Page 11 of Love Me (Charlotte Monarchs Hockey #1)

“Of course not.” He smiles. “There’re towels in the cabinet in the bathroom. I’m gonna start on breakfast.”

“Thanks!” I scurry past him to the bathroom.

After a speedy shower, I get dressed in the makeshift pajamas and join him in the kitchen.

As if mind-blowing sex this morning wasn’t enough, he whipped up fried eggs on a bed of spinach, tomatoes, and diced sweet potatoes.

“This is so good. I want, like, fifty helpings of it,” I gush as I shovel another forkful into my mouth.

Luke laughs with a smile that reaches his eyes. “It’s just some leftovers I had in the fridge.” He spins around and points at the fridge. “I have feta. Do you want some?”

“I love feta, but—” I look down at my half-empty plate. “I think I missed that train.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Once I’ve finished, I pick up my plate. Before I have a chance to get off my chair, Luke holds a hand out to me.

“Are you gonna lick it clean or can I take it?” he teases.

I tilt my head. “I was about to bring it to the sink, jerk.”

He laughs. Then he takes the plate from me and rinses it off.

I should be embarrassed by the record time it took me to devour my breakfast, but I’m not. I was absolutely starving. I didn’t realize orgasming hard could make me so hungry.

As Luke cleans up from breakfast, I wander into the living room attached to the kitchen.

“Wow! The artwork in here is gorgeous.” I run my fingers across a canvas on the wall, scanning for the photographer’s name. It’s a beautiful photograph of the ocean at sunset. “Who took these?”

“I did,” Luke answers as he loads our dishes into the dishwasher.

I spin around. “You took these? All of them?”

A hockey player with such a creative eye is completely new to me.

Not to stereotype, but none of Mason’s friends that I knew were interested in anything but hockey, and maybe video games and wheeling, which is what kids in the OHL and WHL call it when they’re out looking for girls. Typical teenage-boy stuff.

Luke nods, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “It’s a hobby. Something to take the stress off.”

“You’re really talented,” I tell him, moving my gaze to a framed black-and-white photo on the mantle above his fireplace.

I pick it up, studying the frail, older woman with thin, wiry, gray hair.

Her collarbone juts through a worn, ripped T-shirt while jeans that are a few sizes too large sit low on her slender hips.

Her eyes are vacant. It’s amazing to me that Luke could catch her essence in a photo.

“Thanks.”

A shiver runs through me as I return the frame to its place.

“Wanna take a picture of me?” I ask, shaking the haunting image out of my head.

Luke’s lips lift. “Naked?” he asks replacing the towel over the oven handle.

“Sure.” I remove my T-shirt for the second time this morning. I should probably just keep it off. I’m standing in Luke’s living room wearing nothing but pink lace underwear, waiting for him to say something.

He doesn’t. He just stares at me with wide eyes like he can’t believe it’s so easy for me to undress in front of him. Which is weird. As a professional hockey player, girls scratch and claw their way through crowds for the chance to get naked for him.

“Not tasteful enough for the wall?” I tease him. I can tell he wants me again; that’s not the question. So what’s with the hesitation?

“You serious?” he asks.

“Well, I mean, you can take a photo if you want.” I shrug. “This is actually my way of trying to get you back between my legs. I thought the whole picture thing would be a clever lead-in since I’m trying to seduce a sexy photographer.”

“You don’t have to seduce me, Bree. I’m ready for you at any time.” Luke crosses the room in two strides and grabs me, holding on to the bare skin at my waist like I’m a life preserver. He lowers his face to mine and claims my mouth.

It’s not enough. My hands move to squeeze his biceps, and I press my bare chest against his and deepen the kiss.

He takes my hand and leads me around the three-quarter wall to the bedroom. His cozy bed greets us, sheets still rumpled from when we were twisted in each other’s limbs an hour ago.

Goose bumps ripple across my skin when Luke presses his lips to my collarbone.

I tilt my neck, giving him full access to kiss and lick.

While he continues his assault, placing soft, wet kisses down my chest, I glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows that span his bedroom wall.

My body shudders with exhilaration when Luke lowers his mouth to my breast and circles one nipple with his tongue as we stand in plain sight.

There’s another high-rise condo across the street, and I wonder if people over there can see in.

The thought alone has my heart racing, and right on cue, Luke takes my nipple in his mouth while simultaneously reaching between my legs.

I’m so wet I’m surprised I’m not dripping all over the hardwood floors.

“Fuck, Bree,” he hisses, sliding two fingers into me. My heart speeds up, and I grab his hair, clenching my fists and pulling his head back.

Despite how amazing his fingers feel, I want nothing more than to have Luke in my mouth.

I drop to my knees and yank his shorts down with one tug. His dick flips out, smacking me in the nose. I laugh out loud.

Luke clenches my hair with both hands, which sends a tingle through my body. “Don’t laugh at it, Bree,” he teases me in a thick, husky voice.

“I’m laughing at myself, Luke,” I say with a smile. Though I obviously know how thick and long he is, it’s a bit intimidating at full attention in front of my face.

But I’m up for the challenge.