Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

“They say its thirty hours a week, but I did their short course in pastry and it was twice as many hours as they claimed in the brochures.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll work when I can, nights and weekends, I guess. It’s going to be tight. I’d planned on working a solid week before I started so I had some cash on hand, but…” she moved a little south, kissing his chest and rocking her hips against his erection. “I’ll get by.”

“I have no doubt.” His biggest doubts now were about him getting by once she was gone.

He shampooed her hair, then shut off the water and wrapped her in a towel. When he picked her up, Olivia crossed her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips and kissed him the way she always did, with all of herself. All her passion, all her affection. And Tate didn’t want to go back to living without it.

He laid her on the bed, hovering over her with so many emotions pushing and pulling at him, he didn’t know what to do with them all. He felt desperate and needy. After just two weeks she’d invaded his heart. A heart he’d begun to think was dead.

“What’s going on inside your brain?” she asked, easing her hand between them and stroking his length. “I see you thinking.”

Pleasure swamped his lower body and Tate clenched his teeth. “Just about how good it feels to have your hands on me.”

“That’s not the look I saw. Do you regret it?”

Fiery tension coiled at the base of his spine. “What?”

“This? Us? Getting involved? With the time for me leaving is getting closer?”

She rubbed the head of his cock over her sweet folds and arched a little, taking him inside. Tate’s breath exited on a whoosh. He held her gaze and rocked his hips, sliding inside her. Heat and warmth and softness surrounded him and his eyes fell closed on a groan. He pushed deeper, tipping his head back, closing his eyes to soak in the perfection of her. Of how badly he wanted to hold onto it.

Deep inside her, he opened his eyes to hers again. Lifted one hand to stroke her face. “I could never regret you.”

She pushed up and kissed him. Wrapping a hand around his neck, a thigh around his, she rolled him to his back. With her hands against his chest, she pushed up and used those toned legs and tight abs to rock them both until they were panting.

Tate sat up. Supporting himself with one arm, he wrapped the other around her back and covered her breast with his mouth. Trailed kisses up to her mouth and cupped her head to circle his tongue with hers.

This was a whole different type of sex. Slow and deep, Every move calculated on both sides to give pleasure, to express affection, to show, without words, how much they cared. Tate felt it deep in his soul.

“Tate…” She whispered his name against his lips, as if she wanted to tell him something.

“Right here, Livvy,” he murmured, kissing her neck, pulling her hips into his. “I’ll always be right here for you.”

She made a whimpering sound, locked an arm around his neck and pushed her other hand against his knee, giving her leverage to lift into him. Tate watched her orgasm rise in the pleasure tightening her face.

He needed her looking in his eyes when she came. Needed that connection. Needed her to remember the pleasure between them.

“Liv.” He cupped her cheek and pulled her head to his. “Open your eyes.” His own orgasm was close and he ground his teeth to hold it off. “Look at me, baby. Look into my eyes.”

Within seconds of her gaze locking with Tate’s, Olivia’s pussy clenched around him, her head fell back and her mouth fell open on a cry.

Tate pulled her mouth to his, plunged his tongue deep, tasting her release before his own ripped though him. He buried his face against her neck and cried her name as it rocked his foundation and Olivia wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

Olivia lifted Tate’s arm, draped over her waist, and slowly slid from bed, gently laying his arm down. She stood there, watching him sleep with her arms crossed, the fingernail of her thumb between her teeth, her heart tripping all over the place.

This was a problem.

Worse, it was a problem she had no experience with. One she’d never believed would happen to her and one she didn’t know how to fix.

Tate shifted in sleep, rolling a little further onto his back. His white sheets slipped a little further off his glorious body, displaying one muscular thigh and calf. But what Olivia couldn’t tear her gaze from was his face. How calm and peaceful he looked in sleep.

Her chest constricted again with a strength that made her pull in her breath and hold it.

Oh yeah, this was a big problem.

She squeezed her eyes closed and whispered, “Fuck.”