You Had Me at Hockey (Bears Hockey)

by Kelly Jamieson

“Sure. We all get tickets to give to friends and family. I haven’t used any yet.”

  “Okay. That would be awesome. So I guess you can’t move in that day.”

  “Probably not. But I’ve got the Sunday and Monday after off.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “Um…maybe?”

  I laugh. “I’d be happy to help. Let me know.”

  We’re passing by the Church of Saint Vincent Ferrer, which I love. I pause to look up at the old stone façade glowing in spotlights. “This church is beautiful.”

  Josh studies it. “Yeah. It really is.”

  For a moment, I’m distracted from the church by his face…his strong jaw and nose, the way he’s admiring the church and not dismissing my wonder and awe over it.

  “It’s gorgeous inside too. I was curious one day, so I stopped in.”

  He shakes his head. “I bet you do a lot of that.”

  “What?” We resume walking.

  “Stopping in random places you want to see.”

  “I guess so. Why not? I’ve discovered some amazing things.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.”

  “You have everything planned. Maybe too planned.” I hope I haven’t insulted him.

  “Maybe,” he agrees quietly. “I like it that way, though.”

  “I know.” I think about that as we walk.

  I did it again. Messed up his plans. I shouldn’t have jumped at the chance to hang out with my friends. I love Eli and Cooper and I wanted them to meet Josh and…I didn’t think the poetry reading was going to be that terrible.

  He’s being very gracious about it, though. He could be pissed at me.

  “I saw pictures of you on Instagram,” he says out of the blue. “At a book launch?”

  “Oh. Yeah! Thursday night. I went with Eli and Cooper. And then we went to a club after and danced. Do you like dancing?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you want to go dancing right now?”

  “Uh…”

  “Kidding! I already messed up your evening enough. I forgot you like to plan your spontaneity.”

  He grins and it makes my girl parts heat up. Damn, he’s just so…gorgeous. But more than that. His smile is genuine and self-aware and that’s really, really hot. “Just a bit. How about we plan to go dancing sometime?”

  I squeeze his arm, his biceps big beneath his jacket. “Okay!”

  Well, there. We’re planning another date.

  “Do you ever sing to yourself?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Uh…yeah. Sometimes.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “Hmm. I sing in the car. But I haven’t driven much since I’ve been here.”

  I nod.

  “What about you?”

  “Well, I don’t have a car. But I sing all the time. I have a terrible voice.”

  “I think your voice is sexy.”

  I tilt my head, the corners of my mouth kicking up. “Do you? Thank you. I actually like your voice too. I noticed it that day we did the podcast.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nod. “But I can’t sing. Truly. I’m not very musical. I like dancing, but I’m not that great at it. When I was a kid, I grew really fast, and I was all long, skinny arms and legs, and super uncoordinated. I freakin’ hated gym class. So…I’m trying to learn these TicTok dances and videoing myself doing them. It’s kind of humiliating.”

  “But it’s real.”

  My heart bumps. “Yes.”

  “That’s what you’re all about. Being real. Not everybody can dance like tWitch.”

  I laugh. “You know who tWitch is?”

  “Sure. I’m on TicTok.”

  “No way.” I stop walking to pull out my phone. After a few swipes I find him and follow him.

  “Don’t get too excited,” he says. “I don’t post much and it’s not very interesting.”

  “Wait!” My eyes widen, staring at a video of him. “You’re dancing!”

  He peers over at my phone. “Oh yeah. The guys made me do that step challenge with them. That was when I was in Dallas. We all got drunk.”

  I give him a playful look. “Hey. You’re not as stuffy as you seem.”

  “Stuffy?” He straightens. Then he sighs. “No, I really am stuffy.”

  “We are going to dance.” I put my phone away.

  One more block and we’re at my place. On most Saturday nights, I’d feel like this was lame, being home this early, but I’m with Josh and it doesn’t feel lame. It feels…exciting.

  Inside, I hang up our coats and move to my kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  “I have vodka.” I pull a bottle of Grey Goose out of the freezer. “And limoncello.” I close the freezer and peer into the fridge. “Oh, I have a few beers! And a bottle of rosé. I’ll have that.”

  “A beer would be great. Is it Pissing Pigs Ale?”

  “Ah! Ha, no! That was Pig’s Ass Porter. This is…Plaid to the Bone Ale.”

  “Jesus.” But he’s grinning as he takes the bottle from me. “What ever happened to Bud Light?”

  “Seriously?” I give him a reproving look. “Be adventurous.”

  “Seems I have no choice around you.”

  For a moment, I’m still and silent, feeling that pang of shame I’ve felt so many times when people pull back from me. But when I glance at Josh, his lips are tipped into a rueful smile and his eyes are warm. Maybe he didn’t mean it as a slight? Maybe he actually…likes that about me?

  I gaze down at the bottle of wine in my hands, my breath stuck in my chest.

  “Hey,” he says quietly, as if sensing my uncertainty. “Like I said earlier…sometimes it’s more fun when your plans get blown up.”

  I meet his eyes. “If I piss you off, will you tell me?”

  “Honesty’s important to you, isn’t it?” He sets his beer on the counter and takes the wine bottle from me.

  “Yes.” I open a drawer and find the corkscrew. I pass it over and he works at opening the wine.

  “I’ll tell you.”

  “Thank you.” I pull a wineglass out of a cupboard and set it down. Josh pours wine into it and then we walk into my living room. I start some music, turn on the fireplace, and take a seat next to him on the couch, curling my legs under me.

  “What would your perfect day look like?” I ask.

  He smiles at the unexpected question. “Hmm. I guess…I’d like to have morning sex. Then shower sex. Then breakfast.”

  “What for breakfast?”

  “Bacon. Lots of bacon. And waffles.”

  “Okay. Then what?”

  “Then…a nap. And more sex.”

  “Sensing a theme here…”

  He grins. “Then I’d play hockey, score five goals, and win the game.”

  “Yes!”

  “Then go home and have more sex. No, wait. First a steak dinner. Then sex.”

  “Priorities.”

  “I work up an appetite playing hockey.”

  “It sounds like it,” I murmur. Now my head is full of thoughts of sex. Morning sex. Shower sex. I bet Josh is strong and athletic and beautiful…in bed. All wet in the shower. On the living room floor. I am beset with erotic images of naked Josh…

  Heat washes down through me and I take a gulp of my chilled wine.

  “How about you?”

  “Um, me?” I’d tell him I like sex too, except…I don’t know that.

  “Your perfect day.”

  “You know, that day doesn’t sound bad, actually. Except I don’t play hockey. Obviously.”

  His eyes darken. He’s thinking about sex, too. With me. Oh Jesus.

  I touch my index finger to my lips. “Maybe instead of hockey I’
d like to go shopping. The steak dinner sounds great, though.”

  “Seems we’re on the same page about the sex.”

  I smile slowly. “Maybe so.” After a weighty pause where our eyes meet and hold…and hold…and I can feel my pulse everywhere in my body, I say, “Okay. What’s something you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time but haven’t done? And why haven’t you?”

  Tipping his head back, he frowns. “Jesus. I don’t know.”

  “Take your time.”

  He flicks me an amused glance. “Thanks.” Then he goes silent again. “Ugh.”

  “That bad?” I ask softly.

  “Well. I had a friend once who…let me down. I’ve never confronted him about it. I’ve wanted to but I haven’t done it.”

  “Why?”

  “Never had the chance.”

  “Really?”

  He drops his head forward. “Okay, I have had the chance, if I really wanted to.” He appears to be thinking, then lifts his head, his jaw set. “I haven’t done it because it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  He’s lying. But maybe he actually believes that. I want to ask more, to push him. But I hold myself back. “Something to think about, I guess.”

  “Yeah. Your turn.”

  Well, one thing I’ve always dreamed of is having sex. Is this the time to tell him that? Once again, I have a talent for scaring men away. Guys get freaked out about virgins. One time I told a man just as we were getting busy and he got wangxiety, and it never happened. “I’ve always dreamed of finishing college.”

  After a beat, he says, “You still could.”

  “Actually, I am taking courses. Well, just one right now, but I’ve done a few over the years. Maybe one day I’ll actually get a degree.”

  “What are you taking?”

  “Right now? Psychology.”

  “That’s very cool.”

  “It’s interesting. We’re learning about personality disorders. I’ve pretty much diagnosed everyone I know.”

  “Everyone you know has a personality disorder?”

  “Probably not.” I grin. “But it’s fun.”

  “So what’s wrong with me?”

  I study him, thinking. “Not a damn thing.”

  “Ha. Other than I’m stuffy.”

  I tilt my head. “Well, if that was really interfering with your life, it might be part of a disorder. But just being inflexible doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It’s not like you sit at home all the time because you’re afraid to try new things.”

  “Huh. That does pretty much describe me.”

  “You’re exaggerating. I mean, it could be part of an anxiety disorder. Or PTSD. Or an adjustment disorder.” I pause. “Did you have a hard time adjusting after your accident?”

  He doesn’t answer immediately, and I regret asking the question. We’ve been having a fun conversation, and now I’ve stuck my Steve Madden boot into my big mouth.

  “Hell yeah,” he eventually says in a low voice. He meets my eyes and I can see the pain shadowing them. “Some things are still hard.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m being a smartass.”

  One corner of his mouth elevates. “It’s okay.”

  Impulsively, I lean over and brush a kiss over his mouth.

  He draws in a sharp breath and his eyes go heavy-lidded.

  “I like you,” I say.

  He’s watching my lips. “I like you too,” he says roughly. And he angles his head and dips in for another kiss…this time longer. Our mouths press together. I feel heat radiating from him. I’m vibrating. It’s like we both want more but we’re hesitant to make the next move.

  With a low groan, he sets his beer on the table and slides his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His mouth opens on mine, deepening the kiss, and heat floods through me. Our tongues slide together and it’s so hot, so erotic, my belly is flip-flopping and my inner muscles are clenching and releasing.

  I lower my wineglass to the table too, sliding closer to him on the couch. Our mouths have barely separated, but we dive back into the kiss, my hands clutching at his shoulders. I breathe him in, the scent of his skin making my head whirl. Our tongues glide together, our lips pressing. His mouth is hot and soft and tastes faintly bitter, like hops.

  God, God, he can kiss. His mouth moves on mine, kissing the corners, sucking on my bottom lip so gently. Moments flow into each other as I lose myself in it. I need to be closer to him and he knows that, dragging me onto his lap, his hands moving over me. And then that’s not enough either…I want skin. I want his hands on my skin. I want my hands on his.

  Please, don’t let this ever stop…

  As my head falls back and his mouth feasts on my throat, sucking gently then licking, tasting, he slides a hand up from my waist, over my ribs, and then…I shudder as he cups my breast. Oh God…my back arches, pushing deeper into his palm, and he squeezes gently, his mouth working magic on the side of my neck. I feel like I’m glowing…brimming with heat and light and desire.

  His fingertips brush over my chest in the opening of my top. My nipples tingle and tighten even more as he finds the ties of the wrap blouse and tugs and then it’s loose. Slowly, his mouth on my jaw, he separates the two sides.

  His hands are large. And warm. Rough fingertips brush over my skin, which quivers in response. I’m melting, my bones dissolving, my mind spinning away from me.

  He shifts me off his lap now, easing me down so I’m lying on the arm of the couch, legs across his lap, and he leans over me, skimming his lips over my throat, my collarbones, and then between my breasts. His hands cover my breasts through my bra and he pauses there, his breath coming in hot bursts against my skin.

  “You’re beautiful, Sara,” he whispers, then presses another openmouthed kiss to my skin.

  “Oh…so are you.” I slide my hands into his hair, so thick and soft. I run my fingers through it again, and again. He turns his head and kisses the inner curve of one breast. I’m burning up, senseless, just a mass of nerves tingling and heat pooling and muscles clenching. I’m aching and smoldering and yearning.

  His body feels so big against mine, so strong, and yet I feel completely safe with him.

  It’s a relief when he pushes my stretch bralette up and out of the way, and I’m flooded with anticipation. My boobs aren’t big, and I hated that for a long time, but all I care about right now is how they feel. He lifts his head to study me as his hands cup me again, and the look of dark need in his eyes has my pussy contracting sharply.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned-on from making out with a man. Like, I can’t stand it, I need him, I need more, I have to have it.

  “So pretty.” He rubs his thumbs along the undersides of my breasts, plumping up my flesh. He licks his bottom lip and a quiver ripples through me. Then his fingers are on my nipples, first caressing, then pinching, then tugging.

  I can’t stop the groan that climbs up my throat, my head falling back and my eyes closing. “Oh God.”

  And when he takes a nipple into his mouth…I’m dying of pleasure. It spikes through me, right from my nipple to my pussy, and that ache inside me intensifies. My hips lift, and as if sensing my need, he slides a hand down over my stomach, over the front of my jeans, and between my legs.

  Another indistinct noise falls from my lips as he cups me there, holding me. I pulse against his hand. His mouth is sucking, tugging the sensitive tip of my breast into his mouth, and sensation tightens into a hot coil below his hand. I can’t even…can’t…I lift my hips again greedily and the heel of his palm pushes onto my clit, and oh Jesus, I’m so close…I can’t stop it. Pleasure explodes inside me, rocking my body, and I shudder uncontrollably as sparks flow through my veins and my entire body lights up.

  “Jesus,” he murmurs against my skin. “Sara…”
>
  “Oh God, I know.” My fingers tug helplessly at his hair. I should be embarrassed but right now I don’t care, it feels so good. Limp, flushed, and breathless, I open my eyes to see him gazing down at me, so intensely focused on me, looking as turned-on as I am.

  Chapter 12

  Josh

  I’m about to lose my fucking mind. And more than that. My dick is a throbbing spike in my jeans.

  Sara just came apart in my hands and I fucking love it. She’s still lying there panting, eyes glassy, sexy lips parted. Her shirt is open, her tits are bare, and holy hell, they’re sweet and ripe and tipped with the most gorgeous hard nipples I’ve ever seen.

  I want to devour her. I want to fuck her.

  “Um, wow,” she wheezes. Her fingers are playing in my hair and they’re sending hot sensations down my spine and straight to my balls. “That was…unexpected.”

  “That was fucking hot.” I lean down and kiss her mouth, letting my tongue linger on her bottom lip. “Making you come is my new favorite thing.”

  Her cheeks, already pink, get even brighter. “I kind of like it too.”

  My lips twitch. “Kind of?”

  “Okay, it was incredible.” She looks surprisingly vulnerable, considering how fearless she seems.

  Which is why I slowly tug the black satin and lace down over her tits and pull the sides of her silky blouse together. The idea of picking her up and carrying her into her bedroom did flash into my mind, but…my gut is telling me to slow down.

  She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyebrows tweaked together. “Don’t you want…”

  I groan. “Oh, fuck yeah. I want you.”

  Her face relaxes. “I can…give you a blow job.”

  Jesus. My dick twitches hard. Just thinking about her mouth on me has me nearly jizzing in my jeans. “Christ, you have no idea how much I’d love that.”

  “But…?” She gazes up at me, wide-eyed.

  I lean over to kiss her mouth, a soft press of my lips against hers. “Let’s take it easy.” Another kiss. “Slow.” Kiss. “Sexy.” This last time I open my mouth on hers and lick inside.

  She immediately opens for me, sliding her tongue along mine, a moan vibrating in her throat. After a moment, I shift her on the couch again, this time so I can lie down beside her, on my side. My hand rests on her stomach as we kiss, and her hands get busy now, slipping up under my shirt. When she touches my bare skin, I feel electrified.