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Again, I’m cut off by eager, greedy lips descending on mine. Soren kisses me bruisingly hard, and I love every minute of his tongue sliding against mine, of our breath mingling, of our bodies pressed tightly together.
All too soon, Mickey interrupts us. “So we only had to win the Stanley Cup for you to finally say it?” he teases.
I smile slyly and adjust where I stand so I can face them both. “Remember that email I sent you the day I moved into our new house?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. They both nod. “You may read it now.”
Knowing full well they don’t have their phones on them, I turn around and walk away. “I’ll see you outside the locker room,” I call over my shoulder, blowing them a kiss.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Soren growls.
The vibrator I barely noticed during the game pulses to life, buzzing more intently than it did earlier, and I can’t hold back a moan.
“You’re going to pay all night long,” Mickey rasps, shooting me a wink.
“God I hope so,” I grin.
