Page 45 of What If I Hate You (Anaheim Stars Hockey #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

BARRETT

I kiss her jaw, the curve of her neck and every inch of skin I can reach, not because I’m trying to rush us anywhere, but because I can’t stop tasting her.

I don’t want to stop tasting her.

She’s warm and trembling under my hands, and I swear I could live right here forever.

I want her to feel everything. Not just that I want her, but that I see her. That I’m here. That there’s no version of her—reporter, skater, stubborn-as-hell fighter—that I don’t love.

That I won’t love.

Her breath hitches as my lips find the hollow of her collarbone, a soft sigh escaping like a secret I’m the only one privy to.

I’m consumed by this moment, the heat between us crackling like electricity, igniting something deep within me.

I drag my hands down her sides, relishing the way her body arches instinctively toward me, as if it knows we’re bound together in this space, this time.

With every kiss, I want her to forget everything outside these walls; her ambition, the stories she’s spun about me, all the reasons she thinks we shouldn’t be here.

I lift my head to meet her gaze, and the intensity of her eyes sends a rush through me.

There’s a wildness there that speaks to our rivalry, but beneath it lies something genuine.

Something raw and unfiltered that tethered us together in the first place.

I carry her to my bedroom, where the sheets are cool against her heated skin, and I can’t resist the urge to map every inch of her with my own body.

I hover above her, my weight supported by my forearms as I drink in the sight of her.

Her hair splayed out like an offering, eyes dark and inviting.

I press myself against her, feeling every pulse of her heartbeat beneath my skin.

The air is thick with anticipation, a simmering tension that sends shivers racing down my spine.

She bites her lip, a gesture so innocent yet charged with promise that I can barely hold back the urge to claim her again.

“Barrett,” she whispers, and even in that single word, I can hear the challenge laced within. She’s never been one to back down, and I know that this moment is just as much about her taking control as it is about me wanting her more than I ever thought possible.

I lower my mouth to her ear, my breath hot against her skin. “You might be the one writing the headlines, but right now? Right this very second, I want to write this story.”

She shudders at my words, the fight in her fading for just a second, and it’s intoxicating. I want to unravel her, take her apart piece by piece until she’s laid open before me, vulnerable and raw. And then I want to love her through every second of putting her back together.

“This isn’t just sex this time,” I tell her. “We’re good at that part. Being with you is like opening my favorite book. The one I want to read over and over again because it never gets old.”

I dip my head and circle my tongue around the taut peak of her nipple, her back arching in response.

“Being with you is like tasting something I know I’ll crave for the rest of my life.”

I kiss between her breasts and suck her other nipple between my lips.

“Oh God, Bear…”

“It’s like being able to exhale after holding my breath for years and now all I want to do for the rest of my days is breathe with you.”

My mouth finds hers again, and suddenly, every kiss, every tender caress becomes a promise.

I can feel her warmth radiating against me, wrapping around my heart like a lifeline.

This is more than just skin touching skin; it’s the melding of two souls who’ve fought hard to stand where they are now.

Her fingers clutch my shoulders, nails digging in slightly, urging me closer, deeper, demanding I lose myself in her.

I pull back, just enough to catch her gaze, those fierce, determined eyes staring up at me like she’s weighing every word I say.

I slide my hand underneath the waistband of her sweatpants until my fingers connect with the warmth between her thighs.

Her mouth falls open as she gasps lightly at my soft touch.

She’s so wet for me already.

Fuck, if I could let my fingers swim in this every day I would.

“I love you, Blakely Rivers. And I want to spend the rest of this night showing you just how much.” My voice is thick and low, full of that simmering desire that’s become the backdrop to everything we’ve been through together.

I slide my finger through her arousal until I reach the small swollen nub of her clit and she moans with unbridled pleasure.

The heat in her eyes lets me know she wants me just as much as I want her.

“I don’t need the rough and tumble tonight, Bear,” she replies, her tone equal parts tender and hungry. ”I just need you. This. Your hands. Your mouth. Your body…your love.”

“Everything you want from me is yours,” I murmur against her and then I dive back in, capturing her mouth with mine. I take my time, savoring the way she responds, how she melts under my touch like I’m igniting something inside her. I want to consume her, every single piece.

Her body arches pleading for more as the rhythm of my fingers matches the urgency in her breaths.

Each pulse, each gasp draws me deeper into the gravity of this moment, this exquisite collision of want and need that’s spiraling out of control.

I can’t help but lose myself in her, in the way she writhes beneath me like a flame dancing in the dark.

“God, Blake,” I whisper, my voice rough with desire, fingers continuing their tantalizing exploration, brushing and circling until she begins to quiver against me. “You’re everything.”

Her eyes roll back slightly as I work her clit with precision, a mix of soft strokes and firm pressure that makes her moan my name like it’s a prayer.

I’m not just trying to bring her pleasure, I want to drown her in it, show her all the ways I adore her—every part of her that makes her so fiercely unique.

I want her completely and utterly bare before me.

The very idea of it sends a rush of heat coursing through my veins.

With deliberate care, I slide my fingers from her slick core and grasp the waistband of her sweatpants, pulling them down with a teasing slowness that draws a desperate whimper from her lips.

The moment those pants hit the floor, her skin glows in the dim light.

"So, fucking beautiful," I murmur, my voice rough with need.

"Then stop staring and do something about it," she challenges, her breathing heavy and that familiar competitive spark in her eyes.

I trail kisses up her thighs, my breath warm against her silky skin. "Patience was never your strong suit, was it, Rivers?"

"Bear," she gasps as I near where she needs me most. "Please."

"Please what?" I ask, pausing to look up at her. "Tell me exactly what you want."

Her fingers tangle in my hair. "I want your mouth on me. Now."

I can't help but smirk. "So, demanding."

"You love it," she breathes.

"I love you," I correct before dipping my head. My tongue, hot and eager, finds her with a fervor that makes her gasp. The taste of her is sweet, like honey mixed with a hint of desperation, and I can’t get enough. I lick and tease and lick and tease, swirling my tongue around her sensitive bud, feeling her body arch and twist beneath me as if she’s trying to escape the overwhelming sensations.

"Oh god, yes," she cries out. "Right there."

I pause just long enough to say, "No escaping, Blake. I'm not stopping until you come apart for me."

"Bear, please…" she manages between ragged breaths and I hear every plea.

I dive back in, my tongue circling her with enough pressure to coax out those sweet sounds that drive me wild.

She writhes beneath me, a mix of urgency and pure ecstasy, and the way her body responds to my every movement fuels the fire raging inside me.

I’m desperate to push her further, to explore every inch of this uncharted territory we’ve stumbled into.

“Barrett!” she gasps, and the way my name falls from her lips, tangled with pleasure, ignites something primal within me.

I suck her clit between my lips, flicking my tongue against it, and I can feel her legs start to tremble.

It’s like holding a live wire, and the intensity of her reaction only spurs me on.

“Don’t hold back, babe,” I murmur against her skin before diving back in, my mouth moving with a hungry determination.

I want every ounce of her joy, every peak of her pleasure, laid bare for me to witness.

I can’t help the growl of satisfaction that escapes as I feel her body tighten, the way she begins to shake with need. It’s intoxicating.

I can see the way she fights against the pleasure, trying to hold back, but I’m not letting her. I want her to let go, to surrender to me completely.

“Let it go, Blake,” I urge, my voice thick with desire as I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. “You’re safe with me. Just feel. Let me have your pleasure.” The words slip out, raw and unfiltered, a promise wrapped in need.

And then she does it. I watch as her expression shifts into something softer and more vulnerable. Her eyes flutter shut and her breath quickens, and I take that as my cue to dive deeper into her. I resume my relentless exploration, my mouth devouring her with the urgency of a man starved.

The sounds she makes are intoxicating, each moan and gasp pushing me further into a haze of lust. I can’t help but lose myself in the rhythm of it.

In the way her body moves beneath my hands, the way her skin feels warm and electrified against my mouth.

Every flick of my tongue elicits another sweet sound, and I’m addicted to the way she responds, how she writhes, pleading for more.