Page 37

Nate

M y eyes are glued to my phone. Elena's seen my text—those three little dots have appeared and disappeared twice already. Maybe she’s not ready to talk yet after that photo bullshit.

Maybe pointing at her during the game was too much.

The screen finally lights up with her response, and relief floods my body.

"Absolutely. Where are you taking me?"

My fingers hover over my phone, suddenly unsure. I want this to be perfect.

"Wherever you want to go, I'm there." I send it quickly before I can overthink. I’d rather let her choose in this scenario. I want her to be one-hundred percent comfortable.

Her response comes faster this time: "The Palmer House."

My mouth goes dry. The Palmer House. Where I first saw her across that crowded bar. Where I pretended to be her boyfriend to scare off that persistent asshole. Where everything between us started.

"Perfect. 20 minutes?" I type.

"See you there."

I set the phone down, a smile stretching across my face. I can’t wait to see her.

Luckily, I’ve already showered and am dressed in a pair of black jeans and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. I head out to the Palmer House, knowing I’m going to be a little early, but that’s okay. I take a deep breath. Keep it together, Barnes.

The Palmer House lobby gleams with its usual old-world elegance—polished marble, ornate ceilings, buttery leather chairs.

I make my way to the bar and choose a small table near the back wall.

The bartender recognizes me, nodding as he brings over a Don Julio neat without me asking.

Hockey players tend to be remembered, especially in Chicago.

"Waiting for someone?" he asks.

"Yeah." I find myself smiling again. "She should be here soon."

“Do you know what she’d like to drink?” he asks.

“I’m guessing she’d also like one of these.” I tap my glass and the bartender nods and walks away.

He leaves me with my drink, and I try not to stare at the entrance but I fail miserably. When Elena finally walks in, everything else blurs. Her wavy hair falls loose around her face, and she's scanning the room.

I stand, and her gaze finds mine. The smile that spreads across her face melts my insides immediately.

"Hi," she says, reaching the table.

"Hi." I resist the urge to pull her into my arms. Instead, I brush my fingers against hers as she sits, that small contact has to be enough for now.

"You look beautiful," I tell her as I sit down again.

"Thanks. You look good, too." Her eyes travel over me, lingering on my forearms. I knew rolling up my sleeves was the right call.

The bartender returns with the drink I ordered for Elena.

“You read my mind,” she says, picking up the glass and clinking it against mine, before taking a small sip.

"That was quite a game tonight," she says.

I lean forward, elbows on the table. "I had no idea you'd be there."

"Reese wanted to go. Apparently she has a thing for McCoy these days." Elena raises her eyebrows slightly.

"McCoy, huh? I'll have to tell him tomorrow that he has an admirer."

"Don't you dare." She points a warning finger at me. "She'll kill me."

The soft lighting catches the amber highlights in her dark hair, and I'm struck by how fucking lucky I am to be sitting here with her.

"So," she says, setting her glass down. "About the photo... I believe you. I just got scared."

"Of what?"

"Of everything." She meets my eyes directly. "Of caring this much. Of the public scrutiny. Of wanting this, only to have it fall apart."

"I get that. I do. It’s a lot."

"But I realized something tonight, watching you play." She reaches across the table, her fingers finding mine. "I'm more afraid of not trying this—not seeing what we could be—than I am of getting hurt."

I turn my hand over, interlacing our fingers. "I'm all in, Elena. Whatever it takes."

"Even with my dad watching your every move?"

I can't help but laugh. "I think I can handle him."

"Don't be so sure," she says, but she's smiling again.

We order some food—small plates to share, nothing too heavy. The conversation falls into an easy rhythm, the initial tension melting away. She tells me about her work with the Steel, and I fill her in on the team dynamics she's missed since leaving the Blades.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I say as we're finishing our drinks. "I was going to bring you something tonight as a joke, but I decided it might be in poor taste."

Her eyebrows lift. "Now I'm intrigued."

"A pair of panties." I lean in, lowering my voice.

She bursts out laughing, the sound bright and beautiful. "Oh my god, I'd forgotten about that."

"I haven't forgotten anything about that night," I say, suddenly serious. "Or any night with you since."

Her eyes darken slightly. "Me neither."

I signal for the check, holding her gaze. "Come home with me?"

"Yes," she says without hesitation. "I'd like that."

Outside, the valet brings my car around. Elena stands close beside me, her hand brushing against mine. When the car arrives, I open her door, letting my fingers trail over her lower back as she slides in. The simple touch makes her breath catch, and I know we're thinking the same thing.

After we arrive at my building, the elevator ride to my floor is thirty seconds of pure torture.

Elena stands beside me, close enough that I can smell her perfume.

The air between us crackles with electricity.

We both know what's coming. Her eyes meet mine in the mirrored wall, and the hunger I see there makes my cock jump in my jeans.

The doors slide open. I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward my door. My fingers tremble slightly as I punch in the code. The lock clicks, and I push the door open, stepping aside to let her enter first.

"Would you like a?—"

She cuts me off, turning and pulling me down to her mouth. The kiss is desperate, hungry, months of restraint shattering in an instant. I kick the door shut behind us, backing her against the wall. Her hands are everywhere—in my hair, under my shirt, clutching me.

"Fuck, I've missed you," I breathe against her neck. My hands reach under her sweater, finding her smooth skin. "I've thought about this a million times."

"Me too." Her voice is breathless as she works on my shirt buttons. "I can’t stop thinking about you."

I wrestle her out of her jacket and pull her sweater over her head. She's wearing a black lace bra that I’m aching to rip off. I trace my fingers along the edge of it, watching goosebumps rise on her skin.

"You're so fucking beautiful." I cup her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. "I'm never letting you go again."

She tugs my shirt free. Her hands run over my chest, down to the waistband of my jeans. When she reaches for my belt, I catch her wrists.

"Not yet." I brush my lips against hers.

I scoop her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her down the hallway. She kisses my neck as we go. I set her on the edge of the bed, standing between her spread knees.

"Tell me what you want, baby," I say, my voice rough with desire.

Her eyes darken. "I want all of you, right now."

I push her back onto the bed, crawling over her. "You want me to tell you exactly what I'm going to do to you?"

She nods, biting her lower lip.

"I'm going to taste every inch of you." I trail my fingers down her throat, between her breasts. "Then I'm going to make you come with my mouth. Then my fingers. Then my cock." I press my hips against hers, showing her how hard I am. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget everyone but me."

Her breath catches. "Oh my god."

I kiss her, deep and demanding, before moving down her body.

I take my time, learning her all over again—the curve of her neck, the soft skin below her ear that makes her gasp when I kiss it, the perfect weight of her breasts in my hands.

I unclasp her bra, tossing it aside, and take one nipple into my mouth.

"Nate," she moans, arching into me.

"I've thought about this so many times," I murmur.

I slide lower, trailing kisses down her stomach. Her hands fist in my hair as I reach the edge of her pants. I look up, meeting her eyes as I hook my fingers in the belt loops.

"Lift your hips for me."

She complies, and I drag her pants and black lace panties down her legs, dropping them beside the bed. I spread her thighs wide, settling between them.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," I promise, my breath hot against her pussy. "And I want to hear every sound you make."

The first stroke of my tongue makes her cry out. I groan against her, the taste of her flooding my senses. I take my time, exploring her with my mouth, listening to her gasp and moan. When I slide a finger inside her, her back arches off the bed.

"That's it," I encourage, curling my finger to hit that spot that makes her tremble. "God, you're so wet for me."

She's close already—I can feel it in the way she tightens around my fingers, the way her thigh shakes against my hand. I focus on her clit, adding a second finger inside her, and she falls apart so quickly.

Before she can recover, I'm standing, stripping off my jeans and boxers. Her eyes widen as she takes me in, naked and hard for her. I reach into the nightstand for a condom, and quickly roll it on.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Are you ready for that?”

She nods. The look in her eyes makes my chest tight. I settle over her, bracing my weight on my forearms.

"Are you sure?" I ask, positioning myself at her entrance. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

"No," she says, wrapping her legs around my waist. "I need you. All of you."

I push inside her slowly, watching her face as I fill her. The sensation is overwhelming and I have to hold myself back from driving into her.

"Fuck, baby." My voice breaks. "You feel so good."

I start to move, setting a steady rhythm that has her gasping beneath me. Her nails dig into my back, urging me on.

"Harder," she begs. "I won't break."