He held her close but didn’t move. Caroline reached up to touch the warm skin of his neck. She traced the muscles down as they disappeared into his shirt and then reappeared in thick ropes along his arms. His breath quickened. He reached for the hem of her tank top and lifted it over her head. He pulled his own shirt off but stopped there, bringing his hands around her waist.
“Do that again,” he whispered, “Please.”
She raised her hands to his shoulders this time, following the contours his shirt had hidden. Her stomach rested against his, skin to skin, and she felt his hard muscles twitch. She took her time, tracing his biceps down and up again. Niklas closed his eyes and groaned. She splayed her fingers over the broad, flat muscles of his chest, over the dusting of hair, over his nipples. His hands tightened around her, and he bent down to kiss her forehead.
“Tomorrow is going to hurt,” he said, his lips brushing against her as he spoke. “And the next day. And the next.”
Dizzying heat twisted inside her, tinged with the fear of what the next day might bring. She ran her fingers along his jaw, scraping them against the dark stubble that had grown over the last days. She stroked until the lines on his forehead began to ease.
“This already hurts,” she said, pulling him closer.
He slipped his hands under the straps of her bra, pushing them out of the way as he moved his thumbs around the undersides of her breasts. He held them both in his hands, kneading and teasing.
“Good,” he whispered, and she felt the bite of anger in the word.
She opened her mouth, but the only sound that came out was a moan. Whatever she thought she would say was gone. Sensations raced through her: The rough brush of his fingers over her nipples. Firm, taut muscles under her hands. The iron-hard erection pressing into her, stroking against her. She wanted him.
He breathed Swedish words into her skin as he kissed and nipped at her bare shoulders.
“Jag älskar dig. Jag kommer alltid att älskar dig.”
She reached down to find the button of his jeans, tracing the brush of hair down his stomach. After spending every day of the summer together, Caroline thought that this burning need for him would fade. They should have moved on from this stage by now, but somehow they hadn’t. How long would it last? Would their relationship hold up if they lost this urgency?
He leaned forward into her touch, and her train of worries gave way to more immediate sensations.
She unzipped his jeans and pushed them open. She reached inside, brushing her fingers over the tip of his erection. It stretched and strained against the fabric of his boxer briefs. Niklas froze. His hands stopped, mid-caress, and tightened around her nipples. She gasped. He let go, taking a step back.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
She fought her disappointment. This wasn’t rejection, but the sting didn’t feel so much different. Caroline dropped her hands and gave him a little room. These were his limits. When pressed to the place where his taut hold on his control threatened to snap, he backed down.
She knew somewhere inside him, hockey and fighting and fear and lust all came together in a messy mix he tried to avoid. He had told her as much one hot night in Greece after a less-than-friendly exchange with a couple of drunk men. Though he meant the conversation as a warning, Caroline couldn’t stop herself from thinking about what it would feel like if he didn’t hold back.
But she had already pushed him far enough tonight.
Niklas stepped out of the last of his clothes and took a step toward her, sizing her up with half-lidded eyes. He knelt down in front of her and caught her hips with his hands, brushing his thumbs just under her waistband. He kissed her stomach and let his tongue trail down further. She laughed and squirmed, but he held her firmly in place.
“You get to tease me, but I don’t get to tease you?”
Her voice came out in breathless pants, taking the sarcasm out of her words. His thumbs explored lower, easing her pants down over her hips, his lips following close behind.
“That’s right,” he said, his breath hot on her skin.
He took his time lowering her jeans to the floor, spreading his hands over her legs as he moved down. Her body couldn’t stop responding.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered.
“Too much walking.”
Niklas chuckled.
“Is that all?”
He helped her step out of her jeans and traced a path back up her legs, his thumbs trailing along the insides. But when he reached the top, he stopped. His fingers teased the curve of her legs, and she felt the heat of his breath through her panties.
“Is that all?” he repeated. “Is that the only reason you’re shaking?”
His blue eyes darkened as he looked up at her. Caroline swallowed and shook her head.
“Good,” he said. The word was smooth and sensual this time, with no trace of anger.
He moved the scrap of lace aside and gave her what she was waiting for. She cried out, and her legs gave in. He pulled her into him as she sank so they were kneeling against each other, their bodies pressed together. Her bra was still half on, and he fumbled behind her to release it. She pushed it off and wrapped her hands around his neck. His fingers settled around her rib cage, stroking, while he watched her.
If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he looked calm. But she did know better. This wasn’t calm. His shoulder muscles tensed and twitched with unused energy. But he held back, reading her, waiting for her to respond, deciding how much of himself to give.
Caroline slid her hands up into his hair and grabbed on. She pulled his mouth to hers, kissing, nipping, provoking until she felt him let go. He enclosed her body with one arm and slipped the other hand to the base of her neck. He deepened the kiss, holding her body as his came down over hers. She tilted her hips into his, searching for more pleasure, as his erection throbbed and pressed hard against her. He was going to lower her onto the floor and have her on the Ritz Carlton carpet, and at that moment she didn’t care.
But as her head brushed the floor, he broke off and buried his face in her neck. His breath came in short, rough pants in her ear, echoing her own.
“The bed, Caroline,” he groaned. “Fuck. Let’s get on the bed.”
She nodded against him. He pulled her back up to her knees and then to her feet.
“I can’t even make it to the bed with you, Caroline,” he whispered in her ear. “You make me so hard. Right now I can’t think about anything else besides the way you smell, your soft skin, the feeling that comes when I’m finally inside you.”
He walked her over to the bed in small, slow steps, their bodies still pressed together, urging her backwards until she hit the mattress. Niklas pulled the covers off and lifted her onto the silky, white sheets. He parted her legs with his knee and climbed over her, resting on his arms above her.
The sight of his biceps flexing as he lowered himself over her brought erotic memories of other nights, his body in a sheen of sweat on top of hers as he pushed deeper, longer, harder. A quiet moan escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. Niklas smiled darkly.
“I’m barely touching you.”
“I know how good this will be.”
“Me, too.”
He stroked his rock-hard erection against her, and she arched into him, struggling closer. Finally, he gave in, sinking into her with one, satisfying thrust. Caroline gripped the muscles of his sides, and a moan of relief escaped from her mouth. Finally.
Niklas stilled and shut his eyes, his breaths coming faster, harder, filling the silence of the hotel room. She closed her eyes, too, letting his sounds, his scent, his touch take over her senses. This was the what mattered: the two of them, joined together.
“Nothing else on this earth comes close to this feeling, Caroline,” he whispered.
Then he took a long, ragged breath and began to move.
Chapter 3
THEY SAT IN the cha
in of vinyl seats, just outside their gate. Caroline held a book, pretending to read, and Niklas scrolled through the messages on his phone, his baseball hat pulled low on his face. The flight was delayed, and the quiet between them built with every extra minute they waited. Caroline could no longer shut her mind to the end of this trip. It was here.
From now on, they were no longer suspended in travel time, where talk about “the future” meant discussing dinner plans.
Niklas’s large, warm hand rested on her thigh. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his knee jogged, double-time, as if he were prepping himself for a sprint, not four-and-a half hours of sitting on an airplane.
Caroline laid her book aside, running her hand along the hard, bunched muscles of his shoulders. His leg stilled, and he set down his phone. He swallowed and rubbed his jaw as she pressed her fingers harder.
“I have a headache from clenching my teeth all morning,” he said.
Caroline nodded.
“I’m not doing any better,” she said. “I’ve read this page in my book about five times, and I still don’t remember what it says.”
He turned to face her. He lifted his hand to caress her cheek, but his voice was tight.
“Caroline, I want you to stay at my house when we get to Detroit.”
Caroline looked up at him.
“But… does that mean you’re…” The words barely came out as Caroline tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach that his statement had set off. Was he thinking of staying in Detroit? Relief mingled with a different set of worries. The new Caroline was supposed to be stepping out on her own. So how would staying at Niklas’s house fit into the starving artist, making-it-on-her-own thing?
Niklas turned away. “We need to go look at something before we even start this conversation.”
“Umm, okay,” she said, standing up.
They walked down the hall, away from their gate, until they reached a newsstand. Niklas grabbed an assortment of newspapers from the shelves with barely a glance at which ones he was taking and paid. He didn’t look at her, but his hand searched for hers as they walked back to their seats.
When they sat down again, he grabbed the top newspaper from the pile, discarding each layer until he reached the Sports section. He laid it on his lap, and Caroline leaned on his arm to get a better view. His muscles were hard and tense, and they moved under her touch.
She immediately found the article he was looking at: “Oklahoma Tornados Stand Together Under Abuse Allegations.” Caroline swallowed hard and skimmed the article.
A group of women had accused a good portion of the hockey team of rape and abuse at an after-party and sued them. She understood that the event alone hit a little too close to home for Niklas, but it was the slant of the article that sent a shiver through her: Clearly, whoever wrote the article didn’t believe the allegations were true. The story focused on the women’s past partying and the amounts of compensation they demanded, not on the details of the claims themselves.
“Are you done?”
Niklas didn’t look directly at her, and his voice was barely there. Caroline nodded, and he moved on to the second newspaper.
Her mind raced in all directions as she skimmed the next article. How did this event relate to Niklas? What was he thinking? And why had his agent call him with this news? Was Niklas somehow involved? The last thought stopped her cold. He would never do anything like that, would he?
She couldn’t believe her mind had just made that leap, but now that she had latched onto the idea, it lingered. Last night in the hotel, she had felt his roughness as he held onto her, teased her. And she couldn’t deny that her body had responded. Was that a hint of something darker between them?
She sat up a little, her cheek no longer resting against his arm. Niklas must have felt the shift. He dropped the newspaper and turned to her. For the first time since they left the hotel, Niklas seemed fully aware of her presence.
His eyes narrowed and his mouth drew down into a scowl.
“What? You think this story is somehow about me?” he hissed, keeping his voice low under the hum of the airport. “After these past months together?”
His voice faded out. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his hand.
“No, I don’t,” she said, resting her hand on his thigh. “I don’t.”
“Never, Caroline,” he whispered, the anger in his voice giving way to hurt. “You know that, don’t you? Never, ever. ”
The finality of his statement didn’t cover the anxious edge in his voice. The lines on Niklas’s face grew deeper. She found his hand and laced her fingers with his.
“I know that, Niklas,” she said. “But why did your agent call about this? Why did he think of you when this story came out?”
His mouth tightened into a thin line, and he didn’t respond for a while. He looked away, his eyes darkening.
“My agent thinks this is an opportunity for me,” he growled, “that I can use this story to my advantage. That the Red Wings might consider offering me another contract.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “How could this be an opportunity?”
“I have an opportunity to revise my image,” said Niklas, his eyes on the ground. “Some time has passed, public opinion has shifted, and the Red Wings lost two other defensemen this summer. If I want to go back to the NHL, now’s the time to try.”
“Oh.”
Caroline couldn’t find anything else to say. The idea of using a story like this to any advantage repulsed her, and she could see it was having the same effect on Niklas. But for a place on the team that had been his home for years? And for her, it meant Niklas would be in Detroit. Judging by the grim look on his face, Caroline guessed that he had run through each of these angles more than once already.
“What else, Niklas?”
His frown deepened. “Tom wants us to appear publically, to send out some photos from our trip. He wants me to use you as PR to give me better negotiating leverage. At the very least, he thinks it’ll win back some of the sponsorships I lost last spring.”
Caroline blinked a couple times, trying to register this turn and the sinking feeling it brought.
“And that’s why you want me to stay with you?”
“No,” hissed Niklas. “This all means I might have a chance to stay in Detroit.”
Caroline studied his face. “What’s the matter?”
Niklas sighed. “If I give it a try, I want you there with me.”
She wanted to stay with him, but at his place? The house was probably some oversized mansion in a gated community. It would be like staying at the Ritz Carlton. Overindulgent. A place where she didn’t belong. Still, she certainly wasn’t going back to Brad’s, and lining up her own place would take a little time. Her current plan—crashing on a friend’s couch—didn’t sound particularly appealing, either.
She took a deep breath and smiled. “Stay in your stately manor? With a butler who shines your shoes every morning?”
He managed a little smile. “No butler.”
“I’m not sure I can live without a butler,” she said. “The Ritz did such a nice job polishing up our hiking boots.”
He didn’t smile this time. Caroline studied his face for signs of emotion, but he seemed to have closed up at the very moment her own heart was struggling to open. He wouldn’t even meet her gaze.
“You don’t want to take the Red Wings offer,” she said softly.
Niklas frowned.
“It’s not that simple,” he said, still looking at the ground. “After spending the summer with you, taking a step down and playing for Djurgården sounded like exactly what I needed. But…” He put his hand back on her thigh. “But I have more to consider now.”
His words sunk in. He’d consider a spot on the Red Wings just to be in Detroit with her? Everything about that sounded wrong, but part of her still wanted to blurt out, Yes! Stay! before she could think better of it.
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Niklas squeezed her thigh, getting her attention.
“You don’t look so happy anymore,” he said.
Caroline sighed.
“You’re considering taking a position you don’t want just to be with me?” she said. “While I flounder around trying to figure out my career? That doesn’t sound like the right direction for us, any more than me following you to Sweden.”
Niklas shrugged.“There was a time when my career was important for more personal reasons, too.”
Why wasn’t this making her feel better? Niklas looked up. The warmth was back in his eyes, and he smiled a little.
“Don’t worry. I haven’t signed anything,” he said. “I’ll only be skating at some unofficial practices. Let’s just give this a try, okay?”
Caroline couldn’t stop herself from nodding.
“Okay.”
“HOW DOES YOUR agent know about me, about our trip? I thought that was private. Just between us…”
“It is private,” he winced, “and it will stay that way. But when I didn’t answer Tom’s calls this summer, he asked around on my Swedish team. I had told them I was disappearing for a while but I’d be back for the season. Just so they didn’t go looking for me,” he said, his words coming faster now. “A few of the guys knew it was with a woman, but no one knows who you are… and that little story is about the most tempting bait we can throw to the press.”
Their pace slowed as they approached the end of the enormous airport hall. Each step brought them closer to the last moment of their magical trip, closer to their uncertain future. Niklas squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples.
“You don’t have to let this touch you, Caroline,” he said softly. “We don’t have to walk any further together.”
His words were slow and deliberate. Each one seemed to cause him pain, but he didn’t let his eyes leave hers. He was giving her an out.
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