Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I'm still trying to collect my bearings, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the notorious and confident Lawson Wolfe is restraining himself from fucking me because he wants our first time to be somewhere more intimate.
I can barely wrap my head around what that means, let alone what he just did to my body.
Because I may be able to give myself a good release, much better than my ex ever could, but what Lawson just did?
It was earth shattering.
It was addicting.
And that made it terrifying.
“What do we do now then?” I ask.
Lawson smiles and plants an almost sweet kiss against my lips as he gently helps me off the desk. He draws back, smoothing my hair where his hands tangled it, and gives me a quick look over.
“Now we go back to dancing,” he says, and guides me discreetly out of Clay's office, and back to the dance floor as if we’d never left.
As if he could sense that I was not ready to take that next step, mentally anyway. My body is more than ready to let him in all the way. Somehow, he’s smart enough for the both of us, and it makes me melt for him just a little bit more.
CHAPTER 9
LAWSON
Crack! The puck is live, and my muscles are on fire, the Bruins not pulling any punches for our first preseason game. We’re in the last period. Tied up. Sweat gathers on my brow beneath my helmet, but I’m explosive off my start, soaring across the ice with a laser focus.
The Bruins manage to get the puck, and I make sure to get right in the puck handler’s way, reading his actions a microsecond before he goes to pass it to his teammate. I intercept the puck, flying across the ice in the opposite direction, looking left and right for my teammates.
Nash is in prime position, so I send the puck gliding his direction, and it hits his stick perfectly without him missing a beat. Our defense is already clearing a path for him, and he makes a shot with only ten seconds left in the game. The puck breezes past the goalie, hitting the net and making the crowd go wild.
I immediately skate over to Nash, chest bumping him as the rest of our teammates celebrate too.
I quickly look to the stands, finding Blakely where I clocked her at the beginning of the game.
She's on her feet and cheering, looking sexy as hell in the Badgers’ black and yellow.
My heart swells in my chest, pride rippling along every inch of my body at the smile on her face. And sure, she’s coached every single player on the ice so she's happy for her team, but she’s looking directly at me.
I point at her, silently sending credit her way. We all skated faster than we had a month ago, and we owe that to her.
Are there some kinks we still need to work out with the team? Absolutely.
But we're heading to the locker rooms with a win under our belt and it's only the first preseason game.
Coach says as much in a fifteen-minute speech that covers everything from pride to motivation, before sending us off to the showers. We all hurry through the process, knowing a victory celebration is due.
I'm a bit bummed to not find Blakely waiting for me outside of the locker room, but maybe she's already headed to The Queen’s Rum knowing that we'll all be celebrating there.
It's a quick drive from our home arena, and as I and half the team walk through the doors, flooding the establishment with patrons, I scan those who are already here.
No sign of Blakely.
My shoulders drop, disappointment shooting through me.
It’s been three weeks since Kiplin’s party. Three weeks since Blakely let me take care of her in a way that’s appeared in my dreams every single night since.
I haven't been able to get her out of my head, and it’s taken every ounce of willpower I possess not to cross any lines during our private lessons or when I saw her at regular practice.
She kept things friendly enough, engaging in our normal back-and-forth banter, which don't get me wrong, I absolutely live for. But we’ve both been so ridiculously busy there hasn’t been any time for bodyguard missions, let alone anything else.
I was hoping tonight would be the night to break that streak, but even after I've sat with the guys for a good half hour, there’s still no sign of her.
“I thought you were going to take that last shot for yourself,” Nash says from where he sits to my right.
“You were primed to take it for yourself,” Pax adds from the other side of the table.
Kiplin sits next to him, only giving a nod to the players who pass our table or grunting at anything I have to say.