Chapter 21
I slowly open my eyes, adjusting to the sunlight streaming into JP’s bedroom. Warmth courses through my whole body as I remember where I am.
I’m in JP’s bed.
He has me drawn into his chest, and I can feel his breath against the side of my neck. I glance down and see his strong arm is locked protectively around me. His skin is hot against my back, and the scent of his spicy cologne lingers on the sheets. I could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms, making love all day in this bed and never leaving.
I close my eyes, wanting to relive every moment of last night again. I remember in vivid detail how earth-shattering the sex was on the piano bench. It was hot. Spontaneous. Orgasmic. Absolutely scorching. Sex will never be the same after that experience. Never. The exhilaration, the passion, the desire we had for each other—it completely changed the way I view sex.
It was profound because I know it was more than sex.
It was making love.
JP’s gaze never left mine during the whole experience. We stayed connected in such an intimate way, gazing into each other’s eyes as we became one. I saw the joy on his face, knowing the passion I stirred in him, while we went over the edge together—
Some lump forms in my throat. I bite my lip to hold back tears.
It was beautiful.
I’ll never be the same because of it.
We made love again that night, with JP carrying me to his bedroom and laying me down on his bed and going slower. He explored all of me, softly, gently, his fingers caressing me, his tongue dancing across my body until I cried out for him to give me release.
JP made love to me in a way that brought me to my knees.
He made me vulnerable.
Because I will never want another man to touch me after making love with JP.
I run my hand over his powerful arm, tracing the veins running up to his bicep and feeling his familiar skin with my fingertips.
I want this.
I want him.
Always.
JP stirs next to me, and I know he’s waking up. I blink the tears away and turn toward him, and his eyes are open.
In the morning light, his eyes are browner, but I still see the flecks of amber and green.
Those beautiful eyes are shining brightly at me.
“Bonjour, ma belle sirène,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on my lips.
“Hello,” I smile back at him as we lie face-to-face.
“Do you know what I said?”
“I know it’s French.”
JP grins at me. “I said, ‘Good morning, my beautiful mermaid.’”
My heart melts with joy. “I like that.”
“That was my intention,” JP says, pressing his lips against mine again, but this time for a lingering kiss.
I slide my hand up to his face, and I feel facial stubble against my palm.
“Sorry,” JP murmurs against my lips. “I need to shave.”
“I like you clean shaven, but I have to admit this scruff thing you have going on is working for me, too,” I say as I move my hand over his prickly cheek.
JP grabs me and rolls me over to his chest so I’m on top of him.
“Well that’s good to know,” he says, playing with my hair.
I lower my head and kiss him deeply.
Hmm. I must be suddenly addicted to sex because I need more of this man.
And from the way JP is responding, he feels the same way.
“It’s Sunday morning,” I say, lifting my head. “We haven’t had sex on a Sunday morning yet.”
“No, we haven’t.”
“We should, you know,” I say, sliding my hand underneath the sheets, down his ripped abdominals. “Sex would be a positive way to start our day.”
JP stops my hand from moving further, and I freeze in surprise.
“Only if you call it what it is.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
In a swift move, JP rolls us over so he’s on top of me, gazing down at me with hunger in his eyes.
“We haven’t made love yet on a Sunday morning,” he says, his voice low.
Then his mouth claims mine. He guides my hand back to where it was on his abdominals and gently lets it go, and the move chokes me up.
It’s not just sex to him either.
What this is, I don’t know anymore, but my heart is fully involved now.
“Let me make love to you,” he whispers against my neck, breaking my thoughts.
Before I know what I’m doing, I say the words I’ve never said to another man.
“Then make love to me,” I whisper back to him. “Make love to me, Jean-Pierre.”
And as JP kisses me sweetly, no words have ever felt more right to say.
~ ~ ~
This day has been bliss.
I snuggle more into JP’s chest. We’ve barely left his bed all day, except to run out and get something to eat and for me to grab a change of clothes so I can sleep over tonight, too.
As soon as we were done, we came straight back to bed. We’ve binge watched all of JP’s favorite old movies starring Humphrey Bogart this afternoon. Right now, we’re on The Big Sleep.
Through JP’s eyes, I’ve found a whole new appreciation for older movies. He notices details on a set, like the costumes. It’s so cute because he’ll get excited and hit pause and point out what he thinks is a great line of dialogue.
“Okay,” JP says, and as if he’s read my thoughts, he hits pause on the remote. “This is why Bogart is one of my style icons. See what he’s wearing? The striped suit with the pocket square? Simple. But he pays attention to the details. It’s stylish.”
“You’re adorable. I love that you have a style icon. You do realize online you are considered a style icon in hockey, right?”
“What the Swiss Miss thinks doesn’t count.”
I giggle. “Oh, it does, but you being named to multiple ‘best-dressed hockey players’ lists means many people admire your style.”
“Maybe she started a campaign on Tumble,” JP quips, borrowing CiCi’s term.
“No. You are JP Rochat, Swiss Man of Style,” I say.
“Stop.”
“You could have more modeling gigs than me if you weren’t busy with this hockey thing,” I tease.
JP brushes a lock of my hair behind one ear. “Speaking of modeling, don’t you go down to Austin tomorrow?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m modeling yoga clothing. We’re shooting all day, so I’ll have to get up early and drive down there, do the shoot, and drive back. A very long day.”
“Why Austin?” JP asks.
“There are a lot of shoots down there,” I explain. “I was up for a bank commercial that was going to shoot down there, but they cast someone else instead.”
“Idiots,” JP says.
I laugh. “No, it’s all right. I get enough work. I could have more, but I don’t want to travel farther than Austin.”
“How come?”
“I did every summer while I was at SMU,” I explain. “I modeled swim wear, and I’d go to the Caribbean, Los Angeles, Mexico, or Hawaii. Great locations. At first, it was different, seeing all these tropical places, but then I found myself wanting to be at home. I know it sounds stupid, but I got tired of hotels. I wanted my bed. I wanted to cook my own food and hang out with my family.”
JP nods. “I get that. At the end of the season, I’m ready to go home. When I was with Buffalo, we didn’t make the playoffs, so I went back to Zurich right away. With the Demons, we get an extended season with playoffs. Hopefully, we go as deep this year as we did last year. I can’t believe training camp is next week. Luckily, it’s close by in Fort Worth, and only for a few days, but it’s the beginning.”
Training camp.
His career is about to pick up in earnest now. Camp. Preseason games. Then the regular season starts.
JP will be gone a lot.
And with any other man I’ve dated, this would make me giddy. Yay! Me time! Time I can be alone! I can have my space and not worry about being smothered!
But with JP the feeling is the exact opposite.
I’ll miss him.
JP hits stop on the movie, and I blink as the TV goes off.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?”
“You have a crease right here,” JP says, lightly sweeping his thumb across my forehead. “You’re worried about something.”
I bite my lip. Do I dare say I’ll miss him? We’re casual. Yes, we’ve made love, but we haven’t said we’re exclusive. I mean, this is modern dating, right? With a real modern man?
My stomach instantly gets jittery with nerves, as I know my feelings have gone well beyond what they should. While I know what the rules are, my heart doesn’t want to play by them anymore.
“You can tell me anything, my mermaid,” JP reassures me, cupping my face with his hand. “I want to know what is on your mind.”
“JP,” I say softly, “I’ll miss you when you’re gone. Not just when you’re at training camp, but when you are on the road. I . . . like being with you.”
I exhale after I speak, trying to gauge his response to my anything but casual admission.
He carefully traces his fingers along my jawline, down to my chin and, to my surprise, tilts it up and places a sweet kiss on my mouth.
“I’ll miss you, too,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing me again.
Relief washes over me as his kiss reassures me he’s feeling the same as I am.
JP breaks the kiss, and I reach for him, sliding my hand to the back of his neck and caressing his thick, dark-brown hair in my hand.
“We’ll talk while I’m at camp,” JP says. “Connectivity Video Connect.”
“Yes.”
“As soon as the bus drops us back at the training facility in Dallas Sunday afternoon, I’ll come over to your apartment so you can welcome me home after my long journey.”
“Fort Worth is, like, thirty miles from here,” I say, laughing. “You make it sound like you are going to Canada or something.”
“I still think you should welcome me home.”
“I will,” I promise.
“You’ll have time to clean up, so I shouldn’t kill myself walking into your apartment next time.”
My face burns as I blush in mortification, but I laugh all the same. “You did not kill yourself, JP. Don’t lie.”
JP grabs his phone and begins typing.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Seeing how many people are injured in falls in the United States each year.”
“Enough, smart ass,” I say, grabbing his phone and tossing it aside. Then I pick up a pillow and bop him over the head with it.
JP roars with laughter. Then he reaches behind him, grabs his pillow, and hits me back.
Now the pillow war has started, and we are chasing each other around the bedroom and trying to hit each other. I even run across the top of his bed to avoid him, which makes JP lose it. He’s laughing so hard he’s crying, and so am I. Finally, JP tosses his pillow aside and grabs me, tossing me onto the bed and pinning me to the mattress.
“You’re the adorable one,” he says, kissing me.
Mmm.
“I’ll clean my apartment for you,” I murmur against his mouth.
“You must really like me,” JP jokes as he slides his hand underneath my ‘Mermaid Hair Don’t Care’ T-shirt, his fingers skimming over my ribs and to the edge of my bra.
As I lose myself yet again to him, I know JP’s words are true.
I do really like you.
I only hope I won’t end up getting hurt because of it.