I could hold her hand in the hallways at the rink. It wouldn’t affect the way people saw her.
I could be her friend. It would only strengthen our relationship.
I could fuck her in her office, and all she’d feel was pleasure.
She didn’t need the lines she’d drawn to keep her safe. I’d keep her safe if she’d just trust me.
“Please,” she whispered, rocking her hips back on my fingers.
“Please what?” I asked, using my thumb to gently work her clit.
“That!” she cried out, then slammed her own hand over her mouth. Her head fell back against her desk, but her eyes stayed locked on mine.
“This?” I added a third finger, thrusting inside her soft walls.
She nodded and reached for me, but when she couldn’t span the distance, dropped her hands.
“Just enjoy,” I told her as my hand tested the soft curve of her waist. My fingers within her moved relentlessly, and even though my cock pushed against my pants, pulsing with need to get inside her, I focused all of my attention on Langley.
Her legs started to tremble...and her fucking phone rang.
“No,” I ordered, taking her phone from her suit pocket with that empty hand and sliding it to collide with mine. “Be here. Be with me.”
Her legs shook, and her eyes darted over her shoulder to where it rang, even as I felt her orgasm building in the clasp of her muscles, the pounding of her pulse at her throat.
“Okay,” she agreed.
I wanted to scream out in victory. To celebrate even harder than I had when I’d scored twice this evening. Instead, I curled my fingers, found that spot that drove her out of her mind, and proceeded to make my wife scream into her fist.
Her orgasm tore through her as she let go, and I knew it had been her choice. She could have kept herself from coming. Could have blocked me out and answered the phone. She’d done it before when we’d been interrupted. But in this moment? She chose me.
I loved her even more for it.
As I brought her down, coaxing her aftershocks down even as I started to rebuild that fire, our phones rang in tandem.
“Damn it, can’t we just be left alone?” Langley snapped, then rolled slightly, reaching for my phone, not hers. “Mikael Svensson?”
Tage’s coach. I reached for the phone as I slid my fingers from her. The only reason he’d call was if something was wrong.
“Mikael?” I answered in Swedish.
Langley watched me but cursed when she saw something on her phone and answered it.
“Axel. I’m so sorry to call you like this, but we’re here in the hospital. Tage has been injured, and we’re…” His breathing stuttered, and my heart hit the floor.
“Is he okay?” I demanded. It was a little after five here, which made it after eleven at home. Shit, he’d had a game tonight. “Mikael!”
“Axel, I don’t know. They’re not telling us anything, but he went down hard. They had to bring a stretcher onto the ice. That’s why I’m calling you. You’re the next of kin.”
Everything in me turned to ice and shattered.
16
Langley
“I need you down here now!” Gage’s voice was frantic. I plugged my free ear with my finger, drowning out the words Axel fired in Swedish to Svensson, whoever that was. Likely one of his friends calling about the game. “Now, Langley! Cannon punched a ref outside the locker room!”
“Oh fucking hell,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“One of the ref’s buddies has already called the fucking League.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” I hurried around my desk, pulling down my skirt and grabbing my bag. The tingly bliss Axel had just given me all but evaporated as adrenaline kicked in. “I’m on my way. Make sure he doesn’t say a damn word to anyone.”
“On it.” Gage hung up, and I immediately filed through my contacts, pulling up anyone and everyone I knew in the League.
Axel fired off again in rapid Swedish, the concerned tone halting me in my tracks. I finally glanced up from my phone, noting the slight panic in his eyes. More Swedish followed by some intense nodding and then he shoved his cell in his pocket.
“Tage is hurt.”
“Omigod, what happened?” I asked, my chest tightening.
“Took a hard hit into the net, and with the angle of the collision, he tore both ACLs. That’s...catastrophic. They have to be repaired. Surgery will happen before we can even make it over there.” Axel strode toward my office door.
“Axel, I’m so sorry,” I said, a slight relief in my voice. An ACL wasn’t life threatening, thank God, but it could ruin his career. “That is awful. Of course you need to go.”
He paused with his hand on the knob, tilting his head as he looked back at me, his long hair falling over his shoulder with the move. “We need to go,” he said. “Langley, I need you with me—”