I wake up to a warm, soft body pressed against my side, and cool, nimble fingers exploring my muscles.

“What time is it?” I mumble as I grope Sasha right back, because I’m not dead and she feels amazing.

“Almost seven.” She whispers it, but I can tell she’s wide awake.

“You’re a morning person.”

“I’m also a morning sex person, if that helps. And a nap person, too.”

I roll her onto her back and kiss my way down her body. “Excellent,” I mumble, but it comes out sounding something like sesellent.

“What do you have to do today?” She gasps as I lick her instead of answering. “Tate!”

I lift my head and blink blearily at her. “Yeah?”

“That’s it? You ask me what time it is, accuse me of being a morning person, and then go down on me?”

It wasn’t an accusation so much as an observation, but that sounds about right. “Yeah. Shhh. Busy.”

“Okay.” She sighs and drops her head back, and I return to kissing her pussy, because doing Sasha is my entire agenda today.

Coach gave us the day off since we won last night.

And now I’m winning again. Go me.

I do have an idea for tonight, but it’ll go over better after an orgasm and some breakfast.

She makes a cryptic phone call before we hop in the shower, and when we get out, there’s a somber looking gentleman in a black suit waiting outside my suite. She just opens the door and he’s there. She gives him a beaming smile and he rolls a large suitcase into the room before departing.

“Who was that?” I ask as she shrugs out of the fluffy white robe she’d put on to answer the door.

“The concierge at my father’s building.”

“Here in New York?”

“Yes.” She says it simply, without her usual bite, but I know better than to ask any more questions.

I grab the suitcase and lift it onto the sofa for her. My shoulder screams from the hit against the board it took last night, and while she gets dressed, I dig out the horse liniment I carry for just this reason.

“What’s that?” Sasha shoots me a quick glance. I tell her and she laughs as she holds out her hand. “Can I rub you down?”

“Be my guest.”

She climbs onto the bed behind me and smooths just the right amount of the herb-infused salve over my muscles. “Like this?”

“A little harder.” Her thumbs dig in and I groan. “Yeah. Right there.”

“I like that sound,” she whispers in my ear.

I twist my head around and catch her mouth for a quick kiss. She sighs as I pull away, her eyes a little hazy. “I like that sound,” I murmur as I touch her lips. “Hey, I have an idea. I was going to suggest it later, but the sounds have me turned on again.”

I love the way her face lights up. “What’s your idea?”

“You know about the plans for Rapscallion, right? How it’s part of a chain of private clubs?”

She pauses, then slides around to sit on the bed next to me. She gives me a guarded, cautious look. “Yes.”

“Reid has a club here in New York.” I search her face for any clue as to how she’s feeling about this, but I get nothing. “We could go tonight.”

Sasha should play poker, the way she can hold an absolutely nothing expression for way too long. “Maybe,” she finally says. “Let’s discuss over breakfast.”

She climbs off the bed and finishes getting dressed. Out of her suitcase comes a pair of tall black leather boots, which she pulls over her skin-tight jeans, and then she puts a big, touchable sweater over her long-sleeved t-shirt.

By the time I’m dressed in jeans and a dress shirt, she’s got a touch of make up on and her hair is perfectly twisted up into a big bun on the top of her head.

“We might run into guys from the team as we head downstairs,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “Then introduce me as a friend who knows her way around New York.”

“Oh yeah?” I tug her close and give her a searing kiss. Friends. We need to work that out between us, because nobody’s going to believe we’re just friends—not the way I look at her. “Tell me what you know about New York.”

“I know the best breakfast places are in Tribeca,” she murmurs with a smile. “And if you’re going to take me to a kink club tonight, I’m going to need a new outfit, too.”

Oh, fuck yeah. Fine, we can be so-called friends. Whatever she wants, however she wants it, if she gives me that kind of a kick-in-the-gut filthy feel with a simple promise of a new outfit.

Instead of grabbing a cab at the hotel, she slides her fingers through mine and tugs me towards the subway. Only in New York City would Sasha feel anonymous enough to hold my hand.

We should come here again.

I’m grinning by the time we’re on the train. It’s crowded, so we stand next to a pole.

She catches my stupidly happy expression and sways into me. “What’s that grin about?”

“You. This.” I kiss the top of her head. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to spend the weekend with me.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, but when we get to our stop, she takes my hand again and doesn’t let go until we reach our destination.

We’re seated at a small corner table, adjacent to each other, which makes it easy to talk quietly once we order.

“So you want to go shopping after this?” I brush an errant lock of hair off her cheek as I lean in.

“Depends. What do you think the dress code is for a club like…”

“It’s apparently called Miscreant.”

Her eyes go wide. “That’s fun.”

“Mmm.”

“So is it gothic? Like Eyes Wide Shut?”

“Probably. The clubs I’ve been to in Toronto and Los Angeles have been pretty theatrical. The Ottawa scene is way more laid back.”

“I didn’t even know there was a BDSM community in Ottawa.”

Kink is everywhere.

“What will you wear?” She runs her hand over my arm. “I like you like this. Buttons to undo…”

“I can wear a suit.”

She makes an appreciative sound low in her throat. “Okay. I’ll match that.”

Our food arrives, and we dive in. Sasha tells me about her favourite things to do in New York at Christmas, and I tell her about the last time I was in the city, with the Senators. We went skating at Rockefeller Center and acted like kids. It was fantastic.

“I bet that was something,” she says with a laugh. “How many of you went?”

“Most of the team. People caught on to the fact that we knew a thing or two about skating, and we ended up taking pictures for a while after.”

“Do you like that side of it? Meeting fans?”

“Yeah. Although I wouldn’t be recognized here if I was out by myself, or with just you, and I like that, too. The celebrity is confined to being situationally specific.” She hasn’t fully confided in me, but I know this is a big deal. I hold her gaze. “I like my freedom. I don’t need to be public all the time.”

She nods, but there’s something in her eyes, an edge of concern.

“I know you keep your life private.” I get that. My life doesn’t need to be hers just because we’re fucking. “I won’t do anything to risk that.”

One side of her mouth hitches up in an almost-smile. “As much as you can.”

“Sure. I’m not going to promise something I can’t deliver.”

“I know.” She leans in and kisses me lightly. “I’m a pro at being invisible. It’s fine.”

“So going to a kink club is…”

“Not something I’d do with anyone else,” she says quietly.

I take her hand. “Reid’s club is members only. And it’s not just money that gets someone in. There’s a vetting process for membership, and you need to be nominated by two existing members, no exceptions. It’s private. And there are ways to be even more anonymous, although I don’t think you need a mask. Nobody will be looking at us. There will be plenty of spectacle put on by those that want to be seen.”

As I’d hoped, she has a gorgeous reaction to that. Her lips part and darken, her pupils dilate. Sasha can’t wait to watch other people be kinky, and I can’t wait to watch her.

But first, we’ve got an entire day in New York City together. “I bet if we went to Rockefeller Center today, nobody would know who I am,” I tell her. “I’d just need to make a stop first.”