Page 38

I don’t even feel bad about breaking my own rules. In fact, I want Oren more than ever before. To be his source of pleasure, to take away his pain, and give him an intoxicating distraction. I don’t think I’ve ever given a handjob with the expectation of getting absolutely nothing in return, but in this situation, it feels so right. This is about him and what I can give to him.

After I’ve stripped out of my wet underwear and rinsed his release off of my chest, I get out of the shower and wrap up in a towel before turning the water off and helping Oren out. I keep brushing my fingertips against his skin, along his muscles, for no reason. Each touch sends little sparks through my body. His gaze travels over me, watching every move I make, as I help him stabilize himself against the counter. The heat between us only builds when he secures the towel around his waist. Just like he does every night, but this time, it’s different, more intense. His chest rises and falls quickly as he looks at me like he wants to pounce.

"Don’t get any ideas, you're supposed to be taking it easy," I remind him, my voice coming out breathless, betraying my steadfast resolve.

He smirks, that dangerous, lazy grin spreading across his face. "And to do that, you’re not supposed to be driving me crazy. I can’t, in good conscience, leave you unsatisfied and dripping for me.”

I swallow hard, trying to ignore how true his words are and how wet I am. The desire coiled so tightly after watching him fall apart under my touch. But before I can respond, Oren reaches out, drops my towel, and pulls me between his legs. How quickly he got me into this position is a slight surprise, but I don’t resist as he leans down, pressing his lips to mine in a heated kiss.

His mouth moves against mine with urgency, as my need for him sends a shiver down my spine. His large hands wrap around my waist, fingers digging into my hips as he holds me as close to him as possible. I can feel the heat and hardness of his muscles pressing against my naked chest, and my mind goes blank. All I can focus on is the way he kisses me, the way his hands roam over me like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me.

"Oren," I whisper, my voice trembling as I force myself to pull back just enough to catch my breath.

But he doesn't stop. He spreads kisses down my neck, sending waves of heat to my pussy as he kisses a line down to my collarbone. "I want you. This," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and ragged, “let me show you how much.”

I instinctively find his shoulders, pressing against him as he tries to pull me closer, his mouth teasing, tempting. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” I manage to say, though my voice is weak, my resolve slipping.

“Nothing will hurt nearly as much as it pains me not to touch you right now,” he growls softly, his lips brushing down the column of my throat.

One of his fingers teases between my thighs. I can feel the heat in his touch, the way he’s aching to give me everything that he can.

I bite my lip, my body responding to every kiss, every touch. "Oren…we can't. Not yet."

His eyes meet mine, dark and filled with lust. "There are plenty of things that I can do to you that won’t hurt my knee," he says, his voice low, "but you have to let me. I'll only do what you want me to, Rachel."

I feel the same pull toward him, the same need to lose myself in him, but I can’t let him push himself too far. "You need to heal," I whisper, even though my body is screaming for more.

His fingers trace slow circles on my skin that make it impossible to think straight. "And you make it really fucking hard to stay patient," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

I smile despite myself, leaning in to kiss him one last time, lingering before I finally pull away to whisper, "You’ll survive."

His eyes follow me, a dark promise in them as he smirks. "We’ll see."

I get Oren into some boxers and get him settled into bed. He moves gingerly, careful with his leg but still trying to act like he’s completely fine. I watch him lie back tiredly, sinking into the mattress with a heavy sigh. Without hesitation, I hang up the towel I’m wearing and slip on his shirt. Even clean, the shirt still smells like him. I slide into bed beside him, letting him pull me in tight, wrapping me in his embrace as if he can’t bear to let me go. His lips brush against mine, soft, slow, and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. We kiss for what feels like forever, our bodies tangled together. His touch is gentle but firm, never pushing too far but always making it clear how much he wants me.

For the first time since being with him, in reality, what feels like forever, I don’t feel the urge to pull away. Instead, I sink into him, being held and wrapped in his warmth, his heartbeat steady under my ear. I don’t want to sneak out of his arms like I have before. Being here, like this, feels safe and comforting now. I fall asleep tangled in him, his arms around me, not regretting a second of it.

I wake up the next morning the same way I fell asleep, with Oren’s arm wrapped around me. I carefully shift out of his embrace, trying not to wake him, and head to get Lily ready for the day. When I come back out, Oren is already awake, moving slowly as he leans on his crutches, but determined to make coffee for the both of us. He glances at me and offers a sleepy smile, one that gives me butterflies. We don’t talk about last night, or acknowledge what has shifted. Instead, we fall into the quiet domesticity that had been there from the beginning but now feels even better.

After breakfast, Oren insists on joining Lily and me on our daily trip to the park. Even though he’s still on crutches, unable to put any weight on his leg, I don’t argue. He seems determined, and honestly, I’m happy for the adult company. The distance to the park isn’t far, but the pace is slow, with Oren hobbling along in frustrated determination. I keep my pace slow, making sure he doesn’t overdo it. I can tell that he’s annoyed by how little he can do, but once we get there, the annoyance disappears.

I keep a reasonable distance from Oren and Lily, allowing them to have this moment to themselves. To keep myself busy, I take a couple extra laps around the sidewalk. When I start walking back toward them, I can see Lily bobbing along in Oren’s lap, her legs moving in rhythm with the sound of his voice. Her hands grip on tightly to his fingers as she stands upright, bouncing and giggling, completely enthralled by him. His deep voice fills the air with something familiar that has me stopping in my tracks, listening.

“I was livin' to run and runnin' to live Never worried about payin' or even how much I owed Movin' eight miles a minute for months at a time Breakin' all of the rules that would bend.”

I’m a little caught off guard by the entire scene. Lily’s eyes are curious and entertained, Oren’s face is relaxed, completely absorbed in the moment. The sight of the tough, tattooed hockey player and our small but mighty daughter bouncing to a Bob Seger classic makes my insides absolutely melt. But I can’t get lost in these emotions, so I fall back on the familiar and tease him.

“Seriously? Bob Seger ?” I say, walking up to them with a grin. “I thought your love for Night Moves was a one-off. Now I’m starting to think you’re a closet yacht-rock dad.”

Oren looks up at me, grinning. “Hey! That song was by request. Look at her. She loves it.” His voice is light, teasing. Even when he isn’t singing, Lily is completely captivated by the sound of his voice.

I laugh, shaking my head. “Sure, and I’m to believe that there was no coercion in that request?”

His grin widens, mischief in his eyes. “What can I say? She’s got great taste already.”

“Uh, huh.” I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms as I watch them both. “I’ve literally never heard you listen to anything other than rap. You’re really going all in on this Bob Seger thing, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, still holding Lily steady, stabilizing her anytime she starts to lose her balance. “Gotta have range, Rachel. Can’t just limit myself to one genre. Besides, we need her asking for the classics before she can ask for all that baby music. I’m doing us all a favor.”

I smirk, sitting down on the bench next to him, watching him as he effortlessly shows off all of these different sides of himself that are so much more than the rough, tattooed hockey player.

“Ah, an act of service,” I tease, shaking my head again. “You just keep telling yourself that. I’m sure next week it’ll be Springsteen, and then before we know it, she’ll be quoting The Stones.”

Oren winks at me, adjusting Lily’s position in his lap so that she is facing me. “See? You get it. I’ve got plans for her musical education. Just wait until she’s old enough for Born to Run .”

I can’t help but laugh at the image. “Well, as long as you’re the one explaining what Night Moves really means when she’s old enough to ask, I’m fine with it.”

Oren chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “No way, she’s never going to date, let alone need to know about what night moves actually are.”

I shake my head, but there’s something undeniably sweet about the whole thing. Seeing him like this is nothing like what I expected, which with him seems to be par for the course. We’ll work on the overprotective dad thing later before he keeps his word when she tries to go on her first date.

We sit on the bench for a while, letting the sun cast a warm glow over us. Each time I make eye contact with Oren, I let my gaze linger, each look from him getting worse. His facial expression says I’m the only thing in the world that matters. It’s messing with my head, and my body’s practically screaming at him to keep going.

Oren looks over at me, leaning closer. “You’re staring, Rachel,” he says, his voice teasing but gruff enough to make my stomach do somersaults. “Like what you see?”

Cheeky, son of a bitch. I scoff, trying to play it cool even though my legs feel like jelly. “Am not.”

“Very mature,” he shoots back with a wink.” “You look like you want to drag me behind a tree and–”

“Oren!” I cut him off with a sharp look, no doubt my cheeks are already turning pink.

He smirks, that smug grin making my pulse race faster. “What? Just calling it like I see it. Don’t pretend you’re not thinking about it.”

“You’re a handful.” I bite my lip, trying to regain some control of myself.

He raises an eyebrow, “Oh, I'll get a few handfuls alright.” His eyes drag over my chest, down the curve of my hips.

My breath hitches, but he still makes me smirk at him. “Confident, are we?”

“Always,” he says, his voice dropping a bit. He shifts Lily in his lap, his eyes never leaving mine. “And I think you like it when I’m cocky.”

I cross my arms, trying to act like I’m unaffected, but it's an absolute lie. “Cockiness is only attractive when you have the confidence to back it up.”

“No one has ever accused me of lacking confidence,” he replies smoothly, his gaze dipping to my lips for just a second before flicking back to my eyes. “I’m very sure of myself. And of what you want, too.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. He’s leaning into this, testing my will power, making it harder and harder to keep my cool. His words are a challenge, one I know he won’t back up, the heat in his eyes says it all.

“You’re awfully cocky for someone who can barely stand up on their own,” I counter, forcing extra sass into my tone.

He grins, his voice smooth. “I don’t need to stand up to show you exactly what I can do.”

The way his words send a jolt of heat through me has me biting my lip and jumping off the bench. I scoop up Lily, getting her situated in her stroller. I turn back to Oren as he smiles at me. I clear my throat, “Time for a nap. Let's get back to the apartment.”