Caged (Gold Hockey Book 11) by Elise Faber (romantic love story reading TXT) 📕

was a universally stupid thing to do!” she snapped, shoving away from him.

“You didn’t like the gifts?”

She froze, spun back. “They were wonderful.”

“So, why am I stupid?”

“Because you could have come back, and we could have talked it out, and I didn’t need the gifts. I was miserable and hurt, and I—I just needed you.”

A warm chest pressed to her back, arms around her middle. “You’re right. It would have been much simpler to talk. Though I wouldn’t have gotten the whole team on my side, helping, wouldn’t have learned you loved Hot Tamales. Wouldn’t have gotten to shower you with the small gifts that are only a fraction of what you deserve.”

“I didn’t need—”

He spun her to face him. “But I did. I needed to give them to you, and I’m going to keep giving you everything you need in a thousand different ways.”

“Eth—”

“I love you. I’m going to take care of you.”

“I feel the same—”

His thumb brushed over her lips.

“But I didn’t think I deserved you. I had this well inside me that said because I’m not as smart as my parents because I’m not the most talented player on the ice, that because . . . so many other things . . . I thought you couldn’t want me. That I’d need to be more.” His hand slid down, lightly gripped the side of her neck. “And for you, I want to be more.”

“I don’t want more. I just want you.”

He shuddered, his chin resting on top of her head, his arms banding tight, drawing her against his chest. Probably, she should be disgusted to be wrapped in the sweaty embrace of a man who’d just spent the last three-plus hours working his ass off, but instead of that, she was just wrapped in everything that was this man—his scent, spice and salt, but not unappealing; his gentle touch, his arms slipping around her, holding her carefully; and his words, softly whispered in her ear, words of love and romance, ones she didn’t fully process at first, except to understand that the tone was smooth and easy, and then she did, and more tears joined those on her cheek, her lungs breathing.

Because this man was wonderful.

Ethan ran his hand up and down her back, calming her, still murmuring gentle words, comforting her without telling her to stop crying.

Because she hated that, hated when someone told her to not cry.

And of course, he instinctively knew that, just continued to whisper that he “had her,” and held her tight, stroked her gently until she’d gotten herself under control, until the tears no longer came, and the sobs quieted.

“Sorry,” she whispered, wiping her eyes and cheek with the hem of her shirt, glad that what little makeup she wore was waterproof and so wouldn’t end up with her fun, sparkling gold eye shadow smeared all over her face. “This was supposed to be a romantic moment, but now I snotted all over you.”

“You never need to apologize for letting me hold you,” he said, cupping her cheek, thumb drifting up and wiping away some moisture she had missed. “Snot or otherwise.”

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dani shook her head. “I didn’t mean to lose it. I—”

“Dani.”

She was already forming the next reply in her mind, started to pull herself out of his arms. “I just. It’s been a lot and I—”

His hand on her waist tightened, holding her against him. The one on her cheek stayed gentle. “Dani.”

“And I—”

“Dani,” he said. “I’m telling you this in the nicest possible way.” A beat as she watched laughter trickle into his expression, his mouth softening, so fucking tempting that she wanted to rise on tiptoe and close the distance between their lips. “But please, just shut the fuck up.”

Outrage down her spine.

A gasp of indignation on her tongue.

But he didn’t stop talking, just continued to hold her stare as he said, “I love you.” That thumb swept forward, traced over her bottom lip. “You’ve held my heart in your palm from the moment I first saw you stroke an iPad, from the second you laughed and let those amber eyes meet mine.”

She wrinkled her nose. “They’re just boring brown.”

“Lies.” He shook his head, hand sliding up, thumb now lightly drifting across the bottoms of her lashes. It tickled, but she didn’t back away. “You have tones of mahogany and amber in there, tiny streaks of gold and russet. I swear,” he said, tone going a little husky, “every single time that you let me see them, I find a different shade in them.”

Her pulse skipped around in her veins, as though someone had somehow dumped Pop Rocks into them. “I like your eyes, too,” she whispered.

He smiled, that lovely turn up of his lips Dani felt in the depths of her soul—sticky cotton candy on her fingertips, sweetness tingling on her tongue, warmth in her belly . . . desire pooling between her thighs.

“Dani?” he asked again, and God, she loved the way he said her name.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” A millisecond later, his mouth was on hers, his palm tilting her head back so their lips were perfectly aligned, his hand on her hip drawing her a little closer, until she could feel his shin guards pressing against her legs, the thick protective hockey pants he wore firm against her pelvis and stomach, his chest hard where it met hers, his muscles gloriously clad in just that thin, black material. Her nipples tightened, her womb clenching in her abdomen, her pussy growing damp.

His tongue flicked against her mouth, deftly parting her lips to drift inside her mouth, to tangle with hers.

She rose on tiptoe, drifting closer, her tongue and lips not shy but joining in the glorious dance with him. The world fell away. She forgot about his gear, about the cool air of the ice drifting down the tunnel—she was plenty warm in his arms anyway. She forgot all about the publicness of their position.

And she wouldn’t