Score Her Heart: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Philadelphia Bulldogs Book 2) by Danica Flynn (free novels .TXT) 📕

I shrunk down on the couch. “Because it’s a marriage of convenience. Yeah, he’s my best friend, but why should I think he’s not out there fucking other women?”

“Honey, have you two talked about that?”

I went to open my mouth to answer, but then the front door opened, which alarmed both of us because I always made sure to lock it. I leaned over the couch to see Riley drop his bag down at the front door. We locked gazes, and I saw the fire in his blue eyes. Heat pooled low in my belly at the sight of him in that immaculately tailored suit. My husband was FIIINE. His eyes shifted slightly to the left of me to see Katie on the couch beside me. His face shifted in confusion, but then he smiled.

“Hi, Katie!” he greeted.

“Hi, Riley!” she greeted back cheerfully. She turned to me with a smirk. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

I grabbed her arm. “What? No, you don’t have to leave.”

Her eyes glanced between me, and Riley and then she laughed. “Um, yeah, I think I do.”

She gathered her things and patted Riley’s arm on the way-out. “Bye, Riley!”

He smirked. “Leaving so soon?”

She laughed her way out the door. I slunk down into the couch, but Riley crossed over to me and sat beside me. He put his arm around me and pulled me toward him. I swear I nearly purred. I had missed his strong arms pulling me towards him and the smell of his scent on the sheets. Shit, I had really missed him. Like I missed him so much, I was sleeping in his old t-shirts at night to feel like he was there. Shit, maybe Katie was right. Maybe Riley wasn’t just my best friend anymore; maybe he was something much more, and that scared me.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he stroked my hair. “How was your week?” he asked.

“Fine. Waiting on edits, trying to work on new things,” I answered truthfully. Not what I wanted to say, which was, “Shitty, because you weren’t here, and I’m mad that we haven’t had sex since we got married, and can you please throw me down and tear off my clothes?” Although, if I said those things out loud, he probably would have loved it.

I pulled my head off his chest and saw he was looking at me intensely. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was stopped by his mouth, crushing up against mine roughly. His hands were in my hair, and I pulled at the collar of his shirt with both of my hands. I kissed him back urgently like I needed his tongue in my mouth in order to breathe air. We pulled away from each other as suddenly as the kiss started, both of our chests heaving from being out of breath.

He leaned his forehead against mine. “Would it be bad if I told you I missed you?”

“No,” I whispered back. “I missed you, too.” My hands clutched the lapels of his dress shirt, and I wanted to tear it off of him.

His hands covered my own, and he pushed my hands off of him. I pouted, and he laughed at me while he squeezed out of the suit jacket. “I need a beer. Do you want a beer?” he asked.

Instead of answering his question, I blurted out the first thing that came into my head. “No, I want you.”

He froze mid-getting up from the couch, but then he sat back down. He reached down to grab onto my thighs and swung me around, so I was straddling his hips on the couch. I melted at his touch while his hands roamed down my back until he firmly squeezed my ass.

I placed my hands on his chest. “Why haven’t we had sex since Vegas?” I asked.

“I didn’t want you to think that was all I wanted,” he answered with a grunt as I ground myself against the hard bulge in his pants. Oh, his dick certainly was happy that I was on top of him.

“You say you want this marriage to work, but you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length. Riley, I have needs, too.”

He sighed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I promised you that I wouldn’t be like him. That I wouldn’t forget we hadn’t had sex in months.”

“It hasn’t been months.”

“Not the point, Fiona,” he growled.

Mmm, I loved that growly alpha-male shit.

“Oh. Well, you can make it up to me now,” I whispered into his ear.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

I gripped the back of his neck hard, digging my fingernails roughly into his skin. “I want you to touch me, please.”

“Where?” he asked huskily.

“Everywhere,” I breathed.

In a split-second, he stood, and I had my legs wrapped around his waist. We kissed like that while he slowly backed us into the bedroom. I loved the way he could lift me up like it was nothing. He tossed me on the bed and frantically started undoing his tie. I ripped my t-shirt off and was unbuttoning my jeans while he slowly undid the buttons on his crisp dress shirt. I slid my jeans down my thighs, but my mouth watered watching him reveal the hard planes of his chest with each button. I glared up at him because he was doing that on purpose.

“Stop being a tease!”

He went slower on the last button with a wicked grin. He gestured to his six-pack. “You thirsty for this bod, sweetheart?”

“Baby! Get over here and fuck my brains out!”

He laughed and finally pulled the shirt off his body and dropped it to the floor. I was too eager for this, arousal pooling low in my belly. I unclasped my bra and kicked my panties off, then leaned back on the bed, naked and ready for him. I watched him hungrily undo his belt buckle and kick his pants onto the floor. Damn, he was