Two months later
I drive up the road that leads to my house. I’m exhausted and miserable. I haven’t talked to Stella for two days. She was busy with meet-and-greets and interviews with radio stations, and I didn’t want to risk waking her when I knew she had another show. She’d called during morning skate, and then again later while I was dodging questions in locker-room interviews after playing like shit because I couldn’t keep my head together. Eli got run right over by that Subban asshole, and I beat the shit out of him on the ice because nobody fucks with my right wing. I got thrown in the box, too, and our empty net penalty meant the Preds hit it right in the center of the net. We lost the game. I took a puck to the obliques and another to the thigh, along with several hard hits, so not only am I cranky and tired, but I’m covered in bruises and in a world of pain. I need a soak in the hot tub, a finger or two of Jameson, and I need to see my girl, or at the very least see her through a computer screen while I jack it. She won’t sex-Skype with me anymore. Which means my dick is in a permanent state of sad.
As I round the last bend toward my drive, I slam on the brakes. An SUV is parked on the side of the road, right where Stella’s car had crashed into a snow drift. Jesus Christ, what is it with people crashing into my mountain?
I won’t let myself think that it’s her, because I’m pretty sure I would have seen the paps following her from the airport splashed all over the tabloids if it was. I pull my phone from my pocket and let the beast idle as I dial Stella’s number.
“Hey, baby.”
“Stella, where are you right now?”
“On the bus. Why?”
My heart sinks. I don’t know who the hell the car belongs to, but I do not want to find some psycho stalker bunny has broken into my house and is pretending to be my hot-as-fuck girlfriend. For one, no one could compare to Stella. No one even gets a goddamn look in. Still, I don’t want her to freak, so I know I need to play it cool. “No reason. How was your show?”
“Good. Tiring. I saw the score. I’m sorry, baby. I wish I was there to make it better.”
“Me too.”
“Listen, I gotta go. Lana wants to go over some interview questions.”
I don’t want her to hang up, but I certainly don’t want her to freak out should some crazy bitch be in my house. “Okay, call me later?”
“Sure.”
“I miss you so goddamn much.”
“I miss you too,” she says quietly. “But we’ll see each other soon.”
“Yeah. Bye, country.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and slowly continue up my driveway and through the gate in case some super-charged hockey fan comes tearing out at the vehicle. When I pull up in front of my house, it’s still.
I’m probably over-reacting. Whoever left their car there likely just ran out of gas and went in search of help. It’s not as if I’m going to come home and find Goldilocks asleep in my bed.
I climb the porch stairs and open my front door with the keys, and then I step inside and head for the other end of my house, attracted by the noise. Once there, I discover that while Goldilocks may not be occupying my bed, she’s definitely in my hot tub, drinking my Jameson.
“Hi, honey. I’m home,” Stella says.
Oh, fuck me, yes. I cross the room in three impatient strides and climb into the hot tub, clothes, shoes, watch, and all. She squeals. Water splashes out over the floor, and I don’t give a shit.
I take her face in my hands. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprise.” She smiles, and I don’t even care about an explanation. I just kiss her so hard she has to pull away, gasping for breath. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I groan and press my lips to hers. “You’re naked in my hot tub.”
She laughs. “And you’re still fully clothed.”
“How did you get in?”
“I called your mother two days ago, asked her for the spare key.”
“Jesus. My brother’s not here, is he?”
“No, he offered to give us a week alone.”
“A week? What about your tour?” I scrub my hand through my beard in agitation when I realize I could never be that lucky. “Ah shit, I have an away game in two days.”
“That’s okay, we have right now,” she says stroking my hair back from my face. “I played my last show two nights ago, so I can actually come watch you play.”
“Fuck! That was your last show? Damn it. I’m so sorry, baby. My head has been—”
“In the game, exactly where it needs to be.”
I grab her around the waist and glide through the water to sit on the seat. Stella straddles my hips, and I dip my head and kiss a warm, wet trail from her neck to her breasts. I take her nipple in my mouth and suck hard. She throws her head back and closes her eyes, and she’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. Aquamarine eyes lock with mine, and Stella pouts. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”
“You wanna help me out with that?”
“Sure.” She slides her warm hands up under my shirt. I flinch when she touches the bruise on my side.
“Oh my god, you’re hurt.”
“That’ll teach me for getting in the way when the other team is trying to score.”
“Oh, honey.” She covers her mouth with her hand.
“It’s okay. I know a sexy nurse who just moved into my building.”
“Oh, really?
“Really. She’s a hot blonde with a gorgeous throat.”
Stella laughs. “Oh my god, you sicko.”
“Did I say throat? I meant singing voice.”
“Sure, you did.”
She pushes the wet fabric up my torso, and I help her to pull it over my head. She throws it on the tiled floor and dips her head to look at my bruise. “Poor baby.”
“Yep, I think I’m definitely gonna need my dick sucked to feel better.”
“Okay, but first,” she says, and her hands unfasten my belt and jeans. She climbs off me to help pull my jeans down, but with the water soaking them they’re like a lead weight. I take over for her and shed my pants and shoes as quickly as I can. I toss them over the edge of the hot tub where they land with a wet thwack. She climbs into my lap again and she rubs herself against my cock. It’s been so long since I’ve felt her body on mine, I could come from that alone, but I groan and lay my head back against the hot tub because it feels so fucking good.
“Christ. You need to stop or I’m gonna wind up coming all over your pretty pussy.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do. I wanna be inside you when I come, country.” She straddles me and positions the head of my cock at her entrance, and then slowly lowers herself down until I’m seated balls deep inside her. “Oh fuck,” I groan.
Her breathy moan forces me into action. I’m tired as fuck, but I have no intention of coming first. I slide my thumb between us and stroke her clit, slowly at first, and then faster as her pace increases. Her legs begin to shake within just seconds of me touching her.
“Did you miss me, baby?” I snag her earlobe in my teeth.
“Oh, god,” she murmurs. “So much more than you know.”
I stroke her clit faster, thrust deeper, and then her moans turn to breathy pants and she throws her head back as she comes around my cock. I grunt and follow her over the edge, spilling my come inside her.
After we catch our breath, I squeeze her tightly. “Hold on.”
She wraps her body around me, but she has all the strength of a limp noodle. I stand, clutching her ass, and climb out of the tub. We’re dripping water everywhere, but I don’t care. I cross the tiles, almost tripping on my discarded shoes, and I lay her out by the fire. I lie on top of her, kissing her face, her breasts, and her stomach, and ease my way down her body until I’m face-level with her pussy. I force her to open her legs, and I eat her like a starving NHL hockey player after a hard game. She’s here with me. I get her for a whole week, and she’s perfect.
“Don’t go,” I say, when I come up for air.
She gives a sexy little laugh. “Well, I wasn’t planning on leaving right this second.”
“I don’t mean right now, I mean ever. Stay with me. Move in with me?”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I’m blown away by this, and I lean up on my elbow to look at her. She better not be teasing me. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay you’ll stay?”
“Yeah. I mean, Nashville has always been my home, but there’s nothing there for me if the man I love is miles away. I’ll keep my house, and obviously, I’ll be there to record and for the music awards—which I expect you to attend—but after the tour ended, I just wanted to go home, only Nashville didn’t feel like home anymore. Lodge Ross did.”
I search her gaze. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”
“No, Van, I’m not messing with you,” she says, and she takes my face in her hands. “I want us to be together. We can’t live like this. Touring is one thing, and I get that you’ll be gone with away games, but I can handle that if you can. I can give up Nashville because you’re here, this house is here, and it’s the closest to home I’ve ever felt.”
I kiss her deeply and squeeze her so tight I worry she might break, because I know exactly what she means.