Page 112 of Elite Player
I feel him smile against my skin. “It works for dinosaur shifters. Couldn’t hurt to try on you.”
Playing along, I rub my chin over his ear and temple, and Nico chuckles quietly. “God, I love you.”
I nod and tuck myself more firmly against him, damp skin cooling after that bright fire burned out. Although from the way Nico shifts under me, grips my thighs, and curls his hips up, that smoldering will kick into flames soon enough.
“What do you say we move this party to the bedroom?”
I cling to him, tracing the tip of my tongue over his ear. “Thank you, Nico.”
He slaps my ass and stands. “Let’s see how many times I can make you say that tonight.”
“Love you,” I coo, and he hums.
“Let’s see how many times I can make you say that too.”
EPILOGUE
NICO
I’m sprawledout on the couch with Jo tucked against my side, her head on my chest and Gus asleep on my other side. Our little family of three. This is how we’ve spent most of our Sundays now that the season is over.
Lazy morning sex, brunch, TV, and cuddling.
“What happened?” Jo asks, leaning back to look up at me. “I think I fell asleep for a minute.”
I didn’t catch the details, too focused on watching Jo’s dark locks slide through my fingers. “They were having a meeting on the mound, and all of a sudden, one of them was spitting chiclets.”
“Oh my god. Worse than hockey.”
I snort. “Nah. Fights in baseball are usually dudes standing around, holding each other back. Least they actually did something with this one.”
Enough to clear out the benches.
On the screen, the umpires and coaches pull the fighting players off each other, but the wild thing is they’re two from the same team. Brothers, no less. The commentators explain, “Austin Ashwood has the reputation for being hot-tempered, but this isoutrageous. I don’t think anyone would have expected him to go after Brett Ashwood, his own brother.”
“Ooh. Scandalous,” Jo says, clearly amused.
“What? You a baseball fan now?”
“Maybe. I didn’t realize it was so dramatic. The players are cute too.”
I huff. “They are not.”
She sits up, dark eyes bright that she’s found my weakness. “Are you jealous?”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“You are! You don’t like me crushing on other players.”
“Yeah.” I pinch her side until she giggles. “’Cause you’re crushing on the Ashwoods.”
She pecks a kiss on my cheek. sweetly. “But you’re still my favorite.”
I hook my arm around her neck, dragging her to me for a real kiss. One that reminds her of the three orgasms I gave her this morning. By the time I let her go, I know I’ve succeeded, from the drunk look on her face. “All right.” She giggles. “Hockey is still the best.”
I settle her back against me, satisfied. Baseball might be America’s pastime, but hockey is one of the top global sports, and because I play in the NHL, that means I am one of the best players in theworld. So, take that, Ashwood brothers.
This past season ended with a good play-off run, with us losing in the semifinals. It was a tough loss, but I think the Iron is in a solid position to come back to win it all next year. While the front office decided to keep me, they did end up trading Rovie for two younger players right before the deadline. They had me sweating for a bit, but I’m safe for now, a one-year contract extension under my belt.
