Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(32)

Eventually, the room started getting a little cool, so he pulled a sheet up over us. That was even better. I loved being this close to someone, cocooned in arms and sheets with nothing to do but touch and breathe.

After some undefined stretch of time, I broke the kiss and watched my own fingertips trailing along the elaborate tattoos on his left arm. I’d seen them all before in photos—when he wasn’t in a suit or on the ice, he almost always wore T-shirts or tank tops, and the Steelheads even had CROWE hoodies and long-sleeved tees with his tattoos printed on them. They weren’t exactly kept a secret.

Before I could stop myself, I laughed.

Asher cocked his head. “What?”

“I…” Chuckling, I traced the edge of the photorealistic steelhead trout above his elbow. “At the risk of sounding like a starstruck fanboy, I never thought I’d get to see this ink up close. Definitely not this close.”

He blushed. “Did you want to?”

“Uh. Kinda. Yeah.” I swallowed. “Okay, more than kinda.”

The blush deepened, and he slid his palm up the middle of my chest. “Well, feel free to look all you want. Keep touching me like that, and you might get me turned on again, though.”

“Oh yeah.” I trailed featherlight fingertips down his ink-covered forearm. “Can’t have that, can we?”

He shivered, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

“You might have to give me a little while, though. Some of us aren’t in our twenties or in peak physical shape.”

Asher quirked an eyebrow, sliding his hand back down my chest to my abs. “You’re not exactly lacking.”

“No, but I’m not going to hold my own in a PHL game, either. Or come seven times a night.”

He laughed. “If I try to come seven times tonight, I won’t even make it out on to the ice for practice tomorrow.” A little smirk played at his lips. “Though it would be kind of fun to explain that to my coach. “

“Oh yeah. I’m sure he’d love that excuse.”

Asher snickered, but then his humor faded. “So, um. Is there any chance of doing this again?”

Christ. All he had to do was float the idea of a rematch, and my cock was already interested. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah, I…” He avoided my eyes, suddenly shy.

I tipped his chin up. “What?”

Asher swallowed. “Just, um… I mean, it’s literally been less than an hour since my ex got his crap out of here. And less than a week since we split up. I’m totally onboard with meeting up and fooling around, but I’m not sure about anything else.”

“I haven’t been single all that long myself.” I caressed his face. “We don’t have to nail this down and give it a name right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Does it need a name?”

He pursed his lips as he seemed to mull it over. Then he shook his head. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

“Then don’t worry about it. We’re still catching our breath from our exes. No reason we can’t enjoy something together while we do that.”

“But what if one of us wants something else?” From the worried creases in his forehead, I honestly couldn’t say if he was more concerned about me wanting something or him.

“Don’t know.” I shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it, I guess.”

“So we just fool around and see what happens?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The worry gradually faded from his face, and he smiled as he ran the backs of his fingers down my arm. “Yeah. Sounds good to me too.”

“Kinda figured it would.”

Asher laughed. “Cocky fucker.”

“Uh, I’ve seen you on the ice. I’d say I’m in good company.”

He chuckled again and pulled me in for another kiss. We let it linger for a moment, and then he deepened it, and when a shiver pressed me against him, his lips curved into a grin against mine. “You have enough left for another round?”

“Enough left?” I guided his hand down between us to my hardening cock. “I’m old, but I’m not dead.”

Asher laughed and started to say something, but the deep, demanding kiss I claimed shut him up.

And yes, I definitely had another round left in me.

*

“You’re on your phone a lot tonight.” Claire’s tone wasn’t obnoxious, but it didn’t take much to catch the accusation.

I glanced down at my phone and the message Asher had sent, which I’d been in the middle of responding to. Then I looked at my kids, who’d fixed their attention on the TV screen but somehow didn’t seem to be completely ignoring me. Claire’s jaw worked. David’s posture was tense all over.

I cleared my throat. “Is, um… Is that a problem?”

Neither of them answered or looked at me. I was genuinely surprised I couldn’t hear their teeth grinding.

I glanced down at my phone again. Back at the kids again. “You aren’t ready for me to start dating again.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not unless it’s Marcus.” David had inherited his bluntness from both his mother and me, but it still caught me off guard sometimes. Maybe because I hadn’t expected either of them to be this angry for this long over me leaving Marcus. Except I probably should have. After all, he’d orchestrated it so they would not only be as hurt as possible, but they’d pin that hurt on me.