couldn’t say the words.
“Please don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.
He lowered his stick and held her with his body instead. He tossed his gloves onto the ice. Her heartbeat ticked faster. “I’m a very sore loser. And you’re not exactly putting up a convincing fight.”
She flung off her gloves as if to start roundhousing him but instead set her hands on his waist. Proving his point.
“You loved me once. Make me believe you’re happy now.”
She could not.
“What are the chances we’d end up in the same city?” His kiss behind her ear, a thunderbolt. “I remember every detail too. You took your shoes off as soon as we got there because you hated wearing heels.”
An unexpected smile crept over her face. “Still do.”
“You tasted like strawberry lip gloss and spearmint gum. You smelled like apples. Even now, the smell of apples makes me think of you.” He grazed his lips against her neck, and she shivered. “Call me in the morning if you want to run with me. Good night, Stefania.” Aleksandr gathered his gloves and stick. She already missed the warmth, the feel of his body. He stick-saluted her as he skated to the other side of the ice, then opened the gate and disappeared into the men’s locker room.
***
Joe glanced up from his MacBook and did a double take. “Are you playing hockey again? I’d like you to have teeth for our wedding.”
“I’ve had a very strange night.” Stephanie tossed the bag and stick into the hall closet. “Emphasis on ‘very.’”
“Should I ask?”
“Let’s leave it at that.”
“You’re being weird again.”
“Long day. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” Stephanie flipped on the bedroom light, entered the en suite, and locked the door. She needed Joe to leave her alone for a little while. She dropped her clothes into a pile on the floor and started the water. Not hot enough to scald away her skin’s desire for Aleksandr’s touch and the shame that accompanied it. Her fiancé was two rooms away, and she was fantasizing about another man.
She was only with Joe because she thought she’d never see Alex again.
The stark realization hit her like a head-on collision. Eight years. He still wanted her. Her , when he could have anyone.
She smiled. Oh, the things Alex would do to her if she let him. Stephanie leaned against the wall, facing the spray, and slipped a finger between her legs. Water splashed against her belly.
She had never fantasized about Joe.
She rubbed faster, the warm, luscious pressure building to a crescendo. She hunched forward as the orgasm blasted through her, and she tried to stifle the succession of moans the shower surely wasn’t loud enough to muffle.
Guilt regained its foothold. Four months. The venue and officiant already reserved. A dress already purchased. Flowers and cake ordered. Photographer and videographer booked. She was going to marry Joe because not marrying him would disappoint too many people.
Except the one who mattered most. The one she had never stopped loving.
Stephanie shut off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and sat on the toilet lid. Her heart was trying to punch out of her chest, and nausea churned her stomach. Slow, deep breaths. She hung her head between her knees. “Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered.
She put on a nightshirt and climbed into bed. Joe came in a couple hours later. She pretended to be asleep, but when his persistent prodding made it clear he knew she was faking, she rolled onto her back and let him do his thing. Joe was an oblivious lover who tended to forget, especially once he’d gotten off, she couldn’t orgasm by penetration alone. Satisfied, he fell into a deep, snoring sleep.
She stared into the darkness of the ceiling, wondered what Aleksandr was doing and decided she was better off not knowing. She had no right to be jealous, engaged to one man and leading on another. No right at all.
She wished she hadn’t asked for
“Please don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.
He lowered his stick and held her with his body instead. He tossed his gloves onto the ice. Her heartbeat ticked faster. “I’m a very sore loser. And you’re not exactly putting up a convincing fight.”
She flung off her gloves as if to start roundhousing him but instead set her hands on his waist. Proving his point.
“You loved me once. Make me believe you’re happy now.”
She could not.
“What are the chances we’d end up in the same city?” His kiss behind her ear, a thunderbolt. “I remember every detail too. You took your shoes off as soon as we got there because you hated wearing heels.”
An unexpected smile crept over her face. “Still do.”
“You tasted like strawberry lip gloss and spearmint gum. You smelled like apples. Even now, the smell of apples makes me think of you.” He grazed his lips against her neck, and she shivered. “Call me in the morning if you want to run with me. Good night, Stefania.” Aleksandr gathered his gloves and stick. She already missed the warmth, the feel of his body. He stick-saluted her as he skated to the other side of the ice, then opened the gate and disappeared into the men’s locker room.
***
Joe glanced up from his MacBook and did a double take. “Are you playing hockey again? I’d like you to have teeth for our wedding.”
“I’ve had a very strange night.” Stephanie tossed the bag and stick into the hall closet. “Emphasis on ‘very.’”
“Should I ask?”
“Let’s leave it at that.”
“You’re being weird again.”
“Long day. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” Stephanie flipped on the bedroom light, entered the en suite, and locked the door. She needed Joe to leave her alone for a little while. She dropped her clothes into a pile on the floor and started the water. Not hot enough to scald away her skin’s desire for Aleksandr’s touch and the shame that accompanied it. Her fiancé was two rooms away, and she was fantasizing about another man.
She was only with Joe because she thought she’d never see Alex again.
The stark realization hit her like a head-on collision. Eight years. He still wanted her. Her , when he could have anyone.
She smiled. Oh, the things Alex would do to her if she let him. Stephanie leaned against the wall, facing the spray, and slipped a finger between her legs. Water splashed against her belly.
She had never fantasized about Joe.
She rubbed faster, the warm, luscious pressure building to a crescendo. She hunched forward as the orgasm blasted through her, and she tried to stifle the succession of moans the shower surely wasn’t loud enough to muffle.
Guilt regained its foothold. Four months. The venue and officiant already reserved. A dress already purchased. Flowers and cake ordered. Photographer and videographer booked. She was going to marry Joe because not marrying him would disappoint too many people.
Except the one who mattered most. The one she had never stopped loving.
Stephanie shut off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and sat on the toilet lid. Her heart was trying to punch out of her chest, and nausea churned her stomach. Slow, deep breaths. She hung her head between her knees. “Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered.
She put on a nightshirt and climbed into bed. Joe came in a couple hours later. She pretended to be asleep, but when his persistent prodding made it clear he knew she was faking, she rolled onto her back and let him do his thing. Joe was an oblivious lover who tended to forget, especially once he’d gotten off, she couldn’t orgasm by penetration alone. Satisfied, he fell into a deep, snoring sleep.
She stared into the darkness of the ceiling, wondered what Aleksandr was doing and decided she was better off not knowing. She had no right to be jealous, engaged to one man and leading on another. No right at all.
She wished she hadn’t asked for
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