Page 140 of Make Me Yours

“I hate seeing you like this,” I murmur. “Tense and sad. Questioning yourself and the decisions you’ve made.”

“I’m okay,” she whispers.

“No, you’re not. But I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you will be.”

I run my hands down her arms, over her ribs, and across her stomach. She stills, tension rippling through her when my palm slips between her thighs. She moans as I touch her the way I know she needs. Slow, skilled, and focused entirely on her. I worship every inch of her like it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do.

And when she starts to unravel in my arms, I catch her.

She lets out a moan when I press her against the wall, caged in between my bigger body and the tiles. Her fingers bite into my shoulders as she wraps her legs around my waist.

“Please don’t hold back,” she pleads.

That’s the last thing I’m going to do.

Because this isn’t just about pleasure.

It’s about reminding her she’s wanted.

Loved.

Cherished.

Not for what she does.

Or who people expect her to be.

But for exactly who she is.

After we’ve both found our release, I hold her close, my hands gentle as I rinse her clean.

She leans her forehead against mine with her eyes closed. “Thank you. Somehow, you always know exactly what I need.”

I press a kiss to her lips. “And don’t you ever forget it, lucky charm.”

If I have my way, I’ll spend the rest of my days making sure she never questions where she belongs.

Or the man she belongs to.

43

STEELE

With my elbows braced on my knees and eyes locked on the stretch of fresh ice in front of me, I sit alone in the empty arena. The air inside the rink is cool, crisp, and silent. It feels like the calm before the storm.

This place has always been my sanctuary.

Even before I turned pro, the rink was where everything made sense. No noise, no headlines, no bullshit. Just the scrape of skates, the sharp cut of blades, and the rhythm of the game.

Today, it feels different.

Heavier.

I drag a hand down my face just as my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Bridger’s name lights up the screen.

Although, if you want to get technical, “fuckface” is the name that flashes on the device.