Finally—finally!—the guys skate on the ice and that breaks it up for us. We both wheeze for a while but we do catch our breath. “That was way too good to pass up, right?” I ask.

“Oh, I can see it now. You’re gonna have a heyday with this one. He’s gonna have to tough it out, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

HockeyHo is only a few rows away from us so we need to cut off our chat. Then she gets up and waddles down to the glass, which is right next to us, presses her melons against it and yells out Drew’s name. I cup my hand over my mouth and snort again. The back of her midriff tank top has number seventeen on it—Drew’s number. She turns toward us for a second and I see the number is on the front, too.

Caroline leans into me and says, “Told ya.” I can only shake my head.

Then HockeyHo yells, “I’m pulling for ya, Drew. Show ’em what ya got!” And she gives her melons the old one two.

I pull my phone out and snap a photo. I can’t resist.

When the team finishes warming up, they skate into their box and Drew and Sam look up at us. Drew has this sheepish look on his face as he shrugs. I laugh. Then something comes over me and I yell, “I’m pulling for ya, Drew!” And I whistle. That’s my claim to fame. I can whistle really loud with my fingers. He looks at me and blows me a kiss.

HockeyHo’s eyes bulge to match her melons. She looks at me, then at Drew, and back at me. Then she yells, “I said it first, Drew.”

I put my hands over my face, double over, and die laughing. I spread my fingers and can see Drew’s shoulders shaking with laughter.

Honestly, and it’s sad to say, I don’t know who I watch more during the game, Drew or HockeyHo. They are each entertaining in their own diverse ways. HockeyHo is acting the garish team cheerleader. And Drew is spectacular on the ice, to my uneducated hockey eyes. He is graceful, yet aggressive, fast, and accurate with the puck. He has underplayed his abilities, as I knew he would. It amazes me that a man from the south who didn’t grow up skating could master this sport in such short time. I’m not sure if Drew’s team is just that good, or if the team they’re playing is just that bad, but they trounce them eight to zip. Drew scores five goals and gets three assists. And I’m impressed.

His ear-to-ear grin at the end of the game says it all. I’m jumping up and down with Caroline, cheering and yelling, HockeyHo long forgotten. When they emerge from the locker room, showered, and in their street clothes, he picks me up and kisses me.

“You were awesome!”

“I had some fan help!” he says. Then he looks at Sam and Caroline, “See you guys later.”

They both wave and Caroline says, “Cate, I hope to see you again soon.

“Me too. It was really great talking with you, Caroline. Maybe next game then.” I wave bye as we walk to Drew’s car.

“That was so much fun. I loved watching you. I can’t believe how good you can skate. I mean you were everything out there.” I bump his shoulder with my fist.

He tosses his stuff in his trunk and as I’m getting ready to say something else, he grabs me and his mouth slams onto mine. Hands delve into my hair, and he wraps his other arm around me pulling me tight into his frame. God, can anything feel any better? Oh, yeah, when we’re sexing it up.

My hands tuck under the waistband of his jeans. I have a need to get naked with him. He must feel it, too, as he deepens the kiss. I moan in response because I want him with everything I have as my blood flames through my veins. My sex throbs and I realize I am rubbing myself against his thigh. I slip one hand further down the back of his jeans and mold it to his perfect ass. Damn. I love his ass. Now I know why. All that skating has made it this way.

He pulls away and stares, not saying a word. He traces the outline of my face, nose, and lips. It’s nearly unbearable. My throat is thick with desire.

“Drew, I—”

In a husky voice, he answers, “You don’t have to say a word. I know. Let’s go to dinner. I need food and then you. In the worst way.”

“Yes.”

Dinner is at a small local restaurant. They know Drew because he apparently does carryout here a lot. We hurry through the meal because both of us keep making innuendos about being in bed together. That’s all either of us want.

We’re tearing each other’s clothes off as soon as we walk in the door. I’ve never experienced this before but I don’t want the feeling to stop. When we’re both down to our unders, he puts one arm under my knees and sweeps me off my feet—literally.

“How one girl has managed to occupy almost my every waking minute, I have no idea. But you have done a damned fine job of it. I’m glad you’re here and we’re about to get in bed.”

His voice is gruff with lust. He sets me on my feet and slides his boxer briefs down. His erection leaps out, as though it’s been waiting for this moment. I want to feel it so I reach for it.

“You’re so soft, yet hard. Such a contrast.” My hand tightens on him.

“Not too much, Cate.”

“Did I do it wrong?” I glance up feeling like a chastised puppy.

“No. God, no. I just want you too much.” Arms reach behind me and unhook my bra, then slip my lacy thong off. “You’re so unbelievably sexy. This is why I can’t think of anything but you.”

He kisses me again as his hands find their way to my sex. His fingers are gentle, yet purposeful. And he knows how much pressure to apply. I’m moaning as my fingers sink into the muscles of his shoulders. I have to hold on because my legs want to crumple.

He pulls his hand away and says, “Let’s get in bed.” When he pulls back the covers, he asks, “Did you wash the sheets?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it was. They were messy.” It’s an unpleasant moment for me and I cringe.

His hand slides under my chin so he can look me in the eye. “Like I said last night, don’t turn something beautiful into an embarrassment. It was perfect, Cate. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

His lovely words expunge my awkwardness and I lunge at him. Just as I’m about to kiss him, the corner of his mouth turns up and he throws me backward on the bed. Air whooshes out of my lungs as he brushes his lips over mine. Then he begins to work his way down to the apex of my thighs. Muscles tense as air is vacuumed from my chest. For a moment, I forget how to inhale. The anticipation of what’s about to occur, coupled with the fever in my blood makes me manic by the time his lips and tongue graze over that tiny bundle of nerves. I’m torn between wanting him like this and wanting him inside of me. But before I can think about it further, he does that thing with his finger, inserting it in just a bit, and I don’t need to make a decision at all. My back arches as I latch my fingers onto his hair and come all over the place, calling out his name. When he starts to glide up my body, I jerk him toward my mouth so I can kiss him. I want to absorb this man into my soul, crawl inside of him and stay there forever.

“Cate, are you sure you’re not sore?”

“Just a tiny bit tender, but I’m good. I want you, Drew.”

“Why don’t you get on top? Then you control everything.”

“O-Okay.” I’m a bit nervous about this. I’ve never done this and I’ll feel so exposed.

He rolls on his back and reaches for a condom. I watch him put it on and it makes me want to put my mouth on him. When he’s ready, I bracket his thighs with mine and he holds out his hands.

“For a little leverage.”

He places them on his hips. “Find your rhythm and I’ll match it.”

I nod, take a hold of him, and insert the tip. Then I inch down on him. It aches a tiny bit, but it’s okay. I keep going, and slide back and forth until he’s seated all the way. I stop a second, allowing myself to adjust to him. I make the mistake of catching a glimpse of his face. His lips are barely parted but it’s the deep cerulean of his irises that grab me. “Oh, god. You’re sexy.” A different ache replaces the one I had before.