And I have another moment when my breath catches. He gives me a dazzling smile loaded with mischief, and it's so fucking beautiful I feel like I could die a happy woman right now to have been given that gift from him.
Pushing up, I roll off the bed. "Let me make you breakfast."
"You're treating me awful well," he observes as he rolls out of bed behind me. I bend over and find his briefs, tossing them his way. They smack him in the face and he glares at me, but then puts them on.
"Well, like I said, it's game day and I want you to perform well. So a big breakfast is in order."
"Then back to bed?" he asks hopefully.
I shrug. "If that's what you want to do. Don't you have a skate or something?"
Van shakes his head. "I'll go for a short run in a bit, but then I have nothing to do until I have to leave for the arena."
"Then it's sexcapades for the win," I say brightly as I slip my panties on. I then grab Van's T-shirt and throw it over my head, loving the smell of him as it envelopes me.
He watches me with interest and I wonder if he thinks that's too intimate, but he doesn't say a word about it.
But does ask, "Are you going to the game tonight?"
I shake my head with true dismay. "I have to work."
"At Lulu's right?" he asks with a cocked eyebrow.
"Yes, at Lulu's," I say with exasperation. "But you are going to have to go get my stuff at Follies. You promised."
He nods, appearing relieved that I've given up that career path. "I'll go get that after breakfast, then I'll go on a run when I get back."
"Then sexcapades?" I ask with a cheesy grin.
He rolls his eyes at me, and to my surprise hooks me around the back of my neck to pull me into him. My arms wrap around his waist and I look up.
"Want to run with me when I get back?" he asks.
I'm astonished by the invitation, but I'm not going to pass it up. "Absolutely."
This gets me a sharp slap on my ass and another smile from him. "Good...now go make my breakfast, woman."
"Bossy," I snap as I pull away from him.
He laughs and follows me out of the room, heading across the hall to the bathroom while I turn left to head into the kitchen.
I open the refrigerator and smile at the contents. I'm a planner. I knew when Lucas and Stephanie made amends that he would be staying at her apartment. I knew that meant Van and I would be alone, and it was my great hope that I'd be spending the full night in his bed thereafter.
Thus I planned for a breakfast contingency.
I pull out the bacon and eggs, giving the door a hip bump to close it. At the counter, I get a pan heating and start lining up strips of bacon in it. Just as they start to sizzle, arms come around my waist and Van is stepping into the back of my body. He's so much taller than me, and he just rests his chin on top of my head and murmurs, "We never have food in this house. Why are there bacon and eggs?"
"Um," I manage to get out, my mind completely blanking on me. No way in hell do I want Van to know I'd planned for a potential breakfast with him days ago. "Um...I just promised myself that I'd start eating a good breakfast every morning."
"That's a full pack of bacon," he observes dryly. "Just decide that in the last few minutes?"
"No," I say neutrally as the bacon starts to sizzle. "I bought it a few days ago. I've just not had really any time--"
"You bought it for me," he says with a firm tone.
"No, I didn't--"
His arms squeeze tight around me and his lips press into my hair. He doesn't say a word, but his message is clear.
He's thanking me for thinking of him.
"How long will that bacon take to cook?" he asks, and I recognize the husky sensual tone.
"Ten minutes if you want it crispy," I whisper as one hand drops down between my legs.
"Don't let it burn," he murmurs, tilting his head so his mouth goes to my neck. His fingers dive down the front of my panties and then I'm lost as touches me.
My head falls back to his shoulder and I try to keep my eyes pinned to the bacon. It's going to be hard, because I can tell by his soft, slow strokes he's going to draw this out. He's not going to let me come until the bacon is ready.
Blowing a gust of air back, I brace myself and hang on for the ride.
Chapter 17
Van
For the first time in my life, I feel like a crazed stalker. My eyes follow Simone as she mingles at the party, and I have an overwhelming urge to pick her up and carry her out of here. Back to the little house we share where I'll dump her in my bed and possess her.
I'm not overly worried about this feeling. I think if I'd just seen her for the first time and felt this, then yes, I'd be worried. I'd have to believe that would be some of Arco's genes rearing their ugly, sick little heads.
But it's not that. I feel this way for Simone mostly because she's given herself to me in all ways. Well, almost all ways. I could have her heart too if I demanded it, but I can't go that far. Over the weeks, I've found that not only am I absolutely carnally crazed for her, but I actually genuinely like her. The first woman after Etta that I've actually liked, and thus I have to be careful so as not to hurt her. I've already let her get way too close to me, and not only is that dangerous for her, it presents a lot of problems for me. It means that I actually might have to admit that I've got the capacity to have more, and that scares the shit out of me as much as believing I could turn out like Arco one day.
We're at Brian Brannon's house celebrating the Cold Fury's win of the eastern conference championship. We went all seven games with New Jersey, but we pulled it out in the end with a win at home last night. The Stanley Cup doesn't start for six days, so tonight it's all about partying and celebrating.
Simone and I actually rode together, deciding we could pass it off simply as roommates sharing transportation. But the minute we entered the Brannon mansion, she took off.
Probably for the best...I'm not sure I could be near her and just act like a normal mingler. I'm the least social guy on this team, but trying to do that while worrying that people might figure out that I'm crazy for her is too much stress.
So I watch her.
Like a stalker.
Right now she's talking to Gray Brannon, Brian's daughter, and our team's general manager. She's pregnant. Like really pregnant. Ready to drop any day now.
Her hand rests on her stomach, where she lovingly strokes the round curve, and I wonder if Simone wants kids. I'm not sure why that even crosses my mind, because that's not something I'd ever be interested in. The ability I would have to fuck up my kids can't be ignored.
Gray puts her other hand on Simone's shoulder, gives it a squeeze, and then moves away to mingle with other people.
As if she knew all the time exactly where I was and that I would be staring at her, Simone turns to look at me across the room. Brannon's house is huge, probably twelve thousand square feet, and the entire team and their guests can all fit easily in the great room that opens up right from the foyer.
Simone smiles at me before she takes a tiny sip of champagne. My lips curve slightly, but I move my gaze off her. I'm afraid she can see something I don't want her to see.
"What's up, man?" A large hand claps on my shoulder and I turn to see Roman Sykora standing there with his arm around a seriously pretty woman.
"Not much," I say.
"This is Lexi," Roman says, and she sticks her hand out to me. I take it and say, "Nice to meet you."
I've heard of Brian Brannon's other daughter and knew she was dating Roman, but I haven't had the chance to meet her yet. Hell, I haven't met many people outside of my teammates, just because I don't attend a lot of team functions.
But sorry, a party for winning the eastern conference championship and bringing us one step closer to the Cup...well, that was something I had to come to. I took this trade to the Cold Fury first and foremost because it was the best potential to win a cup, and I desperately wanted that under
my belt. I also took the trade offer because it would put me closer to Arco should I choose to go see him. Of course, that curiosity has been completely satisfied.
Two more players walk up and join our little group--Alex Crossman and Zack Grantham. Alex is our captain and star right winger. Zack is a second-line left winger, and interestingly enough, our leading point scorer in the series against New Jersey. He'd come off a groin injury feeling better than ever and it showed in his play.
"Cheers, fellas," Zack says as he hoists his beer. Everyone in our little group raises our respective beverages. "I expect in a few weeks we'll be doing this again. Except we'll all be drinking out of Lord Stanley's cup."
"Hear! Hear!" Lexi chirps.
Conversation then begins about what each of them wants to do with the Cup when they get a chance to have it for twenty-four hours, which is tradition when the Cup is passed to the championship team. It's probably jumping the gun to think that way, but this team is riding high on a confidence that is not misplaced at all. We're on fire.
"That was a hell of a hit you put on Thorpe last night," Alex says to me, and my gaze focuses on him.
"Thanks, man," I reply, but then I'm completely at a loss as to how to carry conversation further. I'm not good at this shit.
Oddly, I have a sudden urge to have Simone by my side, because she can talk to anyone. If we were actually dating and out to the team about it, I could stand quietly by her side and just listen as she chattered away with people.
My eyes cut past Alex to her, and I see she's looking at me with a smirk on her face. She knows this is uncomfortable for me.
Alex turns slightly and follows my gaze to where Simone is standing. If I had any common sense, I'd play it off as if I were looking at something else, but then my eyes light on Reed moving to Simone's side. He taps her on the shoulder and she turns to him, giving a bright smile of welcome.
My stomach starts tightening with what I am man enough now to admit is pure fucking jealousy. After that caveman display at Follies that night, I've realized that when I say Simone is mine, that means she's not anyone else's. That includes happy-go-lucky guys like Reed, who's a total flirt and a complete catch to a woman like Simone.