asked.
Olivia nodded. “It’s eleven o’clock, Anders.”
He shook his head. “I forget sometimes how late it gets because this is just my life during the season. Normally, I don’t get to bed for another hour.”
“And tonight?” She looked at him through those thick lashes of hers.
There was something about Olivia’s eyes, her expression when she thought about or talked about sex. There was a shyness to it that called to every instinct in him.
“Tonight, right now sounds perfect.”
He took her hand and led her up the stairs to his room.
Fuck.
How many times had he thought about another night with Olivia? Another night where they could play and explore and fuck how he wanted to. And how many mornings had he woken up alone, wondering what it would be like to wake with Olivia in his arms?
In between the morning skate and his nap, he’d researched ways to help a woman orgasm. His search history would be fucked forever, but it was worth it. It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable with his skills in the bedroom, it was that he wanted to be certain he did everything he could to make sure Olivia was taken care of.
The most important advice he’d read was to communicate frequently and slow everything down.
When he entered the bedroom, he led her to the bed and sat her down on the edge. “Remember when I last took off your hiking boots and leggings?” he said, removing the black boots and socks she’d worn. “I remember thinking how soft your skin was, how I couldn’t wait for you to be pressed up against me again.”
Olivia placed her hand on his beard. “I loved the feel of you against me yesterday.”
Anders pushed her down on the bed like he’d done the previous evening, loving the way her laughter filled his room. Yeah. Sex should be playful and fun and serious and deep and every conceivable positive emotion in between.
“It just dawned on me,” Olivia said as he reached for her zipper. “We’ve been using baseball metaphors when we should have been using hockey ones.”
Anders grinned as he lowered her jeans down her legs. “There are none, and don’t ask me to think of any when I can see black lace and a whole lot of you.” He left the jersey on.
For now.
Her hair spilled gloriously over his white sheets. The tender smile on her face stopped his heart for a moment. All that soft skin he was going to get to touch was currently covered by a jersey with his name on it. Sure, it was primal but he didn’t care.
Olivia squeezed her thighs together and he got the impression she felt the same.
Anticipation, he’d read, was its own aphrodisiac, so he took his time hanging his jacket, removing his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt. There were times he wished the hockey league didn’t insist they wore suits to and from games, but tonight wasn’t one of them. He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks.
“It strikes me that you personify both parts of being a man, Anders,” Olivia said as she propped herself on her elbows. She raised her knees slightly and the hockey jersey slipped up her thighs. From his vantage point, he could see her panties, and damn, if the peekaboo show didn’t turn him on.
“In what way?” He slipped his belt through its belt loops and wrapped it around his hand before placing it in the drawer. He tugged the shirt down his arms and tossed it into the laundry basket by the door. When he turned to face her, she was staring at him, not that he minded. “Liv?”
“Oh, right. Yes. Sorry. Well, you look all civilized and restrained in your suit, like a man you could take home to your family, who would use his manners at the dinner table. And then, on the ice. You were very . . . I don’t know . . . Neanderthal. A bit savage. Fearless.” The last word came out on a whisper.
He dropped his suit pants, leaving his boxer briefs on. After he’d hung them, he joined her on the bed. He crawled right up in her space until he was almost lying on her before flipping them over, so she lay on top of him. He slid his hand beneath the jersey and ran his palm over her ass.
“Which do you prefer, Liv?” His hand tangled in her hair as he held her an inch away from his lips.
She studied him for a