Before I open my eyes, I have a smile on my face.
Yesterday had been the best day.
And I’m not just smiling about KAW securing the National Hockey League’s newest franchise.
No.
The smile on my face has as much to do with the man currently curled around me as reaching a goal we’ve been working years to attain.
I’m not normally a smug person but I feel pretty damn smug about the Rogues right now. Especially when we were told more than once KAW and the Baton Rouge Rogues wouldn’t get the green light.
Walker’s fingers flex against my stomach before pressing hard for a fraction of a second then trailing over my skin in tiny circles.
“Morning.” His voice rumbles along my neck and against my spine where his chest presses into me. “Regrets?”
A bark of laughter leaves my throat before I can answer him. “Hell no. You?”
“Not on your life.”
The hand on my stomach moves upward. His fingers spreading wide, palm flat, he continues until he curls his fingers around my jaw. With a gentle tug, he tilts my head until I can feel his breath on my lips.
Opening my eyes, my gaze meets Walker’s sleepy one. His eyes are more gray than blue this morning and I wonder if they change with his moods or the light.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Your eyes.”
“My eyes?” He smiles. “What about them?”
“They’re more gray today. Last night they were more blue. Yesterday at the studio they were a mix.”
“Yeah, they change depending on the light.”
“Not with your mood?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. It’s not something I’ve thought about. Except when someone points it out.”
“Hmm…” Maybe we can do an experiment. Arching my back, I press my ass into his groin, wiggle a little to get his attention…
And there. The blue is bleeding in. It’s fascinating to watch.
“What are you doing?” he growls with a thrust of his hips.
I grin. “They change with your mood too.”
He stills. Pops up on his elbow and leans over me. “You did that on purpose to find that out?”
I’m trying not to laugh at his fake affronted look. But then he pokes me in the side and I’m helpless to stop the laughter from breaking free.
“Oh, it’s funny to play with me, is it?” He’s up on his hands and knees and flipping me to my back in a second. “Let’s see how you like it when I play with you.”
I’m laughing harder and enjoying every second of this man’s play. This is a side of him I haven’t seen yet and I like it.
When I finally manage to get some words out, it’s, “You can play with me whenever you want.”
It’s his turn to laugh when I attempt an eyebrow waggle that I’m sure looks like a demented clown’s. Using his distraction, I use the same move I did last night and switch our positions.
“You didn’t let me finish what I was doing last night,” I say, staring down at him.
His hands find my waist. “You want to be on top?”
“Yes.” It’s my usual MO. And even though I’ve let Walker take the lead so far, and enjoyed it, I can’t stifle the habits of a lifetime.
“Oakley!” he snaps out my name, bringing me back to the moment. He’s eyeing me carefully. “You do that a lot.”
“Do what?” But I don’t need him to explain. I know I spend a lot of time analyzing and overthinking things.
“Don’t do that.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. But don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. At the risk of destroying the mood, I’m going to remind you I’ve had my fill of women who lie.”
I close my eyes. God. I’m such an idiot. “Okay. No more deflecting.”
“Attempted.”
“Sorry?”
“Attempted deflecting. I see you, Oakley James. And I’m not running.”
“I—” My mouth slams shut.
Am I deflecting?
In a way, yes, but with Walker it’s more…a way to slow things down. I know he speaks the truth. He does see me. More clearly than anyone ever has.
He strokes a finger down my nose and draws me out of my head again. “You think deep. I like that. It means the things you do are genuine.”
“I’m careful.”
“I get that. It’s why you’re that way that has my curiosity screaming to dig and find out all your secrets, but I won’t. Want to know why?”
I nod.
“Because we’re going to discover everything about each other soon enough. I’ll know you inside out before we’re done. The reverse will also be true.”
I’m still nodding because I believe him—agree with him.
“You and me are going to have an amazing life.”
My throat constricts. I see the promise of his words in his eyes. Eyes that have gone completely gray, like a storm rolling in from the Gulf.
“Hey.” Both his hands cradle my face. “We’re in this together. One day at a time.”
“I’m sorry.” I sniffle. The threat of tears takes me by surprise. “I just…”
“I’m with you. It’s been an emotional twenty-four hours.” He grins up at me and I lean forward to press my mouth to his.
With our lips touching I say, “How has it been only twenty-four hours?”
“Yeah, feels like a lifetime to me too.” His grin widens before he changes the angle of my head with his hands and slants his mouth over mine.
The kiss is a sweet exploration, a slow meld of lips, stroke of tongues, mingle of breaths.
A phone rings in the other room and I pull back. “What time is it?”
He glances at the closed curtains. “I have no idea.”
Neither of us wears a watch and we left our phones in the main room of the suite after we chowed down on a midnight snack. “Those things really block shit out.”
“At a guess I’d say it’s at least seven.”
“Oh?”
“I’m usually up at six every day. Even when I can sleep in, I’m always up by seven.” He shrugs. “It feels like seven.”
“Shit!” I spring up off the bed and race for the door.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“I’m supposed to be on a call!” I yell as I throw open the bedroom door and rush across the outer room to my phone.
Snatching it up, I see I’ve got three missed calls, a few messages, and it’s actually eight! “Double shit!”
“What? What’s wrong?”
My gaze swings to the bedroom doorway where I find a very naked Walker leaning against the frame. “Ah…”
God, he’s beautiful. All of him. Every last inch—
“Hey! Eyes up, Oak, what’s wrong?”
“Huh?” My gaze meets his. “Oh. Right. I’ve missed the call. It’s eight, not seven, and I’m starving.” That last I add for two reasons.
One, I want to lick him up one side and down the other.
And two, my stomach is rumbling.
Our midnight snack wasn’t a substitute for the dinner we both missed last night.
If we’re going to do this—work together and be together—we need to stop getting distracted. Or at least not let the distractions stop us from meeting our obligations.
“My missed meeting is okay; it was only with Nat and Blake. I can call them later.” I mentally run through what’s on my list for today and realize the only other thing is trying to convince Walker Alcott to take the job of head coach.
It seems I’m ahead even if I’m behind.
Grinning, I head in his direction. “So, I’ll reschedule my call—it was just a check-in after yesterday, and then I’ll order us some breakfast. Unless you have somewhere you need to be?”
“I do. But it can wait.” He pulls me into his arms. “I’d love to have breakfast with you. Spend a little more time just you and me without the world intruding.”
I sigh. “That’s sounds so good.” My stomach rumbles again. “As you can hear, I’m starving.”
“It’s all that energy you expended last night. You need to refuel.”
“We both do.”
“Yes.” His gaze is on mine, and I can tell he wants to say something else but before he does, he lets me go and taps me on the ass. “Go reschedule that call and order us some food, woman.”
“Hey! You can order the food while I reschedule.”
One side of his mouth kicks up in a cheeky smirk. “So I can. All right. Divide and conquer. I like it.”
“What about that do you like?” I have to know if he’s thinking the same thing I am.
“Us. Dividing and conquering together.” His grin is wide, the sparkle in his eyes bright. “A team. We’re a team.”
The fact our thoughts are in line isn’t a surprise. But the thrill I get when he calls us a team is. “I like that too.”
“Go. Reschedule that call. I’ll order breakfast, then if you don’t mind, I’ll plug my phone into your charger. It died last night.”
“It’s over there.” I indicate the desk in the far corner. “I’ll grab us both a robe after I message Nat and Blake.”
He frowns. His gaze rolling down from my face to my feet and I can’t stop the shiver that follows. “Do you have to cover up? I like this view.”
It isn’t until he says that that I remember the windows in this room. Spinning around, I breathe a sigh of relief to see the curtains are closed.
“Do you think I would have let you stand here naked this long if there was the remote possibility someone other than me could see you?”
My gaze moves back to Walker. The look on his face is pure possession. That dark expression, the proprietary glint of it in his eyes has a full body shudder working its way through me.
“The first thing I did when I reached that doorway was check the windows.”
“Oh. I didn’t even think.”
“Yeah, I got that, and I couldn’t think of anything else.”
“Me naked or the possibility of the curtains being open?”
“Both. I know most hotels have one-way glass but I wasn’t taking any chances with you.”
A warmth I’ve only ever associated with my grandfather fills me.
Walker is taking care of me.
Sure, he took care of me in bed—and out—but that’s not what this is.
This is outside of sex.
I know my friends take care of me, but the warmth I get from them isn’t the same and to receive it from Walker hours after meeting him has me realizing this thing between us is far more important than anything else.
I’d pull the offer of head coach off the table if it was a choice between it or our connection.
“You’re doing it again.”
His words have me focusing externally—on him. “Yes. Thank you.”
“For what? Worrying about you being naked in front of New York City?”
I laugh. “It’s hardly the whole city but yes. For worrying about me.”
He cocks his head and studies me for long seconds before he straightens and moves back to me. Cradling my face, something he seems to do a lot, he gazes into my eyes and says something no one has ever said to me before.
“I will always worry about you even when you don’t need me to.”
Blinking several times to alleviate the sting of tears, I can only nod.
He must see I’m struggling because he drops a kiss on my lips then changes the subject. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”
“Um.” I try to shift my thoughts toward food but it’s hard. I’m not used to being this vulnerable—this open—with someone.
Not even my three best friends get this level of vulnerability.
And I’m giving it to Walker within hours of meeting him.
“Oak?”
“No. I don’t have any allergies or dislikes.”
“Okay. Go reschedule, grab us some robes, and I’ll get breakfast sorted.”
He’s giving me a reprieve, I know he is. And as much as it pains me to admit, because I’m an independent, confident woman, I’m taking the break.
I know I’ll have to think about us—what we’re doing—soon enough. But for now, I want to enjoy breakfast with a man who intrigues me, gets me, in a way no other has.
Except before I do that, I need to call Nat and Blake. Or message.
If I message, I won’t get stuck, and they won’t see my face because I’m sure it’s written all over my skin that I had the best sex of my life last night.
Pulling up our group chat, the one Cami insists she doesn’t need to be a part of, I tap out a quick update.
After sending the message I switch my phone to silent mode. Then thinking better of it, I send a second text.
It’s a small lie. My battery is at sixty percent. More than enough for now but I don’t want my time with Walker to end just yet and I know it will as soon as I speak to the girls.
Besides, I gave them the bare bones of the contract signing and my talk with Walker yesterday afternoon.
In that update I did mention I would be having dinner with him to discuss our offer further so they may get an inkling of why I missed this morning’s call.
If not, I won’t hide this thing between me and Walker from them. They need to know as much as for the sake of the franchise as for our lifelong friendship.
Well, Nat joined our group during college but for the last decade it’s been the four of us against the world.
Or should I say, taking on the world.
Because that’s what we’ve done.
And now we’re taking on the male dominated world of professional sport.
I have no doubt we can do it. We’re capable of anything.
We took a tiny start up, designing and sewing in the back corner of our apartment living room to the multi-billion-dollar, multi-manufacturing facilities company it is today when everyone said we’d never succeed.
And we did it on our own. We may have used some of our trust funds—and between us there are many—but Rogue paid that back within the first two years.
It helped that one of us was able to wear the brand at international sporting events all over the world. Nothing beats free advertising on an Olympic level.
Blake wore nothing but Rogue brand clothing; even when the teams she was on had other sponsors, it was in her contracts that Rogue was her sponsor and she wasn’t to wear anything else.
Hell, we’d even matched colors, and styles to a degree, to whatever the teams were expected to wear.
It had cost us, but we felt the price was worth it when our name was plastered on TVs around the world.
“Hey, you done?”
I turn to see Walker leaning against the door frame again.
It’s a position that does it for me for some reason. So much so, I power off my phone and drop it on the floor.
That gets me an eyebrow lift but not a comment.
Then because he has to know what I’m thinking, and if not, I’m going to give him a big hint, I sway my hips as I walk over to the bed.
“How long will breakfast be?” I ask while bending over and pressing on the bed as if testing its firmness.
“About thirty.”
I face him once more. “Oh, I wonder how much more of an appetite we can work up in that time.”
“Couldn’t find the robes?” he asks as he slowly prowls toward me.
And it is a prowl. His limbs taut, each step measured as he draws closer, his eyes locked on his prize.
“I see something else I’d rather be wrapped in.”
The smile he gives is nothing short of devious. “It’s me who’ll be wrapped in you.”
He moves quick. Crowds me, urges me to turn back to the bed and pushes me over, and before I can catch my breath his fingers are between my legs, probing deep.
“So fucking wet.”
Then his fingers are gone and in their place is the hard length of him driving into me in one long smooth stroke.