Page 72 of Season's Schemings
He’s got me.
One of his hands moves to caress my face, the back of his knuckles dragging over my rapidly flushing skin. “Madelyn,” he murmurs, barely breaking the kiss, and my name sounds sweet on his lips.
He kisses my jawline. My neck. His hands slide under my sweater and across my stomach, sending a million butterflies coursing through me as his mouth returns to claim mine again, sweet and sure and entirely incredible. I want to live in this moment, in this sensation, forever.
I pull back from the kiss and run my hands over his bare torso, gratified to feel him shiver beneath my touch. The trail of goosebumps that now follows my fingers.
“I want…” I start, my voice shaky. Unsure.
His eyes darken as he waits for me to find my words, and the sight of him—lips swollen, hair tousled, eyes focused on me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him—makes me entirely sure of what it is I want to say.
“I want to be husband and wife for real tonight,” I confess, my cheeks reddening.
I can see on his face that he wants this—wants me—too, and his hands tighten slightly on my hips as if he’s restraining himself. He hesitates.
“Are you sure?” His voice is ragged and his eyes are a dark pool of longing that I want to dive right into.
“Always with the thoughtful,” I say through a smile as I throw myself into my husband’s arms. He picks me up and my legs circle around his waist as he holds me close, kissing me and kissing me and kissing me while carrying me to the bed.
“I’m assuming that’s a yes?” he murmurs as he presses an open mouth kiss to the base of my neck, sending a bolt of heat all the way to my stomach.
And I realize I have never, ever wanted something more than I want my husband right now.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” I reply.
And it’s all the assurance he needs for tonight.
26
SEB
The cold, circulated air is thick with the scents of rubber and ammonia, along with a touch of sweat and leather. With the sound of skates scraping over freshly Zamboni-ed ice and sticks clashing against pucks. The buzz of Coach’s yells over the rink, rising over everything else.
Today is our second post-Christmas team practice, and I’m back in my happy place.
Well, up until very recently, I would’ve considered it to be my one and only happy place.
Until Maddie came along and rearranged everything.
Now, my happy place isn’t aplace,per se.
It’s waking up to my wife’s brown hair spread over my white pillows, her breathing short and hiccupy as she snuggles her face into my chest. Which is the cutest damn thing. It’s having this woman to return home to at the end of a hard practice. It’s my apartment still bursting with ridiculous, over-the-top Christmas decorations that make it clear that the people who live there actuallylivethere, instead of just showering and sleeping there after a long day of workouts and game tape and ice time.
Since we got back from Aspen a couple days ago, we’ve fallen back into our pre-holidays routine of coming home together, cuddling, and watching movies—including lots of Hallmark romances.
The only change from before Christmas is that Maddie now sleeps next to me. In my bed.
Well,ourbed.
After all those nights in Aspen, sleeping next to each other, why go back to sleeping separately when we are, indeed, man and wife? Especially given how magical that last night at the cabin was. How much I was able to express to her without having to say anything at all… It was perfect.
Shewas perfect.
And I want her next to me every night so that I can touch her, hold her, kiss her until she’s breathless.
We haven’t really discussed what happens next. When Mike called me on Boxing Day, it was to let me know that he’d set up a meeting between Roger and me for this afternoon. He was cryptic with the details, but insisted that I’d want to be present for it.
I have no idea what he’s going to say, but I do know that whatever it is, it doesn’t change the fact that I want to be with Maddie.