Page 5

Cassie

The following week, Gabe and I took shifts with Mackenzie. He was a healthy scratch for the team, courtesy of his coaches, allowing us to develop a routine with each other. I was always available, should he need extra help, but he never asked for anything. It shouldn’t surprise me that Gabe turned out to be an excellent father. He’s very hands-on, and his love for Mackenzie oozes from his pores. It makes him even more attractive. Dammit.

The night before he’s ready to join the team again, I can tell he’s nervous about leaving Mackenzie. Besides taking a nap, showering, or running a quick errand, he hasn’t been apart from her since they left the hospital. Tonight, his mood is different. It’s agitated. Nervous. Borderline chaotic. As he gives Mackenzie her evening bottle, his leg jiggles constantly. Without thinking, I grab his knee to stop his leg from moving. When his eyes dart to mine, I see the confusion in his gaze.

“Crap, sorry,” I mutter. “Stop shaking your leg. You might make her spit up.”

“Dammit,” he spits out. “I just … I don’t want to leave.”

“I know,” I say softly.

His gaze is intense as he stares at me. “It’s not about you. You know that, right? I’m not apprehensive about you keeping her. I know she’s in good hands. But —”

“But they aren’t your hands. I get it, Gabe. Really, I do.”

“I’ve never hated hockey before. This is new,” he chuckles bitterly.

“It’s okay to be sad. She’s your baby. You can hate being away from her, and fearful of not being in control.”

“Millions of people leave their children for work every day. I feel like I’m making too big of a deal about this.” Gabe runs his hands through his hair quickly, the motion unsettling his wavy locks. His jaw clenches as he grabs the back of his neck in frustration.

“I don’t think so,” I tell him. “You’re in a unique situation. It isn’t just a nine-to-five job. And most people don’t leave town right away. You didn’t have any time to plan for this either, Gabe. You’re well within your rights to be freaked out about everything.”

“I’m lucky the team let me have two weeks off,” he says absentmindedly.

“That isn’t standard paternity leave?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Hockey comes first. They might give a couple days, but getting two weeks off is pretty atypical, especially leading up to the playoffs.”

“Unique set of circumstances.”

“I guess,” he murmurs, his brow furrowed as he stares at Mackenzie. “Are you going to be okay? I’ll be gone tomorrow morning, then again tomorrow evening. I’ll come home and take a nap in the afternoon.”

“Pre-game nap,” I chuckle, and Gabe smiles in understanding.

“Yep. Grant has a whole series of stupid superstitions he does throughout a game day, but for me, it’s always been about the nap, and about the socks I wear.”

“I bet you put them on in a specific order, though,” I tease him, and he laughs.

“I do.”

I shake my head in mock disappointment. “You damn hockey boys and your superstitions.”

“I’d take offense, but you’re not wrong. Actually, the guys teased me because they said I needed a new tradition after I got a hat trick a few weeks ago —” Gabe abruptly stops talking.

“You got a hat trick? That’s amazing!” I gush. A hat trick is when one player scores three goals in the same game. “So what do they want you to do now?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he says hurriedly. “You saved all the numbers I sent you, right?”

The quick change of topic is like whiplash, but I don’t ask what is going on. “Yes, I have every single number for the team, all the coaches, the front office at the practice arena and the main arena, and a bunch of other employees. Who is Elsie, by the way? She texted me today and told me she was on standby if I needed you.”

“Physical therapist for the team, and the coach’s girlfriend,” Gabe answers as he stands up. “I’m going to give baby girl a bath, then get her settled in for the night. Are you okay with taking the night shift tonight?”

“Of course,” I answer, again put off by his quick response and tone. I cock my head to the side, studying him, and I realize he won’t make eye contact with me. “What happened a couple weeks ago that made you get a hat trick, Gabe?”

He sighs, closes his eyes, and then says, “I met you.”

Stunned, I can’t find words to respond as I watch him walk upstairs.

“Cass,” I hear whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Cassie.”

“Huh?”

“Cassie, Mackenzie is awake, and I need to leave for practice.”

I bolt upright as I realize Gabe is actually talking to me. In my dream, he was very much not doing any talking, but his lips were definitely moving. Rubbing my eyes, I stare up at Gabe. Hovering above me, he’s in workout clothes and holding a to-go cup of coffee. When my eyes meet his, I see they are bloodshot and weary. “Did you not get any sleep last night?”

“No.”

“Nervous about today?” I ask.

“No. Mackenzie was up all night.” His answer is blunt, and do I hear a slight accusatory tone?

“Gabe! I said I’d take her!” I whisper-yell as I throw the comforter off his guest bed and stand up.

“ That’s why. That’s why you didn’t take her,” Gabe growls, his tone accusatory as he points at my body. I look down and realize I’m in a tank top and a thong. “I came in here to hand her off, and you were sprawled half under the blankets, and your ass was on display, and I couldn’t wake you up at that point, now could I?”

“You absolutely could have woken me up because that’s what you’re paying me to do! This is how I sleep, Gabe, so you better get used to it!”

“You can put fucking pants on to sleep, god dammit,” he growls.

“You walk around half-naked all the time, and you’re gonna tell me how to dress when I’m sleeping? That’s rich,” I retort.

“I do not walk around half-naked!”

“Yeah, you totally do. And don’t you dare tell me it’s for skin-to-skin. That was cool the first night, but now it’s just you hoping I’ll stare.” I stare. I try not to, but I can’t help it. He’s like a car crash. I want to look away, but I can’t.

“Clearly, you do, or you wouldn’t notice I’m walking around half-naked.” Gabe’s breathing has picked up, his chest expanding quicker and quicker as he stands over me.

“So you do admit it! Do you need a confidence boost, Mr. Big Time Hockey Man?” Have we gotten closer together? What the hell is happening right now?

“God dammit!” he yells before yanking me toward him and covering my lips with his. Gabe turns and pushes me against the wall, his hands finding my ass and lifting me. My legs automatically wrap around his waist as his tongue forces its way into my mouth. He groans into me as I slide my hands up into his hair, my nails scratching harshly along his neck and scalp. I probably have ridiculous morning breath, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

As Gabe’s hand begins to slide toward my center, a piercing cry breaks through my hazy mind, and I become cognizant of what just happened. Breaking off the kiss, I dislodge my legs and drop to the ground, pushing him away from me. I reach up and touch my lips, swollen and hot from his kiss, and I wonder if they look like Gabe’s. His gaze is hazy as he roughly runs one hand through his hair.

“I need to leave,” he grits out.

“Okay,” I stammer, then rush past him into his room to collect Mackenzie. I hear Gabe stomp down the stairs before opening and slamming the front door. Going to the window, I see him stand in the driveway for a moment, his hands clenched tightly into fists before he walks back to the door. I giggle quietly as I hear him shuffle through the house and out into the garage. Looking down at Mackenzie, I notice she’s staring intently at me. “Your daddy is kinda nuts.”

When she coos at me, I decide she agrees.

The morning goes remarkably well. Since it’s my first time fully alone in the house with Mackenzie, I somehow expected she would have difficulty with the transition. I’m pretty sure a three-week-old baby is mostly only aware of eating, sleeping, and pooping. After a rousing tummy time resulted in some impressive explosive vomiting, I gave Mackenzie a bath. Then, I set her down for her late morning nap. When she kept fussing and couldn’t seem to get fully settled, I pulled the bassinet up against Gabe’s’ bed and decided to rest my head until she settled. Surrounded by the aroma of Gabe’s cologne, I relaxed and fell asleep.

When I wake up, I know something is different. I’m hot. And I feel like my body is heavy. Opening one eye, I find Mackenzie still peacefully sleeping, so I decide to quietly leave the room to do some laundry. But I can’t seem to get up.

I hear a sigh behind me, and an arm tightens around my midsection. It’s then that I realize Gabe is wrapped around me. I must stiffen because Gabe murmurs, “Just sleep, Cass. Don’t overthink it. I need this.”

He needs what exactly? Sleep? Me? A body, any body, to hold onto? Thankfully, Mackenzie stirs, and I have an excuse to get up. “Let me take Kenzie out so you can rest.”

Gabe sighs again and reluctantly removes his arm from around my waist.

Grabbing Kenzie, I nuzzle against her cheek and whisper, “Let’s give Daddy space for his nap time, pretty girl.”

“Like that,” Gabe mutters.

“What?”

“You calling her pretty girl. And you calling me Daddy.”

Oh.

I stumble out of his bedroom without a response.

Mackenzie and I settle into a pattern of sorts. Now that Gabe is fully back with the team, I can relax into caring for her, and ignoring the growing tension between Gabe and me. We’ve never spoken about the kiss, or the spooning during a nap, but every time I’m in a room with Gabe, I feel a heat forcefully pressing down on me. It’s oppressive with how it tries to push me toward him.

The night before Gabe is scheduled to leave for his last extended road trip of the regular season, it all comes to a head. Gabe is packing his suitcase in the living room as Mackenzie is asleep in her bassinet in his room. The monitor on the end table gives us a bird’s-eye view of the bassinet, and Gabe looks at it every couple of minutes.

“I expect hourly updates, and at least two FaceTimes per day, Cassie.”

“I already told you I’d do all of that,” I say warily. Gabe is so keyed up that I’m ready for him to leave so he can get over this major hurdle.

“You understand it’s not that I will be checking up on your ability to care for my daughter?”

“Yes, Gabe.”

He sighs angrily as he slams a handful of shirts into his suitcase. “I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate unless I know she’s okay.”

“I know.”

He looks up at me, his eyes a storm of emotions. “She became my whole world in one short month.”

“I know, Gabe. I’ll update you as often as possible, and send you lots of pictures.”

“Just don’t send anything the hour before the puck drops. It might throw me off.”

For fuck’s sake. “Then turn off your damn phone. You’ll be gallivanting around the country, through multiple time zones, and I’m not gonna do math to try and figure out if it’s within an hour of your game or not.”

“It’s not that hard. Just look up the start time and find the time zone,” Gabe mutters, his eyes narrowing. His lips might be pursed in annoyance, but his eyes keep darting to look at my mouth. Oh yes.

“I’m not doing that. Turn off your damn phone,” I repeat.

His gaze snaps to mine as his jaw clenches in anger. But those eyes, the beautiful brown eyes that currently seem to be undressing me slowly, smolder. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do because I’m fucking paying you to do it.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He approaches me, his stance taut with both power and sensuality.

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna make me?” I taunt, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. I’m poking the bear, and I fully intend to reap the benefits.

“Motherfucker,” Gabe swears as he grabs me and crushes our lips together. The moment we connect, my soul sings in bliss. I think I needed this. Needed him. I need him like I’ve never experienced before. The tension between us slowly built until we combusted.

Our tongues duel in harmony as we both grab hungrily at each other, my hands scratching up and down his back while his latch into my hair and maneuver my head in whatever direction he wants. Gabe is hot. Daddy Gabe is fire. But dominant Gabe? Take charge Gabe? Holy shit, it’s an inferno.

Gabe picks me up and walks to the kitchen, depositing me on the bar. It’s higher than the counters, and I’m unsure of his intentions. “What are you doing?”

He pulls up a chair and sits down, a feral grin covering his face, and I find my core is at the perfect height for his mouth. “Eating. Take off your fucking pants.”

When I don’t move fast enough, he grabs hold of the waistband of my leggings and yanks them off, taking my panties with them, and slides both hands up my legs seductively until his hands rest on my inner thighs. When I tremble with need, he smiles. “That’s my girl. Tell me what you want, Cassie.”

Jesus, I could come just from his voice. Somehow, it’s deeper, raspier, and downright carnal how he’s speaking to me.

“Use your words, Firecracker,” Gabe coaxes as one finger skirts along the seam of my pussy, but not enough to touch anything.

“I — I want to come,” I stammer.

“I know that, baby. How do you want to come? With my mouth? Fingers? My cock? Do you want it rough, or do you want me to edge you for hours?”

“You have to sleep,” I whimper. “You need to be rested for your trip.”

“No, I need this. I need you. Now fucking tell me how you’ll let me have you,” Gabe murmurs, his voice like honey being poured on my skin.

“All of it, I want all of it! Make me come with your tongue, Gabe. Please!” I cry out. I attempt to slide my fingers down and take the edge off by touching my clit, but he slaps my hand away. Gabe slides one finger inside my channel, and my body automatically clamps down on him. He finds my G-spot and rubs, ever so slowly, but backs off as soon as he recognizes I’m about to come. Needing some relief, I grab my breasts, pinching my nipples harshly, but Gabe pulls one arm down.

“I’ll get you off, Cass. I’ll do it. Don’t you dare try to take my orgasm from me.”

Holy shit. The mouth on this man.

“Then do it, god dammit!” I shout, ready to shove him away and take care of it myself. I’m so turned on I’m shaking. I think we’ve been edging each other for the last two weeks. Like a pot of water, slowly heating up, building until a rolling boil threatens to spill over. God, I need this. I ache with need for him.

I again slide my fingers down, needing anything on my clit to give me a little release of the pressure building inside me, and Gabe slaps my hand away again. Two fingers slide inside this time, and thankfully, he applies more pressure to my G-spot. “Come on, hurry, please!”

I open my eyes to look at Gabe, and find a thunderous expression covering his gorgeous face. I expect another verbal tongue-lashing, but what I get instead is an actual tongue-lashing. His head disappears between my legs, and I finally feel the velvety softness of his tongue against my clit. It doesn’t take much, though. A quick flick, flick, flick, and I combust. My back bows off the counter as a fierce orgasm overtakes me, my entire body shaking as pleasure courses throughout my veins. But Gabe doesn’t stop. He builds me right back up, sending me over again and again until I push his head away. Still shuddering, my vagina has a damn pulse, and he’s looking at me like he could sit here all night, feasting on my pussy.

“I can’t,” I whimper.

“You can’t what?” He straightens his back, and I peer at him. His scruff is wet, evidence of my multiple orgasms. Gabe’s pupils are blown so wide I can’t tell where they stop and his irises begin. He’s panting as hard as I am, almost as if he got off on getting me off.

“Too sensitive,” I finally answer.

I feel one finger slowly slide into my channel, immediately finding my G-spot, and I let out a guttural moan. “Oh, I think you’ve got at least a few more in there, baby.”

A second finger joins in, and then Gabe takes his other hand and presses it against my lower abdomen. The pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I feel like I need to pee, but a spark ignites in my core. I’m thrashing on the counter as I both push toward Gabe and also away from him, confused by what I’m feeling. I’ve never felt an intensity like this. It’s overtaking my entire body, and when Gabe leans forward to latch onto my clit, nibbling it softly, I shatter. I feel a gush as Gabe pushes his hands together like he’s trying to get them to meet inside me, and an orgasm like I’ve never felt before rumbles through my system. I let out a long moan as I ride the wave of the best high I’ve ever gotten.

Gabe carefully slides his arms underneath me, picks me up, and carries me to the couch. He goes to lay me down, but I throw my legs down and then push him onto the couch.

“You need to rest, Firecracker,” he says, but I shake my head.

“No. I need to feel you. You said you needed me a few weeks ago. During your nap, remember? Well, now I’m telling you that I need this. I need it so badly, Gabe. Please,” I whisper. He pushes an errant hair behind my ears and gives me a soft smile.

“Are you worried about blurring the lines?” he asks.

I hesitate, wondering if I should be honest, or feed him a line about this being just one time. To scratch an itch. To get rid of this stifling energy that hovers over us whenever we’re together. Anything. But what comes out is, “The lines were blurred the moment I stepped into your bedroom that first night.”