Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
He kisses me again, and then he rolls off the bed without another look at me. As I watch him head to the bathroom to clean up, I can’t help but wonder what is holding him back. Surely he knows I’m nothing like his mother. That I wouldn’t hurt him even if I could. That we fit together like we were made in the stars just for each other. That if we were in a romance novel, we’d be fated mates. At least, that’s how it feels after being on the receiving end of his attention. Maybe I’m just in the afterglow, fully sated for the time being. Though, I can’t help but want more. I want all of Coleson Katz, every single part, but I don’t know if he’ll allow that to happen.
Surely I can find a way to change his mind about making this marriage not fake at all.
But real instead and all ours.
CHAPTER 23
Coleson
The crowd is electric as I haul ass up the ice.
All the tickets were free tonight for the last preseason game before the regular season starts. Everyone is decked out in orange and black, and they’re chanting, “Let’s go Bears.” I love it, and with each chant, I feel a bolt of energy to score for the fans. They’ve come out with bells and whistles, and I want them to be proud of their home team. As I battle in front of the goal with the defensemen from the IceMen, I watch as our defensemen pass the puck back and forth. Evangelina is trying to find an opening, while Andrews is posted up in the right circle. Walther, our defenseman, can’t get the puck to either of us because of the coverage by the other team.
I push off the defenseman I’m battling and skate to the middle. Walther sends the puck to me, and I redirect it to Andrews with ease—and much to his coverage’s surprise. The puck hits his blade with precision. Andrews dekes left, passing the puck ahead and ultimately to himself. It’s just him and the goalie, and when he goes top shelf, the goal lamp lights up. I throw my hands up, as do the rest of the boys, while the crowd loses their damn minds. We skate to Andrews, hugging and tapping gloves, though, as always, Andrews doesn’t even acknowledge me.
Bastard.
He’s making my life really hard lately, and it’s fucking annoying. He tries to act like things are good in front of Coach, but he is still very standoffish with me. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t communicate, but he’ll pass the puck if he absolutely has to. I’m trying to be patient and understanding, given the fact that I know I fucked up. I know I hurt him and his best friend. If I had a best friend, I’m sure I would act the same. But I think, on the ice, I would leave it all behind me. Andrews does no such thing, and it’s driving me crazy, especially when I have enough to deal with.
I can still taste my wife on my lips.
I can still hear myself moaning her name.
Eliza.
I don’t know why I did that. I have done so well calling her McDavid or, now, my wife. Because her name… Fuck me, I love her name. I have never been so taken by a name, but when she introduced herself to me for the first time, the sound of her voice, the way her lips formed her name, hit me square in the chest. I knew repeating it would be dangerous. I’d like saying it too much, and next thing you know, I’d find myself feeling something. It’s so precious, so beautiful, and fits her to a tee. Every time I think it or say it, I get this warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest, and I don’t know why. That’s why I went with McDavid. Her first name makes me feel like it belongs on my lips, and after moaning it the way I did, I know my reluctance to say her name has merit.
I have to be careful.
And I sure as fuck can’t sleep with her again.
It has taken everything out of me not to touch her, to kiss her, to devour that sweet pussy of hers at every waking moment. I’ve woken up with her legs tangled in mine and my cock standing at attention against her ass. I know she felt it since she wiggled that sweet ass against me. I hightailed it out of that bed so fucking quickly, it was embarrassing. Pathetic. Goddammit, why couldn’t I resist her? Why did I allow myself to taste her, to hear her moan my name, to feel her squeeze my cock to within an inch of its life?
I am a fucking idiot.
But fuck me if I don’t want her more than I want my next goal.