Page 66 of He Has Pluck

Juliette keeps her cool and says hello to the couple, shifting her weight closer to me.

“So, how are you?” I ask O’Rourke, shifting the focus where it belongs and sounding like I’m afraid of the answer because I am.

“I’m having surgery in the morning here, and then I’ll be back in Boston in time for game seven.” He grins. “Not that I’m playing. I’ll be out for the rest of the season.” Then he clamps his mouth shut, so I don’t ask for details, like how much damage was done. Shit.

“I’m sorry. I should have—”

“Damn you, Jason. I told you it wasn’t your fault. Guys get hurt. It’s hockey. It’s what we signed up for.” He looks angry, like if he wasn’t all cut up and short on blood, he’d get up out of that bed and kick my ass.

I dip my head, and Juliette puts an arm around me, leaning in to remind me she’s here for me. My body reacts, and then her comfort seeps all the way through me like a miracle drug.

A nurse about my mom’s age with a name tag that says “Linda” storms into the room. “Time to wrap this up. Mr. O’Rourke needs his rest before surgery at seven am. And Lord knows, we’ll be poking and prodding him half the night.” She winks at him.

“We’re going,” I say. “You take good care of my man here.”

The nurse cackles as she shoves me aside to check on her patient.

“Later, man,” I say.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he says, his face as serious as my high school math teacher’s. We say our goodbyes to everyone and leave.

We get another Uber back to the hotel, no talking along the way. There’s no question that Juliette’s going to stay with me tonight.

She walks into my room ahead of me, then turns when I pull the door closed and flip the lock. “I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend before.” Her face is fierce, and I’m not sure if she’s angry or anxious. “I kind of like the idea that it’s you, Hockey Boy.”

“One thing. Explain to me your deal with Ruminski. Did you lie to him when you told him you’d take your camera to the hospital? Or did you change your mind after I claimed you?”

“I was never taking my camera. You assumed I was going to back down and put my career first, you shit.”

I chuckle, and my heart swells harder and faster than my dick as I go to her and gather her in. All the emotional turmoil of the day and night falls away. Exhaustion should be killing me right now, but adrenaline and the thrill of having her here, back where she belongs, energizes me.

“I don’t know what any of it means, except I missed you, and I’m glad to have you back in my bed. Stoked to have you having my back.”

She balls her fist and lightly taps my shoulders. “I’m fiercely loyal.”

“I know.” I push her onto the bed and join her, peeling her pants down, pushing her shirt up and laying my mouth over hers. She’s hot and hungry, tastes like heaven on earth and feels like sin.

She rolls on top of me and tears her mouth away. Then she stares at me with those breathtaking eyes. My heart leaps, and I’m not sure if it’s fear or excitement.

“What am I going to do with you, Hockey Boy?” she whispers. “I want you so much, but I don’t know—”

I fist my hand in her hair and hold her face close to mine. “Don’t say it, and don’t think past right now. You’re smart, and contrary to your assumptions, so am I. We’ll figure it out. Later.” I stroke my hands down her back and cup her smooth, plump rear. “This is the time to take care of more immediate needs.”

“What needs might those be?” She smiles, and her voice is breathless.

“I need to be inside you. I need to see you melt down in my arms and almost pass out with the intensity of your orgasm, over and over, all night.” I flip her over, making her give a satisfying moan of surprise. I hold my weight off her with my arms and stare, drinking in the wanton look on her face, seeing past the lust to the fierce caring and possessiveness.

Her hand lowers to my crotch, and she unzips my pants as if she’s read my mind. Not that it would be hard to do with my dick bulging against her belly. When she reaches inside and frees me, her mouth quivers, showing her raw need to consume me, reciprocate my need.

“Push down your panties,” I rasp, my arms shaking as I hold my plank, hovering above her like a racer waiting on the blocks for the starter pistol. “This isn’t going to be sweet and easy.”

“Why should it be just because we have feelings?” She tries to tease me as if she’s the same cool and distant ice chip she was when I met her, but the tense quiver of her mouth betrays her. I smile and brush my lips over hers as she kicks her panties off.

“It should be hard and intense because we have feelings, sweetheart.”

She mock scowls—or at least I think it’s a mock scowl. “Don’t call me that. Anything but that.” She squeezes my cock hard and pumps it, forcing a groan from my mouth.

I close my eyes and grapple for control while I let the pure pleasure of her touch roll through me. “That’s it, babe. Aaaah.” I open my eyes and stare into hers. She opens her thighs and moves my cock to her blazing hot, soaking wet opening, and the groan I release this time is loud as fuck. She bites my lip as I slide into her. I watch her face, reading the satisfaction, the zap of awareness that overcomes her as I fill her, pushing myself to the hilt.