Page 130 of Slap Shot

“Do you?” I keep circling and reach my other hand up, back under her shirt. I pull the cup of her bra down and roll her nipple between my fingers. “Doesn’t seem like you do.”

“I don’t.” She licks her lips. “How could I when you’re making me feel like I’m on top of the world?”

“We can do better than that. I want to make you see the fucking stars, Golden Girl.”

I’m leaking in my briefs, certain I’ve never been this turned on. I stop touching her chest only so I can palm myself over my sweatpants. So I can give myself the hint of relief by thrusting my hips against my hand, stopping before I can savor it for too long.

I lean forward and kiss her thigh. I drag my tongue up her leg and use my teeth to tug the waistband of her underwear down half an inch so I can kiss her hip bone at the same time I use two fingers to circle her.

Madeline cries out. She holds my shoulder and claws at my neck again.

Am I wrong for being excited to show off the scratches? Am I allowed to be smug at morning skate tomorrow and let my teammates see?

“That’s—I like that?—”

I push up on my knees, dipping my chin and kissing her stomach. “Are you going to come for me, Maddie?”

I slow the circle my fingers are making until Madeline lifts her ass off the counter. My name turns into a rough and low moan that echoes around us when she comes undone, and it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.

I give in to my moment of weakness—hell, mymonthsof weakness—and shove my hand down my pants. I stroke myself and drop my head against her knee as my warm release covers my palm.

“Holy shit,” I curse when I regain control of my body. “Are you?—”

Her ankles wrap around my neck. I stutter out a groan, ready and willing to become a permanent resident between her legs.

“That was…” Madeline grins. “Yeah.”

“I think we corrupted my kitchen.” I glance up at her pink cheeks and messy hair. “Not sure I can look at this counter the same way after that.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“Neither am I.”

“Did you…” Her eyes flick to my sweatpants. “In your?—”

“Come in my pants? Oh, yeah. It’s everywhere. Halfway down my leg. Probably on my foot. The social media commentswould have a field day with me. The NHL player who can’t last? The jokes write themselves.”

“I don’t care how long you last.” Madeline puts her finger under my chin, lifting my head so our gazes meet. “My sample size isverysmall, but no one’s ever wanted me in a way where they lose control.”

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

I want her again in an hour and in a month down the road.

I want her body and her soul, and I’d get on my knees and beg until I had them.

“Happy to break the streak for you, KG.”

She laughs, and there’s not an ounce of tension between us. It’s perfectly normal, like we’ve done this together a hundred times.

“I’m not going to hide from you, Hudson.” She tugs on my shirt and helps me to my feet. I almost stumble, feeling off-balance and thoroughly satisfied. “I promise.”

I hold up my hand, smiling when she wraps her pinky around mine. “I’m not going to run from you either.”

Madeline looks at her jeans on the floor and laughs again. “I can’t believe we did that. We have two bedrooms, and we picked the kitchen? We’re animals.”

“Any regrets?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “None. You?”

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