Page 18

Cash

Friday afternoon, I'm in a crap mood. The team physician told me my skates wouldn't touch ice for at least another month.

My head is pounding, my lips haven't touched a drink, and Quinn's been in the shower for the past twenty minutes without me.

I roll onto my side, pull a pillow over my head, and groan into the mattress.

This concussion is butchering me.

I can't even get out of bed to properly fuck my wet and slippery girlfriend.

The shower pipes screech to a halt, exciting the ever-loving shit out of me as the bathroom door flies open. Her smooth, bare, and wet body strolls into the room.

Quinn leans forward, grinning. "Let me under those sheets already. I'm cold."

It takes several seconds for my brain to connect to my mouth and body. She looks phenomenal. I love her au-natural and without an ounce of makeup. "Shit. Yeah. Get that naked body in here."

Shuffling over to the other side of the bed, I pull back the sheets and look over at her.

"You look a little grumpy." She nuzzles up against my side, giving me her strange, elusive smile.

"Fucking concussion," I say, eyeing her. "I feel super weak, and my head is killing me."

"Poor baby. Need a cuddle?" She had a fire in her eyes I hadn't seen since the night I made her a blanket fort.

Seeing her lie naked in my bed and feeling her soft skin pressed up against my body is frustrating as hell. Feeling so nauseous and not being able to give her what she wants sucks. I gaze down at her left breast, so round and soft, her nipple hard and pink.

"God, I love you," I tell her cleavage. "I'm having such a bad day. Can I please bury my face in you?"

She giggles and changes her voice to some goofy high-pitched tone, pretending her tits can talk. "We would be delighted to let you rub your stubble all over us."

"Fuck, Quinn, I wish my head wasn't pounding like a motherfucker. I'm dying to be inside you." I rub my face all over her tits, even giving each nipple a little lick.

Quinn giggles again, and when I pull away, she cuddles up closer to my side and lets out a tiny sigh.

"You look so beautiful." I lean to kiss her.

"You always say that especially when I get out of the shower."

I shrug and lick her neck. Fuck. She tastes like strawberries and cream. "Let me take you out tonight."

She shakes her head, laughing. "No. You aren't feeling well. Not a good idea."

"I don't care. I want to go out in public with you. There's nothing to hide from anymore. Hilton knows. Daniela knows. We deserve a coming-out party."

"I don't know." She straightens, staring out the window, not looking at me.

I reach for her hand and slip my fingers between hers. "You said you choose me. And I said I will prove to you that I choose you. So you need to agree to go out with me in public tonight."

Quinn's eyes widen as she glances around my bedroom. "Okay," she says quietly, her gaze searching mine. "But can I request something?"

With her hair tucked behind her ears and looking so small sitting beside me, I feel an utterly foreign panic. Was this all wrong for her? Was this not what she wanted?

"Anything," I tell her.

She grins.

"If you take me out on a real date, I want it all. I want you to wait patiently in the living room for me to get ready. Then you take me out for a fancy dinner where you try to impress me. Afterward, I want a stroll down the beach where you hold my hand. Finally, you drop me off at the spare bedroom and give me a good night kiss."

I look at her fingers woven between mine and then up to her smiling face. "What Mittens wants, Mittens gets."

"Good." She giggles. "Because what Mittens wants right now is for you to rest up with some serious cuddling and an epic nap."

She slides down beside me again and cozies up next to me.

I smile against the top of her head and plant a few kisses on her damp hair.

I close my eyes and wrap my arms tightly around her.

I take a deep breath and am slowly lulled to sleep by the sound of our hearts beating together and all around us.

___________

By the time I wake up from our nap, the high from the thought of taking Quinn out on an actual date in public fizzles into a strange ache beneath my ribs.

She isn't in my bed, but I can hear her moving around the kitchen. I toss my blankets off and lean back against the headboard, looking into the inky darkness of my bedroom. My place is much smaller than my penthouse back in Bexley, but in the past week that Quinn has been here in Santa Anna, this place feels more like home to me than my mother's house in Newfoundland.

Without turning on any lights, I strip down, go to the bathroom and step into the shower.

I stand under the hot spray and close my eyes, hoping the sound of water will drown out the noise in my head.

It doesn't work. My muscles are tense and sore, and the subtle ache in my chest makes it almost impossible for my thoughts not to get back to Quinn continually and what she has given up for me.

I've never been the type of guy to obsess over a woman, but when it comes to Quinn, she's all I can think about.

Quinn isn't only gorgeous, but she's also brilliant, creative, and driven.

I knew I had to have her from the moment I saw her.

It wasn't until we had sex that I knew we were truly compatible. I still have a hard time wrapping my head around how someone as remarkable as Quinn has come into my life, but her unconditional love pushes me up like steam beneath my skin, warm, comforting, and impossible to ignore. Quinn accepts me, embraces me even, as quickly as she does everything else.

I turn off the water, suddenly too warm. For a beat, I regret not sending her back to Boston. But I remind myself that this is what she wants, I am what she wants, and when Quinn decides something, there is no chance of changing it.

I've lived without the privilege to touch her skin, taste her sounds, and feel her smooth body all night. But when I walk into my bedroom and study my reflection in the mirror on my wall, I look suddenly unfamiliar to myself. I stand straighter, my eyes are brighter, and I smile more.

I ran my fingers over the ring she made me now bound on my left ring finger and smiled. Even I can see some hope in my eyes that hadn't been there before.

__________

"I wish those girls would stop staring," Quinn says as I press my lips to her forehead and run a fingertip along her cheek, smoothing the skin there. I kiss one cheek and then the other, brushing my nose along her jaw on my way back to her ear. I can't keep my hands off of her.

"Who cares," I whisper. "Let them stare. You're a babe, and I'm the luckiest man in the world right now."

I lean back in my chair and smile at Quinn, sitting beside me at a local restaurant, trying to calm her down as I pretend to survey the room.

Moonlight shines through the ocean-side windows, casting diagonal shadows across the plank flooring throughout the dining area.

The furniture is very modern with clean lines and surprisingly very stylish.

"They aren't staring because I'm a babe," she says matter-of-factly. "They are staring because I'm with you. Cash Brooks. Sex on skates." She pops her last piece of steak into her mouth and then takes a slow sip of water to wash it down.

I smooth a hand down my mouth, over my chin, holding her gaze.

She has no idea how beautiful she is and how much a room lights up with her presence.

I may be the hockey star, but no one would stare at me this long if I weren't with such a stunning and classy woman like Quinn. Her hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, and her lipstick is cherry red. She's wearing a girly frilly skirt that stops above the knee and shows off her long legs.

Her top is tight and red, and her breasts look fan-fucking-tastic.

All I can think about is how much I would love to lift that tight-ass tank over her head and unzip that skirt to see it all fall around her waist. Or maybe drop to the floor.

"Forget them," I say with a shrug. "This is our coming-out party. And I love being out with you in the public eye for once. And of course, I love that you're all jealous and whatnot of those girls making eyes at me," I tease but become serious. "But the only girl I'm staring at is you, Mittens."

She waits, thinking. For the first time, I realize she's not blushing from my teasing. I can see love in her eyes—without uncertainty or distrust looming. I like the way she constantly studies things, especially me.

She finally gives into the smile she's been fighting. "Tell me, Mr. Brooks. Is our coming out everything you've dreamed of and more?"

I take her hand from under the table, lift it to my mouth and kiss her palm. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

Click

I crank my head to the right to see some guy snapping pictures of us outside the restaurant window. I bang my fist on the glass. "Hey, get out of here."

The guy continues to snap photos of us, and other guests turn their attention to our table. I'm shaking inside, trying to hide how incredibly furious I am that this douchebag is ruining our dinner with his need to broadcast my love life in the tabloids. Quinn doesn't deserve this.

"I said get out of here!" I yell again before I feel Quinn's soft hand cover mine.

I glance across the table at her to see her smiling darkly at my lips. "What's a coming-out party if you don't give the people what they want?" she whispers.

"You're okay with this?" I ask cautiously. "These pictures are going to be all over the internet tomorrow."

With a wicked smirk, Quinn reaches behind me, and I feel my eyes falling closed, my senses rising in anticipation of her touch.

She gently runs her fingers through my hair, barely brushing her mouth against my neck as she leans in and kisses me gently.

I can hear the camera click, click, click outside until Quinn pulls away from our kiss.

She turns her head so she's facing the photographer and gives him a wave with a big smile on her face. She looks back at me with a wink, "It's confirmed. We're officially a real couple now, Brooks."

____________

Couple Alert!

Cash Brooks might finally be off the market.

In a photo taken last night, Quinn Ashby, the daughter of Hilton Ashby (ex-NHL goaltender and current president of the Santa Anna Tornadoes and their affiliate AHL team, the Bexley Bruisers), is seen cozying up to Santa Anna Tornadoes center-ice bad-boy Cash Brooks during a romantic dinner date at Fellinos, an Italian restaurant in downtown Santa Anna.

The two haven't publicly announced their relationship—if it is, indeed, a relationship—but Ashby made it clear Brooks was her man when she planted her cherry-red lips on him for the camera. Furthermore, Ashby and Brooks posted a selfie at Flamingo Beach on Ashby's Instagram later that night, further fueling speculation that the two might be hockey's latest item. Ashby is a Harvard Business School student, but from how friendly they looked together, spring break has been pretty good for her and Brooks.

It's only a matter of time before the two officially announce their coupledom. Hopefully, Daddy approves of his little girl hooking up with hockey's biggest headliner.

I feel Quinn's smile as we finish reading the article on my iPad. The bed shifts and my breath ruffles her hair. I keep my features relaxed and exhaled even because I don't want her to see how worried I am that our relationship is finally out in the open.

Daniela is not going to react well to the news.

The only saving grace is that Quinn loves me, and I can finally let the world know she's mine.

"Well, looks like the entire world knows now, Mittens . . ."

I struggle to hide how much she affects me, how my present thoughts can barely be torn from the fantasy of my fists in her hair, the way my thumbs can completely cover her tiny pink nipples or how her clit is the softest part of anybody I'd ever touched. All night long, I wore her out with my cock, but I still wanted to taste her from her toes to her earlobes even though we just woke up.

"Thank God," she sighs, and I hear the exhaustion in her words.

I'm not sure I've fully appreciated how difficult hiding our relationship must have been for her to balance what she sees as her responsibility to me, her internship, her education, and even her father. I imagine it must feel like being pulled in every direction.

"I know this changes everything. I am so ready to be with you. I just . . . I don't want you to be punished by your family for being with me."

She laughs into my neck.

"My father is going to freak. There is no doubt about that. Lyndsey is going to think I'm nuts. But I don't care. I'm not impulsive or reckless in my decisions, but it feels good to do what I want finally." She traces a finger along my chest. "I can't believe I kissed you in front of the cameras and then posted a selfie of us on Instagram."

I lean down and kiss her forehead.

Her finger stills, and she looks up at me. "All I wanted was the world to know how much I love and believe in you. I want to be good to you."

"I want to be good to you too."

Our kisses between the sheets, and with her body coiled tight and sweet, sucking me in, everything else slips away.

Quinn's mine, and I am hers. Her scent and the sounds she makes cloud my brain and make my thrusting erratic and hard. She's panting, moaning, drenched, and pulling me deeper inside her.

Her legs clamp around my hips, and she flips me over with a laugh, riding me with her back arched away and her head thrown back, fingers digging into my abdomen, anchoring herself in me.

Her skin shines, and I sit up underneath her, needing to feel the slide of her chest over mine as she slithers and slides. I push her back again, hovering over her once more, this time with her legs on my shoulders and her mouth quivering as she struggled to find words.

Her nails dug into my back, and I hissed, telling her "I love you" and "Yes" and wanting her to mark me, to leave something that would still be there tomorrow when she has to leave for Boston again.

She comes once and then again, and I pull at her hair, looking at her wild and untamed. I collapse on her, incoherently stringing words together as I come, trying to tell her what we both already know: that whatever happens outside of this room is irrelevant.