Must Love Dogs...and Hockey

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Must Love Dogs...and Hockey Page 13

by Kelly Jamieson


  We step into the master bathroom—more gray and black. The shower is huge, with white and gray marble tile walls and all glass on the front. Easton opens the door to reach in to turn on the water. He sets my sweater on the counter and turns to face me as he unbuttons his shirt. I undo the button of my jeans and lower the zipper, then work them down over my hips. He watches me shimmy my hips with a hot expression. In seconds, we’re both naked and steam is rising in the shower enclosure.

  He sets his hands on my hips and guides me inside the shower ahead of him.

  “This is nice.” I gesture at the two shower heads, the rain one above us and the handheld one mounted on the wall.

  “I love my shower.” He closes the door and moves up behind me. I feel his body heat radiating off him, and when his skin brushes mine, I tingle everywhere. “It even has a sex seat.” He waves at the small tiled bench at one end.

  “I think I’d use it for shaving my legs.”

  “I haven’t tried that.”

  I laugh softly, tipping my head back against his shoulder. He nudges me under the warm spray of water and reaches for a bottle of bodywash in a tiled niche. With his hands soaped up, he glides them over my body. “Christ, that feels good.” He tests the weight of my breasts, then slides his hands over them. “Soapy tits are the fucking best.” He squeezes one and slips his other hand down between my legs. Sensation ricochets through my body at his touch.

  I lay my hands flat on the tile wall while he plays with and nuzzles my wet hair and ear, kisses my shoulder and back. My thighs are shaking, and a melting sweetness pools low inside me.

  His hand glides up from my breast to my throat, cupping it so gently and tilting my head way back so he can find my mouth with his and kiss me. I open to him immediately, letting his tongue enter my mouth and lick mine, a low moan rising in my chest. With his big, hard body pressed to my back, I nearly swoon.

  We wash each other, teasing and tormenting ourselves with lingering touches in intimate places, watching each other’s faces in the haze of steam until I’m vibrating and aching with need.

  “I don’t have a condom,” he groans into the side of my neck as I stroke his cock. “Want me to go…?”

  “No. We can do something else.” I move to the bench and sit.

  His eyelids grow heavy as he watches me prop my heels onto the bench and slip my fingers into my pussy. “Jesus.” His hand moves to his cock.

  “Yes…do that.” I study his body and Christ on a bike, he’s so sexy. His wide shoulders and chest taper down to a narrow waist and hips, his abs ridges of packed muscle and his obliques a defined V. His big hand on his cock makes my pussy squeeze and ache even more. I watch him draw his hand slowly down his length and off, his cock springing up. The big muscles in his thighs bulge as he leans his upper body against the glass wall, his hips canted out, his calf muscles like sculpted stone.

  I’m out of the spray of water, which is good because I don’t want to wash away the lubrication my arousal has produced. I tip my head back and sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I focus on the sensations building inside me, coiling tighter, higher, twisting inside me in a fiery spiral, my fingers moving quicker over my clit.

  “That is so hot,” Easton groans.

  “Yes…”

  His hand moves faster, his other cupping his balls.

  “I’m coming.” The orgasm seizes my body, embarrassing, inarticulate noises spilling from my mouth.

  “Fuck, yeah.” Easton pushes away from the wall and takes two steps toward me, his face taut and intense, his eyes blazing. His hand pumps in a blur, and then he comes too, shouting as his cum lands on my belly. I’m dying, this is so hot, watching this.

  His hand slows, giving a few final strokes to his still-hard shaft. I trail my fingers through the ejaculate on my stomach and he lets out a low, feral groan. Then he reaches out for my hands and pulls me up to standing, drawing me back under the shower of water, holding me as he rinses me, then wraps his arms around me. I grip his shoulders because my legs are still unsteady, and we sway together in our tight embrace for a few minutes as we recover.

  “Holy shit,” he mumbles against my hair. He pulls back and gazes down at me, then cups my face with both hands. “You’re amazing.”

  “I’m waterlogged.”

  He chokes out a laugh. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” He cranks off the water, opens the door, and reaches out for a thick towel hanging on a hook. He wraps it around me, then helps me step out. Still naked himself, he grabs another towel and steps behind me to rub my hair with it. The sensation of gentle tugging on my scalp has lethargy running through my veins. Okay, it could be the orgasm too.

  I fumble with the towel around my body to dry off as he dries himself off and follow him into the bedroom. I eye the bed longingly. Otis is curled up at one end of it. Oh hell. I’m doing it. I take a few steps and face-plant onto the mattress. It’s heaven. Firm but cushiony, the duvet poufy, and I bury my nose in it to breathe in Easton’s scent. Otis bounds up toward me and starts snuffling around my face.

  With a soft laugh, Easton follows me down onto the bed. “Time for a nap, gorgeous?”

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I mumble.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He chuckles. “You’re right. Go to sleep. It’s Sunday and we don’t have to do anything. I’ll order food.”

  I pull Otis up against me, close my eyes, and drift off.

  * * *

  —

  We eat breakfast in bed—waffles with strawberry compote, bacon, and fried potatoes, washing it down with orange juice and delicious coffee. We have to lock Otis out of the room, though, because he keeps helping himself to the food. My heart breaks at the sound of him crying outside the door and I can tell Easton doesn’t like it either. Eventually, Otis goes quiet.

  “Tell me about your family,” I say as I fork up a strawberry. “You said it’s just your mom back in Regina?”

  His face tightens and I immediately feel his disquiet. “Yeah. That’s right.”

  I wait, not wanting to push it, because I sense he’s not eager to talk about it.

  “My dad and my brother died,” he says flatly. “Years ago.”

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry.” My heart squeezes. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  “It’s okay.” He looks down, his mouth a firm line. “It happened a long time ago, but it’s still…hard.”

  “I’m sure.” I hesitate. “What happened?”

  “It was an accident. A motor vehicle accident.”

  “Oh. That’s so tragic.”

  His face tightens even more, if that’s possible. “Yeah. And my mom didn’t handle it very well. She kind of had a breakdown.”

  “Oh my God.” I gaze at him with my heart in my mouth, sorrow and sympathy flooding through me.

  “She was in the hospital for a while, now she lives in a care home. She’s had…treatment. But she’s still not the same. She takes a lot of medication and…she’s not really with it.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  He shrugs. “It is what it is. I go see her at Christmas and in the summers, and I make sure she’s looked after. My Aunt Kathy—her sister—keeps me posted about how she’s doing.”

  I reach out and curl my fingers around his big hand to squeeze it.

  “What about your family? You mentioned your dad called the other day.”

  I let him change the subject. “Yeah. From the Philippines. That’s where he is now.”

  “Wow. He lives there?”

  “No, he’s just traveling around. He’s having a midlife crisis.” I roll my eyes. “I guess that’s what it is anyway. He’s doing all the things he wanted to but never could.”

  “Are your parents divorced?”

  “Nope.” I shake
my head and cut another piece of waffle. “He just left. They’re still married. Mom thinks he’ll come home to her when he’s got it out of his system. She’s just patiently waiting. Meanwhile, she’s stuck with the house and all the bills and a daughter who can’t support herself.” I laugh lightly.

  “You’re working on that.”

  “I am. But she doesn’t get that either. She’s the practical one in the family.”

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  “No.” I make a face. “Spoiled only child.”

  “You’re not spoiled.”

  “Oh, I am. Or was.” I let out a gusty sigh. “I didn’t realize how much until I was out of work. My family wasn’t wealthy, but we were comfortable. I had a part-time job as a teenager, and I used it for expensive makeup and cellphones and designer clothes. I got a good job right out of college and I kept spending money on those things. I didn’t have much saved up when I lost my job, and I thought I’d find something right away. I didn’t realize what a mess I was creating for myself with the lawsuit, and I was pretty bitter that I couldn’t buy new shoes and go out to clubs and spend fifteen bucks on a cocktail.” I keep my tone light, but I’m not proud of the way I was. I don’t even like talking about it, but he told me about his sad story, so what the hell. We’ve seen each other naked, might as well bare everything. “I learned some hard lessons, but it took a while.”

  He’s watching me, his face relaxed again, his mouth soft. “At least you learned.”

  I nod, his support bringing on a rush of warmth in my chest.

  “Why did you decide to sue? What did they do that was so bad anyway?”

  “Ugh. The company I worked for is a big chain of resorts and time-share properties. Lexington Resorts. They have operations all over the world. I got to travel a lot to some really gorgeous places. Anyway, they sell a lot of time-share to seniors, and when I got more involved in that side of the business, I started to see that they were using some very unethical practices. Reps were preying on older time-share owners to get them to increase their holdings and told them that the company would buy back their ownership stakes if they didn’t want them anymore. They opened credit card accounts for buyers without their knowledge or approval. They verbally told them all kinds of things that were totally different than what was in contracts, and the seniors believed everything they were told and handed over their money.” I close my eyes, remembering the devastation and heartbreak of some of those seniors. “The company set sales goals that were impossible to meet if reps were actually following policies and regulations. They were breaking laws.” I pause, that anger flaring again inside me.

  “Wow.” Easton tilts his head. “That’s shitty.”

  “It was awful. I saw the lives they were ruining by taking those poor seniors’ life savings, knowing they’d never see that money again.” I pause, then say regretfully, “My own grandma got sucked into it. I felt horrible. I wanted to do something about it. Only I didn’t realize how high up the corruption went. When I first approached my boss about my concerns, he brushed me off. He knew what was going on. They wanted more business and they didn’t care how they did it. Then I complained higher. And they started to retaliate against me. They said I wasn’t supporting their agenda, not being a team player.” Bitterness edges my tone.

  “Shit.”

  I nod. “Then I got fired.”

  “Bastards.”

  A quick smile pulls at my lips. “Yeah. I was pissed. At first three of my colleagues joined me in my lawsuit. But then the company settled with them and they dropped out. I was the only one left, and when they offered me a settlement, I told them I’d only take it if they changed their policies to help protect customers. They refused.”

  “Wow.” He stares at me. “That takes guts.”

  I lift one shoulder. “Not sure if it’s guts or stupidity. Everyone was telling me to take the money and get on with my life. Like I said, I had no idea how far they’d retaliate. They smeared my name in the hospitality business, and as soon as potential employers heard what I was doing, there was no way they’d hire me. I didn’t know how bad things would get. But…” I pull in a long breath and straighten my shoulders. “That just made me more determined to make them pay. And to try to stop them from doing it to other people.”

  He moves his head slowly from side to side as if finding it hard to believe what he just heard. “That’s amazing, Lilly.”

  Tension unexpectedly releases from my body, tension I wasn’t even aware had gathered while I talked. I suck on my bottom lip and hold his gaze. “Really?”

  “Yeah…”

  “You don’t think I’m a money-hungry troublemaker?”

  His lips twitch. “Uh. No.” He tilts his head, as if thinking. “Maybe…idealistic?”

  I frown. “Because I think businesses should have principles and ethics?”

  He grimaces. “Of course they should. But that’s not realistic.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh, here we go. This is what everyone told me. ‘Get rid of those rose-colored glasses.’ ‘You can’t fix all the injustices in the world.’ I don’t want to fix all the injustices in the world, but maybe this is something I can fix.”

  He sets down his fork and holds up his hands. “You’re right. And that’s not what I’m saying. I admire your principles.”

  I eye him skeptically.

  “Really.” He leans over and smooches my mouth. He meets my eyes. “I do.”

  “Thank you. Not everyone has.”

  “I get that. And I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I also think it takes a lot of strength to do what you did. Maybe you didn’t know all the consequences, but you wanted to do the right thing.”

  “Yes.” My heart is pattering wildly.

  “That’s really brave.”

  Oh my God, I want to toss the food aside and jump him again. He’s making me all soft and squishy inside. I drop my gaze to the plate on my lap. “Thank you,” I say again. This man’s opinion of me…matters.

  At that moment, Otis makes himself heard again. We both turn toward the door, back to each other, then laugh.

  “Poor Otis.” I lift my plate. “I’m done. How about you?”

  We let Otis in and make a fuss over him, then move to the living room. We sit on the floor with Otis and a bag of treats, working on teaching him to sit, lie down, and stay. We hang out on Easton’s couch watching a movie, then get dressed to take Otis for a walk. My hair is frizzy and my makeup washed off in the shower, so I have to go “woke up like this,” although I have a lip gloss in my purse.

  Instead of heading to the park we wander along Broadway, window-shopping on a Sunday afternoon. It’s such a relaxing, easy day. We make each other laugh, Otis entertains us, and I love seeing Easton without that edge, that cynical attitude of always expecting the worst.

  I don’t want it to end.

  I know it’s just sex, but even the no-sex parts of the day are fun with him.

  I pop into Trader Joe’s so I can pick up a few things—I need fruit and yogurt, and I grab a couple of pre-made salads. We arrive at the corner of my street and it’s late afternoon. I pause. “I guess I should head home.”

  Easton nods and we turn down my street. He’s carrying one of my bags of groceries, so he follows me inside. The apartment is empty and quiet; I guess Carlin is out. Easton sets the bag on the kitchen counter. I feel shy and awkward. How do we end this?

  “So.”

  He smiles. “So.”

  My insides knot up. “When do I walk Otis again?” I have his schedule; I just can’t remember it right now.

  “Wednesday. Home game that night.”

  I won’t see him until Wednesday. Damn.

  “We have a practice and team meeting tomorrow.” He pushes hair off my face in a tender gest
ure that eases the knots in my stomach slightly. “And I have to go read to some schoolkids in the afternoon.”

  I nod. He’s a busy guy, I know. But so am I. I volunteer at Amsterdam Rescue tomorrow. I have other dogs to walk tomorrow and Wednesday. And a hair appointment Tuesday.

  “I’ll text you,” he says.

  I smile. “Okay.” I follow him to the door. I bend over to rub Otis’s head. “Bye, Otie. Be a good boy.” I straighten. “Good luck with your meeting tomorrow with your coach.”

  His eyes cloud and the corners of his mouth tighten. “Thanks.” He leans down and brushes first a kiss over my forehead, then a long, clinging kiss on my lips.

  My belly flip-flops and I want to grab him and climb him like a ladder. But I draw back slowly and smile again. “Bye.”

  When he’s gone, I take off my jacket and hang it up. I bend to unzip my boots and toe them off as well. Then I cross to the couch and sit and stare into space in the silence.

  Well, I wanted hot, athletic sex and I got it. Hoo boy, did I get it. My thighs are sore, my nipples sensitive, and every move that hurts reminds me of the things we did and makes my belly flip with lust. I’ll be thinking about it for the rest of the day. Probably dreaming about it tonight.

  Which also makes me uneasy. I liked it all a little too much. I didn’t want Easton to go. And I shouldn’t feel like that. I know I’m setting myself up for a big disappointment if I care too much. Apparently I haven’t learned that lesson.

  Chapter 14

  Easton

  “I’m not going to go see her.” I fold up the towels I just took out of the laundry. “I don’t need to see her when I just saw her the day before yesterday. And talked to her last night.”

  Otis tips his head where he’s stretched out on my bed.

  I pause, my hands still holding a towel. Who am I talking to?

  I used to talk to Bryce. But I think just now, I was talking to Otis.

 

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