Dropping Gloves (21 page)

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Authors: Catherine Gayle

BOOK: Dropping Gloves
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She had a mole on her left shoulder, and there was a pink blemish on her skin over her right breast. I lifted my hand to touch it, tracing the scar with a fingertip. She shuddered slightly, an almost imperceptible tremor, and I looked up to meet her eyes.

“Chemo port,” she explained. “They put tons of makeup over it any time they dressed me in something where it would show on
The Cool Kids
.”

“Is it tender?”

“Not now. It itches sometimes.”

An overwhelming urge to kiss her scar hit me, so I did. I pressed my lips to the raised bit of flesh. Her breathing sharpened, her lungs lifting her breasts closer to me. Feeling bolder, I kissed her lower, slipping my tongue out to taste. Her skin was smooth as satin. The flesh of her breast was warm and pliable, giving way ever so slightly to my pressure. I kissed the other, just above the top of the lace, and could feel her heartbeat pounding as fast as mine against my lips.

“Touch me,” she said, velvety and low.

She didn’t need to ask me twice. I cupped her breast with one hand, the other dropping from her hip to explore her ass through the denim of her jeans. She was supple everywhere, soft curves and delicate dips, so different from me. Her body was hot against my hands, and she drove back into my touch, arching to push into me with a quiet sound coming from somewhere deep within her. I squeezed gently, and her nipple hardened beneath my touch.

She sucked in a breath, and I met her gaze. Her eyes had turned an intense blue, bright like flame. “More, Jamie.” She placed one hand over mine and crushed it against her. “I need more of you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Her smile was as silken as her skin. “I promise.”

She sounded so certain, but she was so small. And she was sick again. When she’d had leukemia, she’d bruised so easily I’d been afraid to do much more than hold her hand. It wasn’t leukemia this time, but I was still afraid to touch her in the ways I wanted to. She was precious to me, someone I wanted to protect. Someone I wanted to love with all the reverence and care that had been lacking in all that she’d known before.

Reaching both arms behind her back, she unclasped her bra and drew it forward. I released my hold on her, and the lace scrap dropped to the space between us. Those beautiful, perfect, intoxicating breasts jiggled for a moment before settling, still perky, and practically begging for me to kiss them. Should I? I didn’t know, but she’d licked and sucked on my nipple, so it only seemed fair. She drew her arms free from the straps and tossed the bra behind her, but I couldn’t look anywhere but at those orbs of softness.

Katie leaned forward, and I froze, unsure what she was doing. She grabbed the can of whipped cream, sprayed some on her breast…and then everything happened at warp speed. I couldn’t think anymore. I closed my mouth over her, sucking up the cream and rasping my tongue over her tit. It just got harder, bigger, swelling under my ministrations. She fisted a hand in my hair and put more cream on her other breast, and I greedily lapped it up as she held me to her.

Her breathing was shallow and frantic. The heartbeat thundering behind her ribs was loud enough it almost echoed through the room. She ground her hips into me, heat building upon heat, and then shouted, “Ah!”

I reared back, instantly concerned. “Too much?” I should have trusted my gut. I was being too rough with her. Hurting her.

But she locked both hands in my hair and kissed me so hard, so desperately, that I forgot all about anything but kissing her back. I ran my hands over her back, her sides, her arms, trying to memorize every minute detail. When she came up for air, she said, “Take me to bed, Jamie. I want to be with you.”

No need for a second invitation. I was on my feet, Katie in my arms with her legs wrapped around my waist, in about two seconds flat.

“Don’t step on Blackbeard,” Katie said. She put her arms around my neck, helping to hold her weight.

I glanced down to gauge where he was and took a different path around the coffee table.

“And condoms. We need the condoms.”

Right. Condoms. Good thing Katie was capable of thinking about things like protection, because that ability had left me the moment she’d removed her shirt. I made a detour through the kitchen, slowing down long enough that Katie could grab the plastic shopping bag off the counter, and then headed down the hall. As soon as we reached my bedroom, I flipped on the light and kicked the door closed behind us, because I didn’t want another repeat of what had happened earlier with Blackbeard trying to help out, and set Katie on her feet.

She tossed the bag on the bed and started stripping off her skintight jeans right away. She still had shoes on, though, so I was able to whip my pants down and kick them to the corner of the room before she finished. I grabbed the bag, dug out the first box I laid my hands on—“Not the flavored ones,” she said, still struggling with her jeans—glanced down to see that I’d grabbed the wrong box, tossed it back, and dragged out the next one I found. I tore open the lid and fumbled for a foil packet. By the time I’d ripped it open with my teeth and unrolled it over myself, Katie had gotten free of her jeans.

She slid to the center of the bed, reaching out a hand to me. Nerves turning my legs to jelly, I had to sit down unless I wanted to make a fool of myself and fall on the floor. She touched my arm as soon as I sat, tugging until I relented and lay beside her. I tried to remember how to breathe as my skin met hers.

Every inch of her body was as silken as her breasts. I locked my gaze with hers and trailed my fingertips down the center of her chest to her belly. Her muscles jumped to life beneath my touch.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, straining to form words. Hell, I was straining to form coherent thoughts. I knew
I
was sure. I’d wanted Katie for years, and now, with her lying here beside me, I could hardly believe it was happening.

“Yes. I want you, Jamie. I want to be with you now, before I have to deal with radiation and chemo and surgery again, before I feel like crap all the time. I want to feel you inside me. To experience this with you without anything else in the way. I want this.”

Even hearing her words and knowing them for the truth, I still couldn’t seem to make the next move. There was a part of me that wanted to freeze this moment in time and make it last forever. Maybe I was putting off taking the next step because I knew at some point it would come to an end. Maybe I didn’t want to face what would come afterward because the future was a giant mass of uncertainty.

Katie must have sensed my hesitation. She took my hand from her belly and edged it lower until my fingers skimmed the liquid heat of her curls. “Touch me,” she said again. “I’m ready. I love you, and I want this. I want to experience this with a man I love and respect, and who loves and respects me, too.”

So I touched her. I slipped a finger through the slick folds of her flesh. She lifted a knee and moved it to the side, opening herself to my exploration. I found a nub near the top of her private place and traced circles around it. She gasped and moved her hips to meet me.

“Good?” I asked.

She bit her lip and nodded. “That’s my clit.”

I might not be experienced in the bedroom, but even I knew enough about female anatomy to realize I’d just struck gold. I concentrated my efforts on that small spot, varying my pressure and changing up the tempo until her eyes went unfocused and she couldn’t hold still. She had to be close to orgasm.

“Move lower,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”

So I lowered my hand, keeping my thumb on her clit, until I found her entrance. She was so soft and wet, and my finger slipped inside without any resistance. Katie moaned and bucked her hips, driving my finger deeper. I added another, shocked at the sensation of having her flesh surrounding me, accepting me, clutching to keep me in.

“Jamie,” she rasped, and I glanced up to meet her gaze.

She hooked a hand under my shoulder, tugging gently until I came up above her. I braced my weight on my arms on either side of her, and she opened her thighs wider to allow room for me to nestle between them. My cock was straining to reach her, as though it had a mind of its own and could sense the proximity of her pussy.

With a gentle scrape of her nails, Katie moved her hands down my back, stopping when they were on my ass. She gripped my cheeks hard, drawing me closer, even as she locked her legs with mine. “Please.” Just one word. Almost inaudible and full of need.

I held my weight on one arm and used the other hand to guide myself inside her. She took me completely, stretching to accommodate my size but fitting as tight as a glove. She squeezed my ass again and shifted, and then primal instinct took over.

My forehead against hers, eye to eye and nose to nose, we moved together until she clenched me tighter and let out an unintelligible shout. Every muscle in her body had been tensing, clasping, reaching for this moment, and now they all gave way in the sweetest, most exquisite explosion imaginable, like a coil releasing. I kissed her, increasing my pace until I came, too, wrapped up in her love.

“I don’t think I could ever love you more than I do right now,” I murmured, my nose buried in her hair that was splayed over my pillows.

She relaxed her legs so they were tangled with mine but not holding me in place, and she ran her fingers through my hair, her nails scraping my scalp in an oddly comforting manner. “Why do you love me?” she asked.

Why did I love her? Talk about a complicated question. I let it roll around in my head before propping myself up on my elbows and looking down at her. “I love you because I don’t know how to not love you. Because I can’t imagine my world without you, and I don’t ever want to have to face that again. Because you are sweetness and light and life, and you see me as the man I could be, not as the man I am.”

Katie shook her head. “You are that man. You just haven’t learned how to see yourself that way.”

I rolled off her, drawing her along with me to hold against my side. “You make me want to be better than I am,” I said gruffly. Then I couldn’t seem to stop kissing her. Every time I thought I was done, she would smile again, or her eyes would take on this lazy, sated look, and I would have to kiss her again. I kissed her hair, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to bottle this moment and the way we both felt right now so we could return to it whenever life got to be too much to bear.

Because that was coming. She knew it and I knew it.

I had never been the praying sort, but I said a silent prayer right now. We’d had this one perfect moment; I asked for it not to be the last.

 

 

 

I ended up
spending the night with Jamie instead of going home. He let me sleep in a pair of his boxers and a T-shirt that were easily two or three sizes too big for me, but at least I didn’t have to go back over to my place to find anything. Once we had cleaned up and were fairly sure there wouldn’t be any more sexy times for the night, Jamie had opened the door and let Blackbeard join us.

As tiny as he was, that kitten didn’t have any problems at all getting into the bed on his own. Not that either of us found that surprising, considering the way he was always climbing up to Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie slept on his back, one arm holding me to him. I used his chest as my pillow, and Blackbeard nestled in the space between Jamie’s neck and shoulder, hanging out above my head. None of us moved a muscle the whole night, it seemed, until sometime after dawn, when Blackbeard started chewing on my hair and attacking it as if it were his feather toy.

Needless to say, I woke up laughing.

Jamie jerked awake, stretching once the initial shock wore off. “He should be eating my hair instead of yours.”

“Not a chance in hell I’d go for that.”

“Hmm.” He rolled his head to the side and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “Morning came way too early today.”

I felt a tiny bit guilty since I’d been the one to keep him up later than he should have been when he had a game the next night, but not too guilty. “You already have to get up?” I asked, yawning and snuggling closer to him. I wasn’t ready to let go of the flawlessness of the night.

“I’ve got a meeting with the coaches before morning skate.” He inched out from under me, despite my pouting, and Blackbeard let out a whining sound that suited my mood perfectly. “What are you doing today?”

I blinked at him, still trying to wake up. The sun streaming in through the windows lit him in a golden glow. He’d only put on a pair of boxers before we’d gone to bed, so I could see every detail of the muscles my hands had explored last night. That only made me want to do some more exploration, though, and it was going to have to wait if he had to leave for a meeting soon.

I frowned, not ready to move yet, and Blackbeard came down from the pillow and circled a couple of times before curling up in the bend of my elbow. I drew him closer to me, nuzzling my nose against his. Then I regretted it, because he yawned right in my face. His fur might smell sweet, but his breath left a lot to be desired. “I guess I’ll go shopping for some art to put on my walls this morning,” I said. “Mom wants to have lunch. Then I’ve got that appointment with the radiation team in the afternoon before coming to the game.” I hadn’t wanted to think about my upcoming meeting with the doctors. I’d rather just forget all about that, pretend I was perfectly healthy and didn’t need to go through this again, but I doubted anyone would let me get away with it.

“You’re coming to the game, then?” He stretched his arms over his head, pulling them from side to side to work the kinks out. Probably also in an effort to hide the hint of a blush and the way his dimples had come out. I guessed that meant he wanted me to be at the game, even if he didn’t want to show it.

“Unless you’d rather I didn’t,” I said. “I might not be able to come to games once I start radiation.” For that matter, I might not be able to be around Jamie and Blackbeard much for a while. It depended on what type of radiation they’d settled on, but some types of therapy would leave
me
radioactive for a while. I really hoped I didn’t have to go through that. Some of the other kids in the cancer center when I’d been treated before had been stuck in the hospital, isolated, for a week or more at a time. Others were allowed to go home, but they’d had to limit their contact with the people they loved and couldn’t be around children or animals. I didn’t know if I could handle that kind of treatment plan right now. I forced myself to stop thinking along those lines. No point in worrying until they gave me something to worry about. “I don’t know if you’d rather we took some time letting people in on the idea that we’re together now…”

With all the talk, Blackbeard was starting to get a spurt of energy. Instead of snuggling with me, he was chasing his tail, racing so fast that he was making me dizzy.

Jamie shook his head. “Pretty sure all the guys already know after you came along for dinner with Razor last night. I don’t care if anyone knows. I’ll even call my mom and tell her if you think word might get out publicly soon.”

My heartbeat kicked up a notch, now that he was already thinking about telling his mother about me. This was what I’d wanted, of course—for us to really be an official couple—but to have it happening so fast along with all the other changes in my life was leaving my head spinning as fast as Blackbeard.

“If we were in LA,” I said, trying to keep my excitement in check, “I’d tell you to call her on your way to the rink. No paparazzi here to worry about, though. Tell her when you’re ready for her to know.”

A memory from a few years ago hit me and caused a brief twinge—news about Cam Johnson and Sara Thomas being an item getting back to Jonny’s sisters in Canada before the two of them were ready for anyone to know—but this was different. That was at a point when Jonny and the whole team were surrounded by a ton of controversy, so the media had been hounding them. There was no reason to think that any of the hockey media would latch on to this right now.

“Go shower,” I said, brushing that thought aside. “Want me to make you breakfast?” It was only fair, after all. Jamie had cooked for me a couple of times now.

He grinned. “I would love for you to make me breakfast.” He bent over me on the bed and gave me a peck on the cheek.

Then I remembered how he went about his cooking. “Do you own any pots and pans, or…”

“Nope. Just small pans that’ll fit in the toaster oven. Need me to help?”

I waved him toward the bathroom. “I’ll figure it out.” And I would probably do that by going back to my house and dragging some of my new pans back with me so I could christen them and his stove.

Jamie didn’t hurry off to shower, though. He gave me a solid kiss, this time, shoving Blackbeard to the side and settling himself over me, nearly pinning me to the mattress. He took his time about it, too, leaving us both breathless and wanting more.

“You could come and shower with me,” he said hopefully when he finally came up for air.

“I could.” I laughed. “Not sure Bergy would be too thrilled with you if you’re late, though.”

“Probably not the best idea, huh?”

“Probably not.” This time. We could save that for another day.

I couldn’t stop
thinking about Katie all day even though I didn’t get to see her. I had my leadership meeting with the coaches, morning skate, a media scrum, a film session, lunch with the boys, and my afternoon nap before I had to head up to the arena for the game. She’d been at her doctor’s appointment when I got home for my nap, and she’d left me a text message saying she would meet me in the owner’s box once I arrived, and that she loved me. Nothing more. No word about what the doctors had told her. Needless to say, I was on edge from the moment I saw that message until I got to the arena.

Usually I headed straight for the locker room so I could get started on my pregame routine. The other guys often stopped by to see their wives and girlfriends and kids before getting ready for the game, or they dropped off friends and family from out of town to be sure they were well looked after. I didn’t often have someone here, though. I couldn’t help but feel nervous as I made my way up the elevator to the suite level.

“Hey, if it ain’t Captain JB,” said Davey Hearne as I walked up, holding out a hand. He was one of the regular security guys at the Moda Center. He’d been working here since they’d built the place, apparently, and during Storm games, he worked at the owner’s box, making sure no one entered who didn’t have clearance.

I shook his hand. “Hey, Davey. Is Katie Weber here yet?” I poked my head through the door to look around.

“Sitting up front with her mama.”

The room was already jam-packed with not only the guys’ wives and girlfriends but their kids, too. Tons of kids of every age, along with all the noise you expect with a veritable nursery. I couldn’t see Katie through the mass of toys and toddlers, but if Davey said she was up front, then that was where I intended to go. Not that I had a clue how to get through the maze in front of me.

I thanked him and headed in, and Connor Johnson immediately toddled over to grab my leg. I picked him up because it was easier than trying to walk with a massive growth on the top of my foot, and I assumed Sara would be with Katie and Laura, anyway.

He put a hand on the side of my face, turning me to look at him, his expression as serious as a heart attack. “Razor is a asswipe.”

I didn’t laugh this time, but that took a gargantuan effort on my part. I tried to look as serious as he did. “Is he? And who told you that?” I asked, cautiously making my way through the room to avoid stepping on any children or toys. I wasn’t going to argue with the little guy on that score. I’d called Razor an ass and worse so many times myself that Connor might have picked it up from me without me realizing it.

“My mommy.”

“I see.” So maybe I was in the clear. I hoped for Sara’s sake that Jonny hadn’t heard the latest from his son, though. He might go ballistic on her, not that he would ever hurt her. They would just argue, which would cause her stress, and that was not something she needed right now. She’d had two miscarriages before, and carrying Connor hadn’t been easy for her, either. She’d spent almost two months confined to bed rest with him. This pregnancy was the only easy one of the bunch, not that it had been easy, but I doubted it would help anything if they got into another argument over something like Connor picking up on bad language. “How about we don’t say that in front of the other kids, okay?”

He pouted at me, but he said, “’Kay ’kay.”

Soupy and Rachel’s twin two-year-old daughters were camped out on the floor with their dolls right in the middle of the aisle I was trying to traverse. They weren’t identical, but close to it, with Rachel’s bright red hair and a smattering of freckles everywhere you looked. I stepped high to go over them, but I felt little hands grab on, and they giggled. I cautiously put my foot down, and then they each claimed a leg to ride.

Before I’d settled on how I would get out of this mess, their older half brother, Tuck, came up to me. I loved this kid. He had the same hair, same freckles, but a devious streak that would rival Connor’s, but in a ten-year-old’s body.

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