Caged (Gold Hockey #11) - Elise Faber Page 0,51

while he’d skated. Instead, she should have been prepping for the game, not mooning over him.

He sat down across from her, took her hand. “How could I not?” A squeeze. “How could I not notice you?”

Dani melted into a puddle of goo.

Either that or she fell a little bit more in love with him.

Then he lifted the silver cover on the plate between them, and there was no doubt, she’d plummeted into love with this man.

Chapter Eighteen

Ethan

The Lyft deposited them outside the hotel lobby, and he felt a kind of peace he’d not experienced before as they walked inside and headed for the elevators.

He would have liked it better had they been going up to a room they shared, but for now, he rode the elevator to her floor, walked her to her door, and stole several more kisses.

She threaded her fingers into his belt loops, tugged him close. “Come inside.”

Ah, a statement that could be taken so many ways.

Alas, they were still riding First Date vibes, so he said goodnight.

Then went down to his room, jerked off, and fell headlong into sleep.

The knock on his door in the morning was unwelcome, but he stumbled to the peephole, stared through it . . . and suddenly, it was a lot more welcome.

He pulled open the wooden panel. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, knowing his voice was raspy.

Her eyes went wide, and Ethan watched her throat work as she swallowed. “I—”

“You okay?”

Her gaze slid down, a heated, tangible thing that had him remembering he was only wearing boxer briefs. When her stare stayed down, he allowed his own gaze to drop, saw that he was sporting some intense morning wood, even more than normal considering the need for this woman that was a fire coursing through his veins.

“I—I’m—”

Warm hands on his chest.

Warm hands shoving him—not gently. He was so surprised, he stumbled back several paces, and then the door was slamming closed, and Dani was launching herself into his arms.

And her mouth was on his.

Flames bursting to life, coating his skin, burning him to ash.

A warm, curvy woman against him, her hands stroking every inch of him as she continued shoving him, forcing him to retreat . . . until the backs of his legs hit the bed.

He tumbled onto the mattress, his hands coming around her hips, drawing her over him, her thighs straddling his. “Ethan?” she murmured.

Her hands were on his skin, on his naked skin. Her pussy hot and damp even through his underwear and the black leggings she wore.

“Yeah?” he replied gruffly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“No,” he admitted. “I’m not okay.”

She drifted closer. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m trying to remember that we’ve only gone on one date,” he said.

“And?” she asked, when he didn’t say anything else.

“And I’m trying to remember that, so I don’t strip you naked, flip us over, and get my mouth between those fucking gorgeous thighs of yours.”

Her breath shuddered out. Then she inhaled sharply. “Ethan?” she asked again on the next exhale.

“Yeah?” he said again.

“Do you really want to do that?”

He moved, an abrupt action that he seemingly had no control over, snagging her hand, tugging it down until it rested against the hard jut of his erection currently tenting the front of his underwear. “I’m fucking desperate to do that,” he said, groaning when her fingers convulsed. “But I also know that we’re just starting to get to know each other and—”

His words faltered.

Because she reared back and yanked her shirt over her head. Then reached behind her, unhooked her bra . . .

And let it fall to the floor.

“Yes, please,” she said.

“Y-yes”—he choked—“please?”

“Yes, I want you to take me, to strip me.” A beat, her lips turning up. “Well, the rest of me, and—”

Words failed him, but luckily action didn’t. He flipped them, slanted his mouth across hers, cutting her off, knowing that if she uttered another sexy request, he was very likely to come in his boxer briefs. Aware that if she kept talking, he was going to lose control and forget he didn’t have a fucking condom. Because she was topless and her breast were . . . fucking incredible, so much more glorious than he’d imagined—and he’d imagined a whole hell of a lot.

It would be so easy for him to lose his underwear, to yank off her leggings, and then he could be plunging home and—

Her lips found his, and they rolled on the mattress, his body pressing into hers, hers pressing into his, until eventually he managed