Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(80)

"Why's that? What you got under there?" he asked suspiciously, playfully pulling at the collar of my coat.

I unbuttoned the first button and then smiled. "Nothing…" I wasn't lying, I had nothing but the jacket and shorts on. No bra.

"Keep that f*cking coat on." He smirked and shook his head, shifting in his seat and then draping his arm over the back of my chair. "This is almost as bad as you sleeping in my childhood bed."

"Why, are you turned on, Mase?" I felt like I had just scored the winning goal in overtime from the look on his face

"Hell yes I'm turned on," he informed me as he wrapped his arms around me and stroked the outside of my jacket, bunching the material between his fingers. "We need to leave." He went from telling me to keep the coat on to trying to rip it off.

I was pretty sure I choked on my own tongue, but I kept my cool. "Nah, I'm hungry."

Evan groaned, his head falling forward to rest against the table as his family showed up.

Evan seemed very agitated because of what I had done, so I decided I was going to be brave and try what Callie had said. Public indecency.

"We only have a few minutes," I whispered. "There's a bathroom down the hall."

"And I only need a few seconds."

His kiss was intoxicating as ever, lips moving so softly over mine with just the slightest hint of tongue. I felt my head spinning in a way that made me feel breathless, dizzy, but also just right.

"That's all, huh?"

Laughing, he bent to kiss my cheek. "What can I say, you do things to me. Good things. Dirty things." He looked at his dad who'd just walked in. "We'll be right back."

"Yeah, sure." Sam said, rolling his eyes.

We found a bathroom down the hall in the restaurant. Evan turned and locked the door. The look in his eyes gave me no doubt that he was going to hold true to his promise. Or threat for that matter.

"Well look at that!" Evan quirked his brow and leaned forward, pushing me against the wall. "You weren't lying about nothing being under this coat."

"Nope."

The coat was removed quickly. It was another one of those times when my hockey player showed me about his sprinting speed and his endurance to get the job done in a penalty kill situation. He was on his game, and I could now understand Callie's remark about Evan making her scream in a matter of seconds.

His slow, even strokes grew slightly more forceful as I felt myself getting there. Broken moans and quiet sighs filled the bathroom stall as he hunched over me, releasing my hips to move his hands to the door of the stall, gaining the exact angle I needed.

His cheek pressed into my neck, and he buried his head in my skin with a moan as he released into me.

My legs dropped from around his waist, our limbs tangling together as he shifted, trying to get me back to a standing position without falling.

"Like I said, I only needed seconds."

I winked, righting my clothing. Just as I was about to leave, he stopped me. "I love you, Ami," he said seriously, his eyes imploring me to believe him. And I did.

"I love you, too," I said softly, then looking up into his eyes, clarified, "always have." I knew he understood what that meant because I loved him for so many reasons.

Evan, my all heart and soul knight in shining armor defenseman took me in, saved my life when I had no one left, and showed me a love I'd never in my life imagined feeling. A love that no matter what was thrown at it, it broke free.

There were times when my mind would lose just a fraction of my will to go on. Any self-pity and I would look at Evan and his ability to just be himself, and I would see why it was I needed him.

There was something insanely intimate with the way he watched me in that moment, a reminder I wasn't far from his thoughts and never would be.





Breakaway – When a player has possession of the puck and no defenders other than the goalie between him and the opposing goal.




"You know, when you two get married, you should do it at the United Center and then when you say I do, they could play Chelsea Dagger and throw hats on the ice and—"

"Caitlin!" I finally cut her off. "Stop that."

"Sorry," she mumbled, sufficiently chastised. My dad glared at me.

Ami gave me a look like I shouldn't have shouted at my sister. "She's practically planning our wedding. She needs to stop."

"Oh, she's just talking." Ami handed me a hot dog from the grill. "There are no plans."

We were outside having a family barbeque, more than likely the last one before training camp started.

"There might be eventually," I hinted, adjusting my hat and then sitting down at the picnic table next to her. "And they should be our plans." I kissed her cheek. "Not my sister's."

Ami smiled and relaxed against me.

The thought of us getting married someday was something I entertained, it was comforting even, but neither of us were ready for that. Eventually, maybe even next year, or the year after, but there was no rush. Neither one of us were going anywhere. I loved her. She loved me. That was all that mattered.

I wasn't the same guy I was when I met Ami. I didn't regret how I reacted when I found out it was Dave, my so-called friend, and I would do it again, even if it ended my career. At the same time, that night changed me.