It’s our one-month anniversary. I know, I know, I sound like a teenager, counting every day I’m with him. It’s really embarrassing, but I’m also just really, really happy.

Evan has a huge social media following on his own, in spite of the fact that he posted very rarely before we started dating. Mostly, his posts were re-posts of things the team did. Everything else was stuff other people tagged him in, usually women in their own suggestive photos.

Now he posts daily pictures—selfies of us together, photos of me from the side or behind. He even got one picture of me asleep on the team bus. I did not find it flattering but the caption he posted was really sweet, so I forgave him. Sleeping Beauty.

About ninety-percent of the feedback has been good. For the most part, fans love that he’s “settling down.” The male fans, in particular, think I’m his good luck charm, since he’s been posting hat tricks in nearly every game this season. The team has only lost one game so far, and we lead in the league. And superstition rules in sports, so there’s a lot of commentary with things like Don’t let this one go! because they think his play is so strong because of me. That cracks me up, but whatever.

We’ve just won a hard-fought game at home, and Fiona has a press event packed afterward. Evan and Chalamet cover all press now, ever since the weirdness with Mikhail. They’re the team captains, so it makes sense.

The turnout is crazy, with lots of questions about our team’s chances of keeping up this momentum throughout the season, all-star voting, and odds on our making it to the playoffs.

“We’ve got great energy out there,” Chalamet is saying. Our passing is crazy good this season. It’s almost like we’re reading each other’s minds.”

Evan laughs and chimes in. “I can read your mind right now, Chalamet. You want a Miller Light, a bucket of fried chicken, and a soft bed.”

“Us old married guys are way too boring,” Chalamet says, grinning.

“When will you pop the question, Evan?” a young reporter yells from the back of the room. She’s petite and blonde and barely visible from where I stand at the side of the room.

“To Chalamet?” he asks in response. “I mean, I love the guy, but I don’t think his wife would share him with me.”

The room erupts in laughter. The question goes unanswered, which is great because we’ve been dating a month, not a year, and the idea of marriage seems really premature. I catch Evan’s eye and he grins and winks. Lots of flashbulbs go off, catching the moment. I blush, on cue, and pretend to fiddle with something on my phone.

Fiona claps her hands and yells, “Two more questions. Make ‘em about sports, please.”

I really love her for this, even though I know she only did it because she’s still annoyed that Evan and I are allowed to flout the team’s very specific no-fraternization rules. But even as the last questions turn to an injury suffered by one of our defensemen in this game, I look over and find Kacey King glaring at me. If daggers could fly out of her eyes, I’d totally be dead, because she is not happy with the talk of marriage, even as far-fetched as it is.

I don’t flinch away from her stare, though. I just give her a professionally polite smile, which forces her to look away and start packing up her gear.

Holly: 1, Kacey: 0.

Not that it’s a competition but it sure feels satisfying to me right now.

As the press conference ends, Evan walks over and gives me a big kiss on the cheek. “I’ll just go grab my bag and meet you outside?”

“Yep. Give me ten minutes to run up and post a few post-game things?”

“Sounds good.”

He and Chalamet lope down the hall, ribbing each other about the marriage proposal question.

Pam calls as I’m heading up to my cubicle.

“What’s up, Pammy?”

“Good game tonight, and the post-press cracked me up.”

“The bit about Evan proposing to Chalamet?”

“That very thing,” she says.

“It was funny, I agree. Funny but definitely awkward for the two of us. He handled it well, but unfortunately it won’t stop more of the same from inquiring minds.”

“He’s got a career as a sportscaster or play-by-play person once he retires from the game,” Pam says. “He’s really a natural in front of the camera.”

“He’s a natural on the ice, too. He’ll probably play until he can’t skate anymore.”

“He’ll be out there with a walker,” Pam jokes.

“He might be.”

“Is he a natural elsewhere as well?” She doesn’t even try to disguise mischief in her voice.

I snort. “Real slick.”

“This inquiring mind wants to know.”

“Nosy, entitled minds, you mean?” I knew this convo was coming with Pam, I just wasn’t going to be the one to initiate it.

“Same difference, Holls. Come on, throw your bestie a bone here.”

“Well, if you must know, we’ve been taking it slow.”

“Slow as in…”

“Slow as in, we haven’t had sex.”

“What? Why?” She sounds genuinely confused. “If I had a hot stud like that, I’d have jumped his bones on the first date.” Pam makes these kinds of jokes all the time but we both know she’s not serious, and to be kind, I don’t contradict her. She has her own issues to shoulder.

“I wanted to, Pam, I want to now. He is so hot, and the chemistry is totally there, but I just felt like…”

“You wanted to make sure he wasn’t just in it for a quickie.” She finishes my sentence for me.

“I mean, he doesn’t have a good track record. And I’m skittish. So…”

Pam makes a huffy sound of annoyance. “You need to let that shit go. Everyone’s got baggage. Look at me for example.”

“Yes, they do, but I’m not interested in getting hurt again. So sue me.”

“Well, you do like him a lot, right?” she asks gently.

“Of course, he’s a great person. We really have a lot of fun together. It feels like I’ve known him forever.”

“And he’s obviously really into you. His posts about you are super swoony. The Sleeping Beauty one slayed on social.

I can’t hold back a huge grin. “They are swoony, aren’t they?”

“Well, I hope you decide to put out for the guy soon, because I need to live vicariously through you to spice up my own boring situation.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, love you too, you big jerk.”

“I know you do,” she laughs. “Love you, babe.”

We hang up and I do the post-games really quickly before grabbing my backpack and heading down to the employee parking garage where Evan parks his ridiculously audacious sports car.

He smiles as I open the door and slide into the passenger seat. “It was more like twenty-one minutes,” he says leaning over the center console for a kiss.

I happily oblige, enjoying the taste of spearmint gum on his tongue.

As we pull apart, he says, “I guess I forgive you.”

“I’m sorry. Pam called me.”

“Say no more,” he says, turning on the engine. The radio blasts but it’s not his usual classic rock. Instead, the Beatles’ Saw Her Standing There plays. We both sing along as he makes his way out of the labyrinth of a garage.

“I didn’t know you liked the Beatles.” He grins over at me

“Everyone likes the Beatles,” I say. “Blackbird is my favorite.”

“That’s a good one. I think my favorite is A Hard Day’s Night. I like the movie too.”

“Hey, you turned the wrong way for my condo,” I point out.

“We’re not going to your condo, beautiful.”

“Oh, do I finally get to see your apartment?” He has never invited me to his place and I’m starting to get a complex about it.

“No, it’s a surprise.”

I try to act unbothered by the fact that it’s been a month and I still haven’t been to his apartment. As we pull up into the valet lane of a very fancy hotel, my annoyance fades slightly.

“A hotel? I didn’t bring anything…”

“Don’t worry about that. Everything will be perfect.” He plants a quick kiss on my lips before exiting the car. He’s around to my side and helping me out before I can blink. He takes my hand firmly in his and gives me a satisfied grin. My guy is up to something sneaky, and I have a good idea what it might be.

We’re ushered inside, and Evan spends about three minutes at the desk checking in before whisking me off to the elevator and up to the thirtieth floor. When we walk into the room, I’m floored. It’s very much like the sexy dream I had so many months ago. There are floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the twinkling lights of the Strip. The sunken living space is comfortable looking, and a full kitchen stretches out to the left, leading to a window side walkway that heads into a huge bedroom with a massive bed draped in soft, luscious, white bedding.

The bathroom is huge, with a four-person hot-tub in one corner and a grotto shower in the other. There are several shopping bags sitting on a vanity, each with designer labels. Evan gives me an impish smile when I look at him, questions surely in my eyes.

“I took the liberty of calling a personal shopper,” he tells me, taking both of my hands in his. “I have no idea what’s in those bags.”

“Evan, this is…” I don’t even know what to say. Overwhelming? Sweet? Too much? I settle for, “What’s all this about?”

He answers me with a gentle kiss before leading me back out to the living area, where a bottle of wine has been chilling on the coffee table. An assortment of sweet and salty treats are presented beautifully, and two candles are lit with flames dancing. It’s a very romantic scene.

As Evan pours us each a glass of wine, he says, “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed this past month, Holly.”

“It’s been a lot of fun, I agree.”

We sit on a soft couch next to each other. Evan picks up a remote and with the push of a button, music plays. It’s too loud, so he scrambles to turn it down. It’s the Artic Monkeys, though, a band I absolutely love.

“Nice touch. Are you trying to get lucky, Kazmeirowicz?”

Evan grins slyly. “I’m already lucky.”

I nearly choke as I take a sip of wine. “That was so cheesy.”

“Thank you,” he says proudly.

“This is a really nice place.” I look around the room pointedly. “Have you…stayed here before?”

He shakes his head. “No. I came over and picked the room, but I haven’t been here with another woman, if that’s what you’re asking?”

I feel a blush coming on because he saw right through me.

“So, I don’t want this to get heavy,” he says, pausing like he’s trying to figure out how to word what he wants to say next. “I think we need to just get some stuff out in the air, you know. Just talk through it so we can move forward. What do you think?”

I stiffen a little at this. “Talking about the past is not romantic for me.”

“No, it’s not,” he says. “But this is a neutral zone, and we’re both grown-ups, and I think if we just talk about it, maybe we can set it loose. Let it go.”

“Okay…” I say warily.

“I know I have a reputation. I know there are a million pictures of me with other women out there. I know I’m not known for making long-term relationship commitments. Yes, I have a sexual history. Yes, I have been tested many times and I am clean. I can’t make the past any different. But I can assure you that I care about you. That I’m interested in more than sex. That I want more with you.”

“I guess I’ve just been…”

“Gun shy,” he finishes for me. “I know. You’re wary, and I suppose I would be, also. But why don’t you tell me what happened to you. I mean, I know you were engaged. I’m assuming you have a sexual history, right?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m not a virgin.”

“Okay, so it’s established that we’ve both had sex. What about this guy? Who was this idiot who hurt you?”

“Pam and I agreed we were just going to call him Soccer Boy. You know, He Who Shall Not Be Named. But his name was Donovan. He was a UCLA soccer player. Things were hot and heavy. We moved really fast and I fell really hard. We got engaged at the beginning of my senior year.”

“Your senior year?” Was he younger than you?”

“Yes, just a year,” I say. “He’s a senior this year.”

“So, you got engaged and then…”

“And then, a month later, he cheated on me.”

“You caught him?” Evan asks.

As much as I’ve avoided this topic I admit it feels rather freeing to finally have it out in the open. I take a deep breath and tell him the rest. “The men’s and women’s teams were on a tournament trip. Pam found pictures on one of the female player’s social media. They were kissing, half-naked, under the covers. It was obvious enough, and when I confronted him about it after he got home, he said they’d had an on-off sexual thing going for a couple years. He’d been casually sleeping with her since before we even got together.”

Evan cringes. “What the hell was he thinking?”

I shrug. “He said it was purely sexual, nothing emotional. Said he loved me and wanted to be with me.”

“So, you dumped him. Good on you.” Evan smiles a little and gives my shoulder a gentle nudge. “And damn good for me because if you hadn’t I wouldn’t have you here with me right now.”

“Yeah, good on me,” I answer, loving another of his British expressions. “I mean, he tried to get me to stay, but when I asked if he could be monogamous, he couldn’t answer. He looked like he physically had something stuck in his throat.”

“I’m very sorry, Holly.” He takes my hand and I look up through my lashes to find him looking incredibly sexy and intense.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. And I can see why you’d be shy about getting into a relationship with someone like me.”

I open my mouth, then shut it again. “It’s hard not to worry that it will happen again. I think I’d feel that way no matter who I dated.”

“Well,” Evan says, “I won’t promise to be perfect, but I can promise to treat you with respect. To be honest with you.”

“That’s a good start. I’ll make the same promise,” I say, holding out my glass toward his. He gives it a clink, the cheerful sound sort of clearing all the past regrets away.

“What do you think about trying out the hot tub?” Evan asks, lightening the mood.

“I think it sounds just lovely,” I answer.

He refills our glasses and we pad in. The music filters throughout the suite, which is amazing, and Evan turns it up a tad once we realize how loud the jets are.

There’s a teeny-tiny string bikini in one of the bags. It’s simple and gold and fits me perfectly. I’m impressed yet horrified at the price tag. I change quickly in the bedroom and then wander in to find Evan already lounging in the hot water.

The water feels amazing, instantly relaxing my muscles. I let out an involuntary, loud sigh as I sink in. Evan hands me my glass of wine, and I take a sip before setting it back on the ledge, letting my head drop back.

“I needed this,” I say on a moan. “I didn’t realize how tense I was.”

Evan puts his wine down and turns toward me. “Come here. I’ll rub your shoulders.”

I do as asked, accepting the offer of a massage. He instantly finds a knot in my right shoulder.

“Ugh,” I groan. “That’s the spot. Right where I carry my bag every day.”

“We need to get you one of those ergonomic backpacks for all your tech.”

“Indeed,” I manage to whisper through the attention of his magic fingers. “Oh, that feels so good. You’re my hero right now.”

“Only right now?” he asks, mock hurt.

“All the time, but right now especially.”

“I guess I’ll take that,” he says with a laugh.

“You probably get massages all the time,” I say.

“Our trainers are pretty good to us, yes, but our muscles get tense and beaten up out there, so we need the therapy.”

“Do you like it? I mean, the violence of the game?”

“Hmmm. Well, I mean, I can’t say I like violence as a general rule. But violence is a part of the game. We’re all competitive. We all like winning. It can get heated sometimes, and it does push us to work harder.”

“So…yes?”

“I guess so?” he says, though it comes out like a question. “It’s not like I go out and pick fights on the street. It’s just part of hockey culture and we mostly leave it on the ice.”

“Mostly?”

“I mean…” He trails off and focuses on rubbing the tension away from my neck.

I am perfectly content to leave conversation behind and just focus on his strong hands working on my body. A sound of pure pleasure escapes from my mouth as I tip my head forward to give him access to my neck. I have no shame either, it feels too wonderful for me to care what I say.

I get lost in the feel of his fingers as they pressure the muscles in my neck and shoulders. Eventually, he pulls me back against his chest, between his legs, and he rubs my arms. I find myself getting so aroused by this simple act of touch, and I know I’m not alone, as I can feel him going hard against my back.

I arch a little, an invitation that he doesn’t miss as he moves his hands to gently massage at the sides of my torso. He takes his time, his hands finally working their way beneath the thin material of my bikini top. His fingers are so gentle as he touches my nipples, cups my breasts. I let out a sigh of wanting.

Evan adjusts, pulling his hands away and untying my suit. It falls free, floating away in the water, freeing my breasts. The cold air near hot water makes them pearl into tiny nubs that beg to be plucked.

He kisses my neck as his fingers play, one hand staying at my breasts, the other sneaking down over my stomach, beneath my bikini bottom.

I’m a live wire. It’s hard to decide which feels best—his lips on my neck, his fingers strumming at my nipples, or this new sensation of his fingers dipping between my folds.

When two fingers slip inside, I spread my legs wide. It’s such a strange experience, trying to find a way to brace myself in the water, but it feels so good that I don’t want it to stop.

Evan holds me to him. He murmurs, “You’re so beautiful, Holly. Turn around so I can look at you.”

I stand, shimmying out of my bottoms as Evan pulls off his trunks. He pulls me to him so that I’m straddling him. His erect cock rubs between my legs, against my swollen clit as his lips find mine. He holds me so close, both arms wrapped around me, one hand on my lower back, one at my neck. The feeling of being this close to him, skin on skin, the water bubbling around us. It makes me feel like I might catch fire.

We kiss for a long time until Evan stops suddenly with a lusty groan. He stands up, holding me to him, and steps out of the water. Still dripping wet, he carries me to the bed and lays me down. I’m bare to him for the first time.

Evan’s eyes travel the length of my body, his pupils dark, his gaze smoldering. My wet skin erupts in gooseflesh. I take a moment to revel in his naked body, as well. Wide shoulders, thick, dark hair on a sculpted chest. Washboard abs. Muscled thighs. And a cock the likes I’ve never seen before. It juts proudly as he stands there for me to look my fill of him. He is a beautiful man.

I sit right up on the bed and move toward him, determined to have what I want.

I take him in my mouth.

Evan’s eyes close and a dirty word escapes his lips in a rush of air. I explore him, my tongue taking in the taste of skin and salt and chlorine from the hot tub. I cup his balls and slide his length down my throat. I get lost in the moment, happy to pleasure him, happy to taste the salty pre-cum that falls on my tongue.

“My turn, baby.” He tells me before pulling himself out of my mouth and pushing me gently back down onto the bed again. He kisses every part of me, my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, my neck. His beard is soft and wiry against my skin. His tongue finds my nipples, licking and sucking, as his fingers again find my entrance, slipping inside, pumping lazily as my hips move to meet them.

He kisses my belly and my public bones. His tongue finds its way down to my clit, so sensitive and swollen. He bites a little, a feeling that reverberates into every nerve I have as my hips fly off the bed. He chuckles, the sound rumbling against my sex as he presses me back down into the mattress. Pinned down by his superior strength, I’m utterly devoured. He has me opened up for his pleasure and completely at his mercy. I never want it to end.

I feel myself moving up, up, up to the edge of a cliff. He’s made me feel this way before, but always half-clothed. Never skin-on-skin, never like this. I want him closer—need him closer.

“Inside,” I breathe. “I need you inside me.”

“Only after I feel you come.”

His fingers pick up the pace while his tongue continues to work at my clit. He sucks and bites and agitates and it doesn’t take long for me to fall. I let out a sound that’s practically inhuman as I forget to breathe, my body flexing toward the ecstasy as my insides clench and pulsates around Evan’s fingers and his tongue. I hear him saying words to me, but I couldn’t say what they are. I’m lost to the primal utterly and completely.

I’m not even sure I could tell him my name as I come down from the explosive orgasm he just gave me. My whole body is still primed as I watch him roll on a condom. His eyes are wild as he mounts me, ready to take us all the way. His movements firm, he stakes down my wrists with one hand and my jaw with the other. I moan as he presses the tip of his cock into me, flexing my hips as much as I am allowed. I might die like this and I don’t care.

And then, he thrusts hard into me and fills me deep. We both shout as he sinks himself all the way, our bodies flush. He pauses and kisses me in the same deep and claiming way. Cock, tongue, hands all owning me at once. It’s the best sexual experience of my life.

And then he starts to move. Long sliding drags in and out of my sex, hitting my clit with every excellent stroke. It takes no time before I’m coming a second time.

Just like that. He moves, and I’m gone, my body totally his, totally wired to please and be pleased. He keeps drilling me with his hard-as-steel-cock as I orgasm, pulling us closer together until there is no delineation between our bodies. He changes his position and pulls my legs up, giving him the deepest angle possible. Which he takes full advantage of as his thrusts grow even deeper and harder.

His tongue finds mine again as he continues to ride me. He kisses me as sounds of pleasure escape my throat. I feel him pick up the pace as he pushes me toward yet another precipice. It can’t be possible, but I am far past the ability to do anything but be carried along for the impending climax. When he buries his head at my neck, I feel him tense, my pussy clenching in uncontrollable spasms that seem to go on forever, milking his orgasm as I come with him. The sting of pain that accompanies the end only adding to the pleasure when I realize it came from his teeth on my shoulder. Evan is wildly dominant during sex.

Please and thank you.

I don’t want him to go anywhere, so I wrap my arms around him, letting him recover where he fell, along the length of my body, his cock still deep inside of me. We breathe together for minutes without saying anything. I don’t think there are words to express what that just was between us, so I’m completely content to be quiet.

Finally, he does roll off me in order to pull off the condom. But he comes right back to sprawl at my side, his magic fingers back to stroking over my breasts, forcing my nipples into hard peaks again.

“God, you’re so amazing,” he says, kissing the spot on my shoulder where he nipped me. “You’d tell me if I was too rough with you, right? I don’t ever want to hurt you, but I think I got a little carried away. I’m sorry if that was too much.” His handsome face looks worried as his eyes do a thorough check of my body.

“You were perfect in every way, and I wouldn’t want you to do anything different, Evan.” I hold out my arms for him and he returns to lay his head on the pillow beside mine. We stare at each other, quietly relaxing, touching hands, breathing.

I am the first to speak. “Well, that whole plan really worked out for you, didn’t it?”

We both burst into laughter. “Well, I hoped it would, but I would’ve settled for another night of making out with your very kissable and intoxicating lips.”

“This was so much better than making out though. Thank you for setting up our first shag, as the Brits say. Do you ever call it that?”

He laughs at my question and just shakes his head at me. “You’re welcome for the shag-party, darling. When can we do another?”

“If you feed me maybe sooner than you think,” I tease him right back.

“Oh shit, yes. Can I order us something? Or do you want to go out for a bit?”

“I’m never leaving this room, so I guess we’d better order in,” I say with a smirk. “I think staying in will be much...more enjoyable for the both of us.”

The implication is heavy in the air. In fact, the air is thick with this deepened connection between us, so much so that I find myself ready again, the pool of want swirling hot in my belly.

Evan gets up from the bed and leaves the room as I enjoy the sight of his tight ass flexing as he walks out. He’s back in mere moments, this time with the wooden board from the coffee table piled with fruit, cheese, bread, and other delights. He holds it low on his hips, so I can’t view his important bits. He’s so cute right now I could die.

“My woman wants food? I deliver.”

“How very caveman of you, but I’m totally into it.”

He places the board on the bed beside me and climbs back in. He takes his time making me a tiny sandwich with the bread, cheese and what looks like smoked turkey, before bringing it to my mouth. He’s feeding me food and my heart can’t take much more of the romance or it will surely explode. My eyes are unable to look away as he feeds me bites of food. I take each bite from his careful fingers and feel like the most cherished woman in the world.

Evan takes his own bites in between mine, occasionally giving me a kiss or two to break it up. We don’t speak. We are quiet and content, both of us taking our fill of each other. I look at him, and he looks at me, his eyes staring boldly wherever they will. The mood between us is inferno-hot, yet mellow at the same time.

And in this romantic way we eat what is probably the best dinner I’ve ever enjoyed in my life. Eventually we are full, and the tray gets moved off the bed. He’s sitting up against the headboard when he gets back into bed.

I know exactly what I’m doing.

This time, I push Evan flush against the headboard and I straddle him. I rub his cock against the wetness of my slit until his length is rock hard and weeping at the tip. His hands knead at my breasts and play with my nipples; all while wearing a smirking grin on his handsome face.

“You’re sexy when you smirk at me like that.”

“You’re sexy all the time,” he mumbles.

I grab another condom and roll it along his length before putting him inside of me. Hands braced on the headboard, I ride him with a purpose. He fills me so good. I start slow, leisurely, enjoying every penetration in and out. But before long, I’m moving faster, spurred by the pinches and bites he places on my nipples with his lips and teeth. His big hands are gripping the sides of my hips and working me on and off his cock with gusto. When I come, it’s maybe the most intense orgasm I have ever had. I would swear it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before tonight.

We take our time after that, Evan rolling me over without breaking our joining. He slows the pace, looking into my eyes, making sure I know this is more than sex.

The connection between us is electric. It’s so intense that I feel a lump forming in my throat, one I have to swallow. I feel my eyes leaking. Not in a rush, but a few tears roll down to fall on the sheets. Evan sees my tears, but kisses and licks them away, his tongue trailing down my cheek. He doesn’t stop for a long time and I don’t want him to. When he comes it’s less intense than the first time, but no less pleasurable. I feel him inside me when I fall asleep wrapped up in his arms.

But later, in the very early hours of morning, as we both find ourselves sleepy-awake at the same time, I tell him, “I really do care about you, Evan. And I trust you.”

“Thank you for telling me that.” He brings a finger to my lips and traces over them with the softest touch. “It means everything to me, Holly.”

I curl up in the crook of his arm, sleep taking over once more.

I’m almost asleep when I hear him.

I can’t be sure I heard him correctly either, but it sounded like, “I don’t know what you’ve done…to me…Holly…ruined…me for anyone else.”

Ruined, really? I couldn’t be totally sure that’s what he said, though. Between his accent and my sleepy state, I could have heard a lot of things.

Evan seems to sense my worry and pulls me in a little closer. I hear him speak one word, this time as clear as a bell.

“Crushed.”

I smile as I drift away.