Page 131 of Cross the Line
But how do I show him?
I wish I were more like Finley. That I could open myself to him like one of his beloved books. So that I could be as black and white to him as the stories he loves.
“I told you, I want to be here,” is all I say while he watches the last pucks fly.
“I know. I’m sorry, it was a poor joke,” he murmurs, stepping back when a shot pings the post and skitters toward his feet. He chuffs, “Guess we don’t have to worry about breaking the ice.”
A laugh slips out. I sweep a stray puck aside and find him smiling—soft, serene. For a second, I exist inside that smile. The noise hushes; it’s just us on the frozen lake.
“You want to talk?” he asks, threading our fingers.
I shake my head, but my mouth betrays me anyway. “I can’t win, Jayden.”
Squeezing his hand in mine, I glance down his body, noting that he’s only wearing his onesie again.
His feet are already big, but the bulky rubber soles make them appear bigger. Sturdy. Enough to hold him up, no matter how heavy the weight of the chaos surrounding us becomes.
“Well, from the shots I saw you take, I know that’s not true.” He’s disarming me, and I let him.
I need him to center me.
“How long were you watching?” I meet his stare as his other hand closes over mine on the stick.
Jayden’s so devastatingly gorgeous that my breath catches in my throat.
He rests his chin on our wrapped fists. “Long enough.”
Everything about him is lazy and relaxed. His ease seeps through his touch, deep into my bones with the unhurried lick of his lips.
My mouth instantly dries, thirsty for a taste of him. My feet shuffle closer, the blade caged between our toes. “You must be freezing…” I breathe across his lips to warm them.
They tip up in a smirk. “Not really. Watching you handle those pucks, owning the shots, bossing that goal… kept me nice and toasty, Sweetheart.”
His announcer voice makes me laugh—and that’s when he kisses me. Bringing our joined hands to his chest, he drinks down my laughter-turned-groans. Circling his tongue with mine leisurely until I whimper.
I don’t want slow or soft. I need him to devour me, consume my senses. From the burn of his stubble to the bite of his teeth.
We brace the stick on the ice as we shuffle to the snowbank, and then forget it entirely. My hand fists his jaw; his tunnels into my hair with just enough tug to make my body sigh.
Fuck, yes.
We stumble inside, toeing off shoes when we make it through the door. The warm air tingles over my skin, making it more sensitive to his touch and his ravenous mouth as he laps up my jaw to nip my ear.
Jayden pushes my jacket off my shoulders before we trip and stumble up the stairs, and then crash into his room.
It’s the first time all evening I laugh as we fall inside and he pushes the door shut. Without pause, Jayden pins me to it, his groin throbbing against mine.
Every seed of thought disappears when he rakes his teeth down my neck to my collarbone. Our hands busy themselves, pulling and yanking and unzipping through the layers of clothing between us.
Jayden’s palms plant on either side of my head as his forehead rests on mine. Hazel eyes locking on my dark stare. The golden flecks are all but eaten up by his pupils.
“What do you need, Eli?”
Him.
I don’t know what that means, but it’s what I need right now. To make him feel good so that I’m not a complete failure. So I know that I can be what they need. What he needs.
“What do you want?” Jayden husks over my kiss-swollen lips.
