not for the reason she thought. “I liked where I was. They were my team.”
Understanding ebbed into her expression and she nodded slowly. “And you’ve been with the Glaciers since you left Harvard. That’s unusual in today’s sports environment.”
“I’ve been lucky.” He tried to shrug her observation off, but her headshake said she wasn’t buying it.
“Six years with the same team. Three different contracts and no trades. It could be luck. Or it could be your determination to stay with this family.”
And she got it in one. But then, it hadn’t been that hard to figure out, given all he’d shared with her.
He ducked his head, unsure if it was embarrassment or shame that rolled in his stomach. “For someone who doesn’t like hockey, you know a lot about it,” he grumbled.
She prodded his chin up until he met her gaze. “I never said I didn’t like hockey. I’ve been surrounded by it my entire life.” A smile softened the hint of exasperation in her words. “I’m just not obsessed with it. Or I wasn’t until I met you.” The playful lilt helped to settle his nerves. She wasn’t judging him.
“So you’re a fan now?”
She wrinkled her nose, dropped a kiss on his lips. “Maybe of one player.”
Warmth flamed hot and welcoming into his heart. Jacqui was beyond everything he’d dared to think he could have. Above him in so many ways that counted more than her bank balance or lineage.
“Yeah?” He drew her in until she pitched into him. “Do I know this guy you’re interested in?” Her throaty chuckle bounced over his lips before he closed his mouth on hers. He found her heated depths immediately, sought her taste and pulled it in. Sweet and dark. Warm and giving. So goddamn giving it overwhelmed and buried him.
She nudged his shoulders, and he slid down, head coming to rest on the arm of the couch. She settled over him, the kiss deepening until he was lost in everything her. Her flowery scent and soft hair that fell down to caress his arm. Her possessive touch that drove him crazy and had him willingly surrendering to her.
He cradled the back of her head and pushed up to claim her more. To find the heart of her so he could keep it with him.
Her tongue swirled with his, pushed back then disappeared behind the sharp bite of her teeth. The pain shot across his lip, stung as she licked over it, left soft pecks to soothe it. His groan was rough with emotion, heart drumming so hard he was certain she felt it.
God. What she did to him.
Was this what love could be like? What more was like?
He had no idea, only vague expectations based on watching other people. Of seeing what his friends had found while he’d stumbled in the dark.
He gripped her bottom and ground his hips against her. His hardening dick rolled over her abdomen in a game of foreplay that fired his groin and ignited his desire.
His lungs were begging for air when she reared back with a gasping inhale. Her chest heaved over his, warm air blasting his cheek. Her gaze bored into him, hunting and searching for things he didn’t understand but wanted to learn.
She was so tender yet strong, a contradiction he relished. Needed, even.
Slowly, she sat back to loom over him in a position he’d quickly come to favor. Her sweater showed off her full breasts and thin waist without being revealing, the high neck more enticing than any cleavage plunging display.
She skimmed her fingers down his jaw, over his upper lip, sadness easing into her dark eyes to chill his passion. His heart clenched and he grabbed her wrist to lower her hand.
“What?” he asked, concern deepening his voice.
She sucked in a hitched breath, blew it out then slowly removed her sweater. He tracked each inch of skin as it was revealed. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the cups of her bra, and he slid his hands up her sides, only to be stopped by her firm hold on his wrists.
His eyes snapped up, freezing at her hesitant fear before it was forced behind the hard determination he’d seen before.
She released his wrists to trace the faded line of the scar about two inches wide midway between her collarbone and the upper curve of her right breast. The scar she’d been so sensitive about before.
Confusion crushed in to press on his chest. What was he missing?
“This is my chemo port scar.”