Page 76 of Hat Trick

“I’ve seen you without your prosthetic before.” I rest my hand on his right thigh, the metal of his leg hard against my palm. “And you’re beautiful. I want you to know that.”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “We’re going to have to get creative here. I didn’t have a chance to look up the best sex positions for people who are missing limbs.”

I stifle a giggle, but he laughs too. This all feels so normal, something we’ve done a hundred times, and the realization makes my stomach swoop low.

“Do you think there’s a website for that?” I ask.

“There’s definitely a Reddit thread somewhere.”

“People on the internet are very knowledgeable.”

“I’m thinking—” He stops to lick his lips and look at my body again. He takes my nipple between his fingers, twisting it and smiling when I hiss. “You on top. Riding me. That doesn’t involve the muscles in my lower body.”

“I like that idea. Do you want help taking your pants all the way off or?—”

“I can do it.”

Riley squeezes my waist and we adjust our positions so he can swing his legs over the side of the bed. He grunts when he shimmies his sweatpants off and I crawl over so I can kiss his shoulders. So I can wrap my arms around him and skate my hands down his body, my fingers aching to feel him.

I’ve never been one for physical touch or cuddling after sex, but it’s different with Riley. It’s like I can’t get enough of him, and when he’s finally naked and looks back at me, I want him in every way I can have him.

“Get on the bed,” I say, and his smile hitches wide.

“I like when you’re bossy.” It takes him a beat to stretch out on the mattress, but when he does, his hand slips into mine. He strokes his thumb over my knuckles and tugs me toward him. “C’mere.”

“I want to look first.”

“You’ve seen my body.”

“I haven’t seen you likethis. It’s different when we’re not at the arena. Can I?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “You can.”

I look at his tattoo and the hair on his stomach. At the faint scars and muscles that are weaker on the right side of his body. I travel lower to his cock standing tall, then to his legs. I study the prosthetic I’ve seen before and his foot, mesmerized by every inch of him.

He’s perfect.

“You said you wanted me on top?” I ask, and he nods again, quicker this time.

“I would’ve picked that position even if I could move around however I wanted. I know I finished the first time, but I don’t know what my body is capable of during round two. I might not?—”

“That’s okay. We’ll try together and figure it out.”

“There’s, um, a condom in my wallet. On the dresser under the television.”

“Were you planning to get lucky tonight, Mitchy?”

“God, no. This is a fever dream. Ethan brought a box to the arena a week ago and threw them around the locker room. I didn’t want the custodians to have to clean them up, so I found one the guys forgot to grab and shoved it in my wallet. I forgot about it until now.”

“Look at that divine intervention.” I hop off the bed and hurry to the dresser, opening his wallet. A small photo falls out, and I pick it up. “What’s this?”

“The team picture from last year. I like to remember the good days.”

“Is today not a good day?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Today is the best day I’ve had in months,” he says. “By a longshot.”

“We should make a point to say which days are good.” I tuck the photo back in its place and pluck the foil packet from behind a twenty-dollar bill. “So you don’t forget.”

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