same time.

She answers the door in leggings and a faded T-shirt, still yawning, hair everywhere, feet bare. I’m pretty sure I actually groan when I see her. Like, fuck me, how is she this cute after working a thousand hours in the ER? My sweet girl blinks up at me and then just melts, right there, like her bones can’t even hold her up. I know the feeling.

“Thought you’d never get here,” she mumbles, pulling me inside and locking the door behind us.

“The drive took too goddamn long.” I lift her right off the floor and smash my mouth to hers. Nothing gentle about it. This is pure fucking starvation. Three days without her is three days too long, and I’m done pretending I’m capable of moderation.

She melts into me, legs wrapping around my waist, arms around my neck. I haul her straight to the bedroom and toss her onto the bed so I can spend a second just staring at her, taking in that wrecked expression and the way she’s looking at me like I’m water in the damn desert.

“You’re staring,” she breathes, eyes hot, and grins like she knows exactly what she’s doing to my self-control.

“Can’t help myself. You’re perfect.”

She laughs, the sound pure trouble, then tugs her shirt off and tosses it across the room. “Shut up and get over here.”

I tear my own shirt off, then my pants and boxers hit the floor a few seconds later. She’s sprawled out on the bed, all long legs and narrow hips and the softest fucking skin I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart detonates while all the blood in my body flows straight to my cock.

“Don’t move,” I grit out. The view is so fucking perfect, and I want to remember this. Harper, minus the attitude, flushed and rumpled and giving me the look that turns my brain inside out. Jesus.

She pouts. “If you don’t get over here, I’m going to start without you.”

“Not a chance, firecracker.” I crawl up the bed, every muscle in my body straining toward her. My cock is already begging for the main event, but I take my time. I start at her ankle, kissing up and up, catching her knee with my teeth just to hear that squeak I like. I can see she’s got goosebumps all over, and I love knowing I did that to her.

“Hurry up. We have five days to make up for,” she mutters. I hook my hand around the back of her knee and drag her closer, so I can run my mouth up her thigh and breathe her in. Fuck, I could die happy right here.

“I’m taking my time with you. Deal with it.” I nip the soft skin, and she yelps, her legs already squeezing me like she’s trying to trap me in bed forever. If that’s her plan, I’m one hundred percent on board.

I keep going, kissing up her thigh, slow as hell, just to tease her. The little shiver she gives almost makes me lose my mind. When I get close to where she’s dripping for me, I breathe her in and swear under my breath.

“Jaxson,” she says, all breathy and bossy at the same time. “Don’t make me kick your ass.”

That does it. I groan and hook my arms under her knees, spreading her wide. “Patience, firecracker.” My tongue finds her clit, slow and deliberate, and fuck me, she tastes like heaven. Her back arches right off the bed.

“Fuck patience.” Her dirty words go straight to my cock. Every instinct I have is about giving her more. She runs her fingers through my hair and holds me exactly where she wants me.

Her hips start moving, chasing my tongue. I suck her clit just long enough to make her curse, then I slide two fingers inside and press up, searching for that spot that’ll break her open. I’m a fucking maniac for her. I want to spend the rest of my life right here.