I breathe a laugh as she grabs my shirt and attempts to connect our mouths. I cup her face between my hands and sit up on my knees, tilting her head back. She rises with me, fingers circling my wrists. With my thumb I skim the curve of her bottom lip and watch them part. Her eyes stay on mine as I bend to kiss her chin. She whimpers, annoyed.
“Tell me I’m yours,” I whisper.
“You’re mine.” Her eyes search mine, soft and wanting. “And I’m yours.”
“Yes. Mine.” I drop my head, lips brushing over hers before I pull back again. “Always.”
The sound that falls from her lips is half need, half frustration. I understand it, share it even. I want to wrap my arms around her; I want to feel her body against mine, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her touch. These weeks without her have been a painful eternity. I’m not sure how I survived eight years. But I also want to savor this moment because this is a new first kiss. This is the one that marks the beginning of our forever. Because I’m never letting her go again.
When I close the space between us, Lilah’s lips are already parted, so I stroke inside her mouth in a slow, shallow sweep before pulling back. She tries to follow, but I hold her still. “Do you remember when all we used to do was kiss?”
“Why’re we still talking?”
“Do you?”
“Of course I remember. I’d be so worked up, dying for something else to happen, but I had no idea what.”
I would’ve humped a tree back then. I’d wanted to put my hands all over her, touch every part of her body that she’d let me, but I hadn’t ever wanted to push. Now I do. I want to claim back what’s always been mine, and I’m fighting with myself to take it slow. “Is that how you feel right now?”
“Yes, but I know what’s going to happen next.”
I suck her bottom lip, nipping gently. “You think so?”
She drops a hand, stroking me through my pants. “Definitely.”
I bite back a groan, hoping to stay in control a little longer. It’s been weeks since I’ve been inside her, surrounded in the feel, the smell, the taste of her. “Want to tell me?”
“You’re going to tease me like you do, get me all excited, and then you’re going to love me, probably for several hours, with short intermissions.”
“This is one of the many reasons why we belong together.”
She grins. “Because I’m sexually psychic?”
I laugh. “I’m taking you upstairs.” I lift her and she wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to the bedroom.
We take our time undressing, touches soft and reverent. Her bra is lacy and pale, feminine and pretty. She’s always been such a delicious temptation. That hasn’t changed at all with time. I thread one hand into her hair, the other skimming her breast, following the edge of her bra until I can flick the clasp open. I trace her nipple before I trail a path to her hip, memorizing her body all over again. Hooking my fingers into the waist of her pants, I pull them down, exposing the matching panties.
“I missed you. It was hard to give you space.”
“It was hard to take it.”
Lilah’s hands move over my shoulders, one curving around the back of my neck, the other smoothing down my spine. I drop my head to kiss her again. Her tongue meets mine, pushing back, sweeping inside my mouth. This isn’t like the sweet kisses of youth, or the desperate reunion after years of separation and lost time found again. This is reacquainting under the promise of something new.
Laying her down on the bed, I fit myself between her legs and stretch out over her. She hooks her ankles behind my back, and tongues and teeth clash as gentleness wanes, replaced by aching need, the fallout of deprivation.
Lilah groans, fingers sifting through my hair and gripping hard. “Roll over.”
I push up on one arm. “Why?”
“So I can be on top and you can see me.”
I flip onto my back, taking her with me. She uses my chest to brace herself, sliding over my erection through the barrier of satin and my pants. They need to go.
I settle my palms against the dip in her waist, just above her hips, thumbs brushing under her ribs. “God, you’re perfect.”
“Says the professional hockey player with the body of a god.” Her fingertips trail over my chest and down my stomach. The muscles twitch and flex with the touch.
It’s only been a handful of weeks, but it feels like the first time all over again.
I pull her closer and lift my head, capturing a tight peak between my lips, swirling my tongue, then sucking.
“God, Ethan.” Lilah braces her hands on my chest and tries to push away.
I slide my arm around her back, fingers splayed between her shoulder blades to keep her close, moving higher to grip the back of her neck. I release her nipple and lift my head, my playoff beard brushing the wet flesh. “This is the teasing part you talked about.” I gently bite the swell.
Her eyes fall closed on a grin. “Some things never change.”
“Mmm.” I run a light finger down her side and she jerks. “Like this ticklish spot right here, or the little sigh I always get when I kiss right here.” I press an openmouthed kiss against the side of her neck and she hums. “And the way I love you.” I tip her chin down as her eyes flutter open. “You’re in my soul, Lilah. That will never change.”
Her fingers drift over my lips before our mouths meet. “I love you always.”
We touch and kiss, hands roaming. Lilah’s fingers dip into the waistband of my pants. Flicking the button open, she slips her hand inside. I groan at her gentle exploration.
Her strokes are slow, unhurried, almost a torment, which I’m sure is part of her plan. I lift my hips, trying to get her to go faster, to squeeze tighter, but she maintains the same even rhythm. “You’re not the only one who can tease, you know.”
I laugh and bite her neck, getting the squeeze I’m looking for. “I want to be in you.”
She brings her fingers to her lips, her smile knowing. “You mean in here?” They drift down, between her breasts, over her stomach, and across the satin and lace between her thighs. “Or did you mean here?”
“I like that option the best.”
“I thought there was going to be all this teasing.” She’s still stroking, pushing me closer to the edge.
“Well, we have hours, don’t we? Besides, you’re doing enough teasing for both of us.”
I wrap an arm around her waist and flip her over. She shrieks and then moans as I settle between her legs. “I bet I make you come before I do.”
“What do I get if you come first?” She arches at the roll of my hips.
“Endless orgasms. As many as you want.” I kiss her neck, then shifting down her body, I cover the satin between her legs with my mouth and suck.
She gasps, fingers sliding through my hair. I skim a fingertip under the edge of her panties and get a moan. Then I move the fabric to the side, enough that her clit barely peeks out, and I lick along the edge of the fabric, grazing the sensitive skin.
“Ethan,” Lilah groans.
“I like it down here. I’m gonna be here for a while, I think.” I circle and tease, taste and torment, driving her higher and higher until a sheen covers her body and she trembles, on the edge of release.
As she comes, I yank her panties down her legs. Before the orgasm ends, I’m inside her, feeling the pulse and squeeze as she surrounds me.
“I think I win.” It comes out gravelly and rough.
Lilah’s eyes flutter open, lids still heavy. “You can win every time if you want. I really don’t mind.”
I kiss her chin and then her lips. Staying close, I make love to the first woman who ever owned my heart and kept it until I found my way back to her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Win
Lilah
This is so delicious!” Emery drops down beside me on the couch, and her drink nearly sloshes over the rim of her glass.
I pause in my nail polish applic
ation. “What is that?”
“A margarita.” Carmen sets a glass on a coaster beside my half-painted toes, then sits in the armchair across from me. Her eyes flutter shut as she takes a sip of her own and releases a contented sigh.
“A virgin one, I hope,” I say, knowing full well it isn’t.
Not that it matters—we’re having a sister sleepover. At Ethan’s instead of my place, because he has enough bedrooms. It’s great for family events and parties, like the one Ethan threw last week. After my exam results came in, he decided we needed to do something special to mark the important milestone in my life. I passed the exam with a ninety, which bumped my final grade and alleviated my worries about getting into the master’s program. The party was ridiculous and unnecessary, but it was nice to be celebrated like that with the people I love. Emery finally had a chance to meet Ethan that night. She’s pretty smitten, which is understandable. He’s charming and gorgeous and difficult not to love.
Tonight it’s just the three of us—me, Carmen, and Emery—so there’s a good chance we’ll all end up in the same room. One of the five bedrooms in the house has been outfitted with a queen bed and double bunks.
It’s supposed to be for Dylan’s kids when they visit from out West, but we had a sleepover last week when Ethan was out of town for no other reason than we like spending time together. Emery thinks it’s fun to do the bunk bed thing, and since she’s never had the sister experience before, Carmen and I are happy to oblige.
Ethan also turned the heat up in the pool so it’s warm enough to swim. Plus there’s the hot tub and the sauna. Tomorrow is Saturday, so none of us have to be up early for work, including Emery, who’s taking extra courses and working part-time.
Emery grabs the remote and turns on the TV. It’s already on the hockey channel. “When does the game start?”
“In about twenty minutes.” I resume nail polish application.
“Cool.” Emery takes another gulp of her margarita. She’s already drained most of it.
“Slow down, there, half-pint,” I warn. “It’s bad enough we’re breaking the law with the underage drinking. I don’t feel like taking a trip to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.”
“It’s so tasty it’s hard to stop.” She sets her glass down, though, and taps her lip thoughtfully. “But I don’t want my next run-in with Dr. Lovely to be while I’m having my stomach pumped.”
Carmen raises a brow. “How do you know Noah?”
“He was Emery’s surgeon when she broke her ankle,” I explain.
“He’s so hot.” Emery sighs.
“He’s a little old for you, don’t you think?” Carmen asks from behind the rim of her glass.
“Oh, totally. I think my dad would shit an entire pile of bricks if I brought home a guy in his thirties.” Her eyes go wide, darting between us. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize,” Carmen and I say at the same time.
Emery bites her lip, her smile gone. “It’s still kinda weird, this whole thing.” She gestures between us. “And I forget sometimes, you know?”
“It’s really okay,” I reassure her.
Since the discovery that Emery is our half sister, Carmen and I decided to give our father a chance to make amends. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive him entirely, or to call him Dad, since he’s never been one to me, but for Emery’s sake, I’m willing to at least be civil with him. She’s right about it being weird, and sometimes quite awkward, but she’s worth the effort.
Commentators for the hockey game appear on the TV, ending our conversation. It’s the sixth game in the series and Minnesota is down one game. Tonight they’re either going to game seven or coming home without the Cup. I’m crossing everything it’s the former, not the latter.
We drink far too many margaritas while we watch the game. It’s intense. The score stays close in the first period, but in the second Ethan scores a goal and follows with an assist, giving them a solid lead they manage to hold on to for the rest of the game. My heart swells with a pride so huge I can barely breathe as the final buzzer sounds—though it might also be because both of my sisters are hugging me so tightly. Tomorrow he’ll be home.
His dream is right there, within reach. The Cup is almost his.
* * *
“I’m so excited! I can’t believe I get to see the championship game live!” Emery’s arms are linked through mine and Carmen’s as we navigate the crowded arena. It’s a challenge to walk straight with how much bouncing she’s doing, but her enthusiasm is infectious.
I’m nervous for Ethan. The series is tied three to three. At least his team has home ice advantage.
Martin and Jeannie are ahead of us. I marvel as he takes the stairs at a cautious but competent pace. He’s come a long way in the months since the stroke. Once we reach our designated row, Jeannie and Martin allow us to file down it first so they can have the seats closer to the end. Center ice provides the perfect view of the entire rink.
Emery grabs Carmen’s shoulder. “Oh my God! Dr. Lovely is here! Best night ever.”
Carmen shoots her a look. “I thought we established that he’s too old for you.”
Emery rolls her eyes. “He’s still hot, though.”
We make our way down the row. There’s some elbowing and whispers as Carmen tries to make Emery sit beside Dr. Lovely but ends up beside him herself.
Emery grips the armrests, vibrating with excitement. She surveys the rows of fans, cringing at some of the outfits the bunnies are wearing. She elbows me in the arm. “Hey! Who is that?”
I follow her gaze. “Who is who?”
“That guy standing beside Jeannie.” Emery’s had an opportunity to meet Ethan’s family in the past two weeks, but this is the first time his brothers have been in town since she’s been introduced to the Kase family.
“Tyler?”
“Oooh. Ethan’s older brother, right?”
“Yup.”
Emery narrows her eyes. “How much older is he again? Like, a few years?”
“Try seven.”
She slaps the arm of her chair. “Dammit! He doesn’t look that old. Why am I always lusting after these old guys? Why can’t college guys be less jerky and more…” She flounders, searching for a word. When she can’t seem to find one, she gestures to Tyler. “Like that.”
“You’ll get to meet him after the game.”
She makes a pfft sound. “Whatever. He was in high school by the time I was freaking born.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighs and then brightens. “Will I get to meet some of the hockey players after this? Most of them are under thirty, right?”
“Yes. You’ll get to meet them, and yes, most of them are under thirty.”
“Great. Something to look forward to, you know, apart from the actual game.”
Drinks are purchased and no one says anything when a beer is handed to Emery. The game is a nail-biter. The score is tied one to one at the end of the first period. Ethan plays flawlessly. While the trade opportunities will be there no matter the outcome of this game, if they win, they’ll be far more favorable for him.
At the bottom of the second period, New York scores, giving them the advantage going into the final period. I watch Ethan and his coach strategizing before he returns to the ice.
I fidget with the bracelet around my wrist, fingering the hockey stick charm, saying a little prayer to the hockey gods. Minnesota gains control of the puck at the beginning of the third period, and the team captain scores another goal, with Ethan managing the assist. We’re on the edge of our seats, quite literally, the score tied, and no shots get past the net on either side.
It’s beginning to look like the game is headed for overtime until Ethan commandeers the puck with only minutes left on the clock. He’s lightning fast as he glides down the ice, maneuvering around the opposition, keeping the puck close. Skating around the back of the net, he shoots on the way up the rink, sneaking the puck past the goalie. We’re all out of our seats, alon
g with the mass of Minnesota fans; the screams of excitement send a shiver down my spine. New York scrambles for the puck, but Minnesota keeps it out of their reach as the seconds tick down and the final buzzer sounds. The roar of the crowd is deafening as Minnesota streams onto the ice, high on the win.
I’m riding the same wave as everyone else as Minnesota players pass the cup while they skate the rink, celebrating this monumental win.
The game is long over before we finally make our way out of the stadium and head out to celebrate with the team. The wall of flat screens shows game highlights and interviews. Ethan’s smiling, sweaty face pops up at the same time an arm slips around my waist and warm lips brush my ear. “Took you long enough to get here.”
I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I had to fight through your throng of fans.”
“You need to start taking advantage of the fact that you’re my girlfriend and throw your special pass around more.” He dips his head, lips meeting mine in a gentle, sweet kiss.
“You did it,” I say against his warm mouth. He tastes faintly of bourbon. “You brought the Cup home.”
He leans back far enough to meet my gaze. His smile is radiant. The only other time I’ve seen him this happy was when he was drafted. “Well, I can’t take all the credit. I have a whole pile of teammates who were in on it, too.”
“But you scored the winning goal.”
“I’m planning on scoring a lot of those later when we’re celebrating alone.”
I wrinkle my nose and poke him in the chest. “Leave it to you to ruin a moment by turning it into a sexual innuendo.”
“I’m not ruining the moment.” He holds me tighter when I try to push away. “Do you know what the best part of winning the Cup is?”
I try not to smile, certain he’s going to throw another dirty quip at me. He’s half in the bag, I think, despite only having been at the bar for maybe half an hour. “What’s that?”
“That you’re here to share it with me.”
The Good Luck Charm Page 25
