Page 71 of Stroke of Fate

“Fine, I’ll behave,” I promise, resting my hands on her shin. “What was the question again?”

“What do you do to prevent injuries?”

“Um.” I exhale a deep breath, forcing myself not to stroke her soft skin and lose my train of thought. “We have individualized warm-up routines to iron out any kinks.”

“Like your shoulder?” Bears murmurs, her golden hair creating a curtain around her face as she writes down my answer.

She remembers. I told her about my pinched nerve weeks ago, and she remembered. My chest squeezes at her recollection. The feeling is oddly comforting.

“Yeah, like my shoulder,” I reply. “And uh, lots of dry land training to strengthen our muscles. One day a week, we focus solely on improving our technique to prevent further strain. Then, there are the massages we have access to.” I add, filling her in on everything I can think of off the top of my head.

Under my hands, Bear stiffens slightly and glances up, pen hovering in the air, blue eyes flashing with something sharp.

“I didn’t know the team had access to a masseuse.” Her tone is laced with a fiery attitude.

A sick part of me loves Bear’s jealous streak. That same part of me relishes the thought of her not wanting someone else’s hands on me. It’s like a neon sign flashing:She cares. And somehow, that makes me feel like the lucky one.

“Oh yeah, great person. Really knows how to work magic with their hands.” I sigh like the memory is fresh in my mind.

Bear’s nose crinkles in that adorable way it does when she’s holding back from saying exactly what she wants.

Truth is, I haven’t had a massage in months. I avoid Declan’s calloused man-hands at all costs because that shit hurts more than it relaxes me.

“But I believe the correct term is a ‘masseur.’ And although I’ve never seen it, I’m pretty sure Declan has a dick underneath his uniform.” My lips twitch as I watch Bear’s reaction.

Her cheeks tinge a light pink, and I snigger.

“Oh my God, you’re an asshole.” She groans, throwing the pen at me.

I don’t even flinch as it bounces off my chest and onto the floor.

“Kinda sounded like you were jealous, Teddy Bear.”

“Was not,” she mumbles, avoiding my eyes as she busies herself with closing her notebook and setting it on the ottoman.

But when she turns back to me, a melancholy expression has taken over her beautiful features.

In one swift movement, I pull her toward me. Her skirt bunches around her waist as she straddles me.

“Hey.” I gently cup her face between my hands. “I was kidding. I mean, I can get massages, but I swear Declan is a guy.”

“I know it’s just…” Bear's eyes drift to a vacant spot over my shoulder as if lost in a memory I'm not privy to. She blinks slowly, and when her gaze returns to mine, her eyes seem brighter. The tightness in my chest loosens.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” she mummers before lowering her lips to mine.

I should ask her to explain. Tell me what place she went to just now, but I’m too distracted by her tongue tangling withmine, her sweet fruity scent, and how her hips are grinding into my already hard dick.

My hands run up the back of her thighs, cupping her ass cheeks. I squeeze them, swallowing up her moan.

When my fingers brush the front of her underwear, Bear bucks her hips up in a silent invitation. I slip a finger beneath the lacy fabric, and the smooth skin of her pussy greets me.

“So, wet and needy for me.” I grit out.

A soft cry laced with need spills from her lips—music to my ears.

Fisting her hair with one hand, I pull her lips back onto mine as I slowly inch two fingers inside her. I’ve barely gotten to the knuckle when the doorbell rings.

My first instinct is to ignore it, but the ringing starts again the second it stops.

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