Page 109 of Desperate Pucker
That fluttery feeling in my stomach drifts up my chest, all the way to my heart.
When I was with Sergei, we didn’t wake up like this. I liked cuddling, but we never fell asleep that way. He always stuck to his side of the bed, and I always stuck to mine.
And when I woke up next to him, I never felt the way I do now. So content and comfortable.
That fluttery feeling burrows deeper inside of me. It feels a lot like joy. I’ve never had a friends-with-benefits situation before, so I’m not sure what it’s supposed to feel like…but Iwonder if it’s supposed to feel like this—better than when I was in a relationship.
Ryker stirs and mumbles something I can’t understand.
A second later, he stirs again. “Spaghetti sounds good to me.” His voice is rough and sleepy.
I hold back a laugh.
“Softer. Not too fuzzy though,” he mumbles.
Oh my gosh. This gruff and burly hockey player talks in his sleep, and it issodamn cute.
His breathing turns heavy and even, signaling he’s back in a deep sleep.
By now, my bladder is screaming at me, so I scoot out from under his massive arm and slide out of bed. I tap my phone screen and see that it’s just after seven in the morning.
I quietly pad to the bathroom, pee, wash my hands, and turn on the shower. While I’m waiting for the water to warm up, I catch a glimpse of my naked body in the mirror.
I study my figure, how it’s changed since I was a professional figure skater. I’m still fit. I can still see definition in my arms and stomach and legs. I’m softer now, though.
I take in the curve of my hips, turning to the side so I can see my ass. It’s a little bigger than it was. I’ve definitely gained a handful of pounds because I’m not starving myself or working out eight to ten hours a day like I used to.
In the past, when I noticed I had gained weight, I’d feel instant anxiety. My brain would run through a panic spiral, and I’d go into fix-it mode. I’d plan out extra workouts and think of all the food I’d cut out.
But the anxiety never comes. Instead, I feel happy. I smile at my reflection. I like the way I look. I’m a little softer. I have actual curves now. But I’m still strong. I can still skate well.
I think back to how Ryker goes wild for my body. I think about how he cooks for me, how he wants me to eat until I’msatisfied. I think about how he never, ever says anything critical about the way I look. I think about how hard he gets just looking at me.
I step into the shower and stand under the spray. The bathroom door creaks open. I look up and see Ryker walk in. His hair is messy from sleep, and his eyes are puffy. He scrubs a hand along the side of his face, eyeing my body. His sleepy gaze turns fiery.
“Morning,” he growls.
“Morning.”
He opens the sliding glass door and steps behind me. He rests his hands on my waist and pulls me against him, his hard dick bumping against my ass.
He drops a soft kiss to my shoulder and runs his thumb along the base of my spine. I shiver at how divine it feels.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask.
“Good. You?”
“I slept well too.”
He drags his mouth along the slope of my shoulder, all the way up the side of my neck. The soft heat of his tongue combined with the scratch of his beard sends goosebumps all over my body.
“Do you know you talk in your sleep?” I ask, my tone breathless.
His mouth stretches across my skin in a smile. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was cute.”
I sink into him. It’s like we’ve done this a million times before. His touch is so confident and sure, and my body responds instantly. I’m comfortable and aroused, my body tight and aching with need.
