Page 21 of Hat Trick (Titans Hockey #1)

Chapter eighteen

Emily

T he boys have been hovering all day. I get two little boo boos and you'd think I was dying.

Before, I would have hated all the extra attention, but now I find it flattering.

I'm glad they care enough about me to worry.

Lord knows I care enough about them, and I have to watch them tackle grown men with blades on their feet almost nightly.

I made the mistake of looking up NHL injury statistics once and now every time I watch them play, I give myself an ulcer.

Thank God I'm not a nail biter because I'd have none left.

The boys had a cheat day, so we swung by a local diner for dinner before heading home.

We're all exhausted. Between the sun and swimming and drinking beer all day, we're all ready for bed.

I give a sleeping Annie a quick warm wipe bath before setting her in her crib.

She passed out on the way home from the diner and didn't even wake when Carter took her out of her car seat.

Carter bends into her crib and leaves a whisper of a kiss on her forehead before turning to me. He's so close I can feel the heat radiating off of his body.

His eyes bore into mine as he reaches over to my nightstand and grabs the baby monitor in one hand, and my hand in the other.

I swallow down a ball of nerves and let him lead me through his bedroom into his bathroom.

I don't know what's going on, but I don't complain.

I'd go anywhere with Carter. He closes the bathroom door, and the 'snick' of the lock feels ominous .

He releases my hand and turns the water on in the bath, sitting on the edge of it and trailing his hand through the stream, testing for temperature. He sets the plug and stands, turning to face me.

"Can I take care of you?" He asks, his voice low and sultry. I have no idea what he means, what we're doing here, what this is, but I like Carter, and I trust him.

I nod. He slowly turns me so I'm facing away from him, and towards the mirror.

I watch our reflection as he tenderly removes my hair tie and runs his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp.

An involuntary moan escapes my lips and I flush with embarrassment.

I sound like a porn star and he's just massaging my head.

Something's different tonight. Carter's always been touchy-feely, eager to hug or cuddle or rub my feet, but tonight something's shifted. The crackle of energy between us is palpable and the hairs on the back of my arms rises.

"Say the word and I'll stop." I blink up at him silently. "I want to take care of you, Emily. You do so much to take care of everyone else. You stepped in front of a moving train of a hockey player today to protect my daughter."

A part of me is disappointed, but a part of me is relieved. I want him to say he wants me. But I chide myself. I can feel the sexual energy between us, but that's all it is. I'm just the safe choice. He knows I'm not going to expect more or want a future with him.

We're two adults with needs. That's it.

But the way he's looking at me, eyes fierce with heat, starts a warmth in my chest that's rapidly spreading south.

He lifts my arms before pulling my tank top off.

Next, he strips off his shirt, then my shorts.

We're still in our bathing suits, but it feels raw, exposed, intimate.

I wrap my arms around my midsection, uncomfortable.

I watch in the mirror as he brushes my hair off of my neck and plucks the string of my bikini.

Our eyes meet in the reflection, a silent question.

There's no denying I want this man. He was the main character in most of my self-care fantasies for years.

But fantasizing about Carter, and really being with Carter, are two completely different things.

My heart has lost it's rhythm and is jackhammering against my rib cage and I feel dizzy. The noise of the water is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears.

I bite my lip.

And nod.

He undoes the top strings of my bikini, before the back strings, and I stand in front of Carter, Captain of the Titans, topless.

He lightly kisses my shoulder before undoing the strings on either side of my hips, letting the fabric fall away.

His board shorts go next, and I suck in an inhale.

My eyes shoot up to avoid staring at his naked cock.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Plays on repeat in my head.

Shock and nerves and overwhelm don't let in any other thoughts.

Until Carter trails his hand down my arm, and laces his fingers through mine.

He leads me to the bath and holds my hand while I step in.

He turns the water off and steps in behind me.

He sits, legs wide, places his hands on my hips and guides me down so I'm siting, my back to his front, between his thick thighs.

I lean back gently. I'm shaking like a leaf, arms covering my chest. Until I feel the length of him. My wide eyes get bigger. He's hard and huge and he's pressing into my lower back. Carter's turned on. By me.

"Ignore Mjolnir." He says .

And in two words, the thick, intense energy in the room vanishes and I snort a laugh. "You did not name your dick Mjolnir," I laugh.

"Thor's hammer? No. I didn't, but one of the puck bunnies posted about it online and called it that. I guess it stuck."

I laugh louder, my body instantly relaxing against his.

This is us. Friends. We relax together, find comfort in each other.

He's my best friend. I know I never have to be nervous around him, and he can relax with me.

Here, in this bathroom, he can leave all the stressors of his life outside.

He's not team captain, not a hockey player, not a dad.

Here, with me, he's just Carter. And I love that I get to see a side of him no one else does.

"What are we doing here, Carter?" I whisper after the laughing dies down.

"Taking care of each other. That's what we do best, right?"

I guess it is. He gently peels the band aids off my knees and does on overhead arc, tossing them in the trash. "You missed your calling as a basketball player."

"Basketball's a garbage sport."

"You've got the height for it."

"Are you saying I'm not good at hockey?"

I give a playful shrug. "Gretsky was better."

"You little shit." He growls as he digs his fingers into my ribs. I squeal and squirm in his grasp, trying to pull away. He releases me and we settle back into a comfortable silence. He picks up a loofa and squirts some body soap on it.

"I'm going to smell like a guy!" I whine.

"It'll be an improvement." He growls back, lightly biting my shoulder .

He takes his time, running the loofa over my back, my shoulders, my breasts.

He nudges me to rise and I'm instantly self-conscious that my pussy is eye-level.

But he never looks at it. He simply washes my stomach, my ass, my thighs, my calves.

He's careful to avoid my knees. He motions for me to sit again and pushes me down until my head is in his lap, hair in the water.

I feel a tap on the back of my head. I gasp.

Did he just hit me with his dick?

His cheeks go pink, and he winces. "Sorry.

" He groans and I can't help but smile. He's fucking adorable, even if he did just smack me in the back of my head with his dick.

His cheeks and the tops of his ears pinkens.

I love confident Carter. I love playful Carter.

I love serious-badass-enforcer Carter. But blushing Carter might just be my favorite.

He pulls me back up to sitting before squirting some shampoo into his hand and massaging it into my scalp.

My eyes close and I moan.

"Babe. You can't make sounds like that. I'm trying to be a gentleman."

I grin at his internal battle. I don't want you to be a gentleman comes to my mind, but I keep my mouth shut. "That feels amazing." I groan out.

"I'm about to take you over my knee. Are you trying to kill me? I'm trying to be sweet, not horny. But you keep saying things like that and I'll lose it. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

I smile and keep my mouth shut. A more confident Emily would have spun around and climbed him like a tree. This Emily? Not so much .

But Carter Rhodes wants me. Against all odds. Carter Rhodes wants me . I'm sure it's just the forced proximity and the fact that he knows I'd never do anything to hurt him. But I bask in the moment.

He dunks me down again. One hand works the water through my hair to rinse out the shampoo. The other, if I had to guess, is holding down his cock so it doesn't make another accidental appearance. I love this man for trying.

I sit up, squeezing the water out of my hair, before standing and stepping out of the tub.

"Okay. My turn."

"What do you mean?"

I push his shoulder so he slides forward in the tub. "It's my turn to bathe you."

He shakes his head. "Tonight was supposed to be about you. About letting me take care of you."

"And who takes care of you? You say I take care of everyone. And that's true. I like taking care of you and the boys and Annie. But you take care of everyone too. When was the last time you let someone take care of you?"

He scrunches his nose, debating, before sliding forward so I can slide in behind him. I try to press him back against me, the way he had me, but he's huge. His broad shoulders take up most of the bath, and he squishes me.

"God, you're huge." I say, pushing him back up so I can get on my knees.

"Emily." He warns and it's then I realize how that sounded. I laugh again. "I mean. I wouldn't expect Thor's hammer to be tiny. "

"Are we really talking about the size of my dick right now?" He groans, running a hand down his face.

"Lighten up, Roadie. It was just a joke." I steal the loofa from him and get more soap. I scrub his muscled back, shoulders, and the top of his chest - at least where I can reach.

"Stand up." He does and the perfect globes of his ass are eye-level.

I want to bite one. I've never seen a man with such a nice ass.

I graze it with the loofa, eager to move on in case I lose my battle to resist. He was right.

This is fucking hard. I run the loofa down his thighs and muscled calves before he spins.

I clean his shins, his knees, his thighs, working my way higher.

I look down, avoiding staring at the one thing I really want to look at.

I catch movement in my peripheral and realize I'm on my knees, in front of a very naked, very hard, Carter Rhodes. When the fuck did this happen?

"You're right. This is hard." I grumble, needing something to fill the awkward silence.

"Okay, new rule. No moaning, no talking about my dick size, no calling things ' hard'. "

I snort a laugh. "So bossy."

He sits in front of me again, back to me, and grabs both sides of the bathtub so he can lean backwards and give me access to his hair. I squeeze some shampoo into my hands and massage it into his scalp, letting my nails drag across his skin slightly. Goosebumps erupt down his strong arms.

He moans. "Fuck, that feels good."

"Now who sounds like a porn star?"

"What do you know about porn, Miss Emily Jones?" He peaks one eye open to look at my reaction .

I give a half-hearted shrug. "Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

"Fuck, that's hot."

A smile spreads across his handsome face. His eyes are closed, so I enjoy being able to opening stare at him. He really is incredibly handsome.

"Are we adding bather to my list of duties, too? Bathtime buddy? Head massager?" I tease.

"I've got a head you can massage." He snaps back before wincing. "Sorry, locker room humor."

"Walked right into that one." I reply sarcastically.

I tug his head down to dip it under the water and keep up my massage.

For all our teasing, I want him to feel good.

I want him to forget about his responsibilities, the stress that he's under daily.

I want this bathroom, this moment, to be the only thing he's thinking about.

When we go to bed or wake up tomorrow, he can worry about things again.

But tonight, right now, I want to make this good for him.