Yeah, this was going to be a good Thanksgiving.
It already was.
Chapter 17—Shutout
Brick had never been a cuddler. He’d been more of a one-and-done kind of guy. Get an orgasm—or two or three—and get out while the getting was good. He did not cuddle. He did foreplay and intercourse.
Tonight he was cuddling and enjoying every fucking second of it.
All felt right with his world. They’d had a great Thanksgiving. Macy was calling him Daddy, and Amelia was all the woman he wanted right now.
Of course, he hadn’t a clue if it’d last, but he couldn’t help enjoying the experience. He’d even started wondering why he felt so strongly that this life had to end. What if it didn’t? What if he could be a dependable father and boyfriend? What if he preferred it?
Maybe his stepmother had been wrong. He didn’t have to succumb to the self-fulfilling prophecy. He could be a success off the ice. He didn’t have to buy into the failure she claimed he’d be because his grades had sucked and he never took life seriously. He didn’t have to party to have good friends. In fact, the people he partied with weren’t really friends, except Rush, who stuck around regardless. Maybe he was lovable. Maybe he could be dependable and responsible.
Damn heady stuff, and frightening as hell. It was one thing to worry about giving a nameless woman an orgasm. It was another to give a special woman his heart. Yet he’d opened that door a crack, and these two females sleeping under his roof had squeezed their way past his carefully constructed defenses and wiggled their way inside.
He buried his nose in Amelia’s hair, breathing in her heady scent. He kissed her hair and felt her smile against his shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes radiant. He smiled back, not just with his mouth but with his whole body, his mind, and his soul.
“You are incredible,” she said.
“Of course.”
She swatted at his arm. “Your ego is growing faster than Pinocchio’s nose.”
“That’s not all that’s growing.” He rubbed his erection against her crotch.
She giggled and pressed up against him. “I had a great time today. The Parkers are incomparable hosts.”
“Yeah, they are.” He’d have agreed with anything at this point. If she’d said hockey was played with a bat and ball, he’d have found a way to make it so.
“Good food. Good company.”
“Good booze.”
“That, too.”
Her plump lips begged to be kissed, and he was powerless to resist her. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him and pulling her across his chest. She gladly took her cue and placed one shapely leg on the other side of his hips, straddling him. Her wet core pressed against his hard dick. The poor deprived fellow jerked with anticipation, and so did Brick. His entire body twitch. Those heavenly breasts rubbed against the hair on his chest, and her tresses brushed across his nipples. She splayed her fingers on his chest and rose up, which pressed her pussy more firmly against his increasingly aroused dick.
“Baby, you’re killing me.” He groaned and palmed her ass with his big hands.
“That’s the idea.” Her sultry voice made him even harder.
“Oh, man. I have to be inside you.” He glanced around. “I need a condom.”
“Actually, you don’t.” The flicker of profound sadness in her eyes gave him pause, despite their current position.
“I don’t? Are you on birth control?” He treaded lightly, every instinct he possessed warning him that he was dealing with an unstable powder keg of emotions.
“You could say that.” The hollowness in her voice rang in his ears and permeated past his preference for avoidance when it came to women revealing some tragic component of their lives. He’d always used sex as a way to evade difficult discussions and revelations of truths he’d rather not know. Not this time.
He wanted to know Amelia’s truths. He wanted to know everything about her.
That was a first for him.
He hadn’t a clue how to deal with all this new shit in his life, especially his reactions to it. They were foreign, yet familiar; alarming, yet comforting; and dreaded, yet anticipated.
“What do you mean?” He spoke before he could think and was glad he had.
“Trust me when I tell you I won’t get pregnant.”
“I want to know.”
“I had problems with a pregnancy. I lost the baby. I won’t be getting pregnant again.”
He listened quietly, absorbing the tale she told him about her ex-husband who was never her husband and her stillborn baby. He held her tight as she spoke, absorbing her pain as best he could. His heart broke for her as she told of her little boy she’d never been able to hold. His temper flared to white-hot anger toward Darrell, the man she’d given her heart to when he had no right to take it.
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
She buried her head in his chest. Her body shaking with sobs. He held her, not knowing what else to do or say and hoping what little he could offer was enough. Brick would absorb her pain if he could, slay her dragons, shed light on her fears. He held her a long time, murmuring words of endearment, words he’d used in the past for the effect they’d have rather than the sincerity of saying them. This time he meant them, every single I’m sorry, I adore you, I want to make it better, it’ll be all right, I’m here for you…
After a time, the sobs subsided to muffled sniffles. Amelia raised her head, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, and met his gaze. He wiped away the last of her tears with the pad of his thumb.
“Thank you for listening. That means a lot.” She sniffled into his chest, her tears mingling with the sweat caused by the heat of his body.
“Is that why you’re majoring in child studies?”
“I want to help kids.”
His heart squeezed tight, cutting off his ability to speak. No wonder she’d gotten so mad at him—the asshole who didn’t want the one thing she craved—a child. Surely there were things science could do so she could have another child? Fertility drugs, stuff like that. Unless there was more to it. He didn’t know what, but he was certain she was holding back part of the story. He could be patient. All would be revealed in good time.
He couldn’t stem the flow of emotions coursing through him, so he expressed them the best way he knew how. He didn’t want to have sex with her—he wanted to make love to her.
He rolled them both over so she was on the bottom. She blinked up at him with tearstained cheeks and pain in her eyes. He’d make that pain go away, at least for a while. Cradling her head between his hands, he kissed the tears from her cheeks. She smiled up at him with what could have been love in her eyes. No one had ever looked at him like that before. He heard a crack—the sound of the protective armor around his heart cracking open.
The weird thing was, he didn’t give a shit.
Maybe he would in the morning.
Maybe he wouldn’t.
Brick kissed his way around her neck, down her collarbones, and licked a path to the cleavage between her breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue lazily around the tight nub. His fingers toyed with the other nipple.
Amelia whimpered and arched into him, putty in his hands. He’d had women in this position before, but never did he feel such a need to be everything to them beyond the physical. Her enticing body writhed under him, begging for him to end the foreplay and start the main show. He took his time. Sexual torment led to mind-blowing orgasms. He left her breasts and traveled farther south, his lips and tongue discovering every nook and cranny. She clutched his shoulders as he sank lower. Her legs spread open, inviting him to do as he wished.
So he did. He parted her wet folds and slid his tongue along her slit. Finding the source of her wetness, he pushed his tongue inside as deep as it would go. He worked in a circular motion, first one way, then the other. She buried her fingers in his hair in an attempt to force his tongue deeper, only it was as deep as it would go. But there w
as another part of him that would go a helluva lot deeper.
He pushed a finger inside her, giving his tongue a little assistance. He curled his finger upward, pressing against her slick wall.
“Oh God, you’re killing me.” She wrapped her legs around his shoulders and arched her hips.
Brick pushed another finger inside her and slid his tongue up to her clit, circling it in slow, erotic strokes. He worked his fingers in and out as he teased her clit. He could feel the tremble building inside her to a shudder and then an explosion. He let her explode, leaving his mouth on her pussy and reveling in the orgasm vibrating through her body into his.
His cock ached with desire. Shit, he was going to come if he didn’t get a handle on himself. He waited for her orgasm to subside, giving himself time to gain control over his own rampaging libido. Tonight was about slow and gentle, not fast and furious.
When she was finally limp and still, he slid back up her body, forgoing the condom.
“I’m clean. I promise. I test regularly and have never had sex without a condom.” He responded to her quick look of surprise.
“So am I.” She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him as if she were starving. He loved a greedy woman. He’d just sated her, and a few minutes later she was demanding more.
He pushed into her, taking it slow, and luxuriating in the feeling of her wetness against his skin. He was in a heaven like no other. He couldn’t imagine winning the Cup felt as good as their two bodies bound together. It was more than the physical, but he didn’t want to think about that right now.
Or ever.
Hell if he knew.
“Live in the moment” had always been his motto.
He pushed deeper, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her heels were anchored in the small of his broad back.
“Fuck me.” She gasped and cried out as he seated himself deep inside.
“No, not this time. This is not fucking.”
Her sharp intake of breath warned him he might have crossed his own invisible line. Right now, he didn’t care, because nothing mattered but her.
His thrusts were slow and deliberate as he ignored his body’s urging to go faster. He caught her mouth in his and kissed her, mimicking the movements of his lower body. In and out. Slow. Erotic. Hypnotic.
She demanded a piece of him that he’d never get back, and he was giving it to her without reservations. His orgasm rolled over him, stronger than a rogue wave, pulling him under, robbing him of his breath and his sanity. He shouted her name at the same time she shouted his. They were one body, one mind, one soul, and there was no turning back.
* * * *
Amelia’s heart warmed like a cozy fire on a cold winter night, and hope lit up her darkest parts.
She snuggled next to Brick’s warm chest and sighed happily, still floating in a soft cloud of subdued ecstasy. Brick couldn’t have been better. Something had changed tonight, and she hoped against hope she wasn’t reading too much into it. Brick’s lovemaking had been different. More tender. More spontaneous. More emotional. He was a skilled and practiced lover, but this was an entirely new level. He’d given her a piece of himself she doubted he’d ever given anyone else.
Brick rolled onto his back and tucked her to his side. He cleared his throat, putting Amelia instantly on alert. Fear sliced through her as if someone had opened a window and let cold air into that cozy room.
“I have a confession, and you’re not going to like me much once I tell you.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.” Amelia wrenched herself from his arms and sat up in bed. She wrapped a sheet around her, dread drowning out the good feelings.
“My mom and I talked a week or two ago. She’s agreed to take Macy and give her a home. The kind of home I can’t give her.”
“But you were getting along so well. Finally making progress.” Amelia searched his dark eyes for an answer, a hint of doubt, but couldn’t make out enough of his expression in the darkened room.
“Yeah, I know. She’ll be loved and cared for.”
“But she wouldn’t be here with us—with you?”
He shrugged, oddly evasive, and she sensed how torn he was.
“When is she coming?”
He shrugged again. “Not sure. Maybe around the first.”
Amelia swallowed hard and shivered, suddenly frozen to the core, even as her stomach churned from the news. She got out of bed and threw on a terry cloth robe. She walked outside onto the deck, needing some air despite being cold. She heard Brick’s footsteps. A few moments later, he was beside her, naked except for a pair of boxers. He put an arm around her and buried his face in her hair. They stood like that for a long time. The silence was broken by a wailing siren in the distance. Amelia could make out the flashing red lights of the emergency responders’ vehicles.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
He lifted his head and met her gaze. His jaw worked and his eyes were troubled. “I don’t know.”
His admission gave her hope. “You don’t have to give her up.”
“I want to do the best thing for her. What happens when I tire of domesticity and want my old life back? What happens to her? Isn’t it better to send her to a stable home before she gets too attached here?”
“I have news for you. She’s already attached.”
He closed his eyes and inhaled a shaky breath.
“She’s calling you Daddy again. That’s a huge step for her.”
“I know.” The words came out strangled, almost tortured. “I’m not father material.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re trying, and that’s all that matters to her.”
He looked down at her, his expression conflicted. “What matters to you?”
Amelia shrugged, feeling choked up herself. “This isn’t about me. This is about you and your daughter. You can’t just throw her away. You took her to see the houseboat. You skated with her. Had her come to a game. You’re in this way too deep to back out now, Brick.”
He rubbed his eyes and groaned. “I don’t know what the right thing is, but I know myself. I’m not cut out for this life. I’ll tire of it and go back to my old ways, and where will she be? Where will you be?”
Amelia shook her head. “If that’s how little you think of yourself, you really don’t know yourself at all.”
Brick furrowed his brow, studying her with an inscrutable expression. Grabbing her hand, he held it to his mouth in a soft kiss. “I do know whatever happens, I want you in my life.” His words should’ve comforted, but they didn’t.
“Under what conditions? You said yourself you’ll go back to your old ways. I’m not going to be one of many women in your life.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to be.”
She stood on tiptoes, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed his chin. “Do the right thing, Marty. Trust yourself. Give yourself credit. You’re a good man.” She gazed into his eyes and saw the man he didn’t see, the man who’d do anything for a friend, who gave up his lifestyle for his daughter, who tried to be what people needed him to be even while insisting he didn’t care.
He did care.
And so did she, more than she wanted to admit.
“I don’t know what the right thing is.” He pressed his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist.
“You’ll figure it out.” The fog lifted from her heart as the sun shone through. He would do the right thing.
She had faith in Brick and the bond the three of them had forged. Despite all the crap she’d been through, Amelia realized she still believed in the power of love.
And she believed in them.
* * * *
The following Saturday night, Brick had a rare night off. The guys had gone out clubbing and begged him to go, but he hadn’t even been tempted.
Amelia had prepared a home-cooked meal of mashed potatoes, gravy, chicken, and asparagus. She made Macy’s favorite dessert, chocolate cream pie. His stomach gr
owled as the most delectable scents wafted into the living room. Rising from his chair, he tousled Macy’s hair as he walked by her. She was so damn cute sitting on the floor amid mounds of Barbies and Barbie clothes.
Grinning, he sneaked behind Amelia, who was stirring the gravy, and grabbed her around the waist. She screamed, he laughed, and Macy came running over, not wanting to be left out. She danced around them as Amelia swatted Brick’s hands away from her.
“Let me finish dinner.”
He pulled her to him. “Let’s skip straight to dessert.”
“I want dessert first,” Macy agreed heartily. They both laughed, and Brick twirled his daughter around the kitchen, lifting her in the air and dipping her low. She squealed with delight.
Brick put her down, feeling better than he had when he’d signed his multimillion-dollar deal with a no-trade clause.
“Now you two get out of here and let me finish dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
Brick took Macy’s hand, finding it the most natural thing in the world to sink to the floor next to her and the Barbie armada.
“You can have her. She looks like Meel.” She handed him a dark-haired Barbie with huge blue eyes.
“She does.” Right down to the naked body, but he didn’t voice that particular opinion.
“You can have these clothes.” Macy piled a stack in front of him. “We’re going to a ball, so you have to dress her.”
“She can’t go to the ball naked?”
“No, Daddy.” She laughed at him, while his heart thumped inside his chest.
Maybe he could do this thing.
His mother had been trying to reach him, and he hadn’t responded. He hadn’t made his final decision and until he did, he didn’t want to talk. She’d left multiple voice mails, which he hadn’t listened to, and even resorted to text messages, which he ignored. Eventually, he’d need to respond before she reported him missing and sent Seattle’s best to hunt him down, though she was more than used to his nonresponsiveness.
Regardless of his decision, he’d be in for a lecture on the responsibilities of raising a child. He wasn’t in the mood for one of his mother’s lectures, even if she meant well. He’d heard it all before and could most likely predict what she’d say before she said it, but his mother hadn’t been around him the past few months. She hadn’t seen the changes in him. If only he could be sure they were permanent.
Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8) Page 20
