The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22) by Christopher Nuttall (ebook pc reader .txt) 📕

Because the team was part of their love story.

And anyway, Ethan was the only thing she could process.

His body, hard. His touch, gentle. His ability to melt the very marrow of her bones, vast.

His kiss, marking the beginning of their happy ending.

His hand slipped from her cheek to skate along her jaw, to drift up into her hair, fingers tangling in the curls, and he kept his mouth on hers, kissing her until she was a bundled ball of nerves, desperate for more.

He nipped her bottom lip, kissed her deeper, hauled her closer.

She moaned, nipped him back, and murmured, “I love you.”

He froze and for one instant, the kiss got somehow even hotter. Their bodies coming even closer together, her hands gripping his shoulders, his drifting down to cup her ass, but then as things were just getting really good . . .

He pulled back.

With a wince.

Horror and embarrassment flooded through her. Oh God, she’d . . . done something. Hurt him somehow. Shit. He’d taken a puck to the ribs during the game.

She must have hit it.

She jumped back, flinching when his fingers caught on her hair for a heartbeat. “I’m so sorry,” she said, fumbling with the words, her hands wringing in front of her as she stood in that cool tunnel.

Ethan took her hands. “You’re sorry for giving me the hottest kiss of my life? For returning my love? For making me the happiest I’ve ever been?”

Well, put it that way.

She was sucked into the thunderstorm of his eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I love you, you ridiculous woman.” He straightened, a slow breath slipping out of his lips. “But what could possibly make you think I was hurting?”

“I saw you wince.”

Now a smile teased the edges of his mouth. “I don’t suppose you noticed that I’m still half-dressed.”

Dani blinked at the humor of his tone. “Um, yes, I did notice that.”

“Well”—hint of pink tinged his cheeks—“there’s not really a delicate way to say this except to confide in you that an erection in a cup isn’t exactly conducive to comfort . . . or blood flow.”

Formal words that took her a moment to process.

Then when they did . . . her mouth dropped open, and her gaze . . . well, it dropped south, arrowing in on the region covered by hockey pants and the aforementioned cup. “You’re hard right now?”

He groaned, put a finger under her chin, tilting it back up. “Not helping, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve got to go back into that locker room, and I can’t be swinging my hard dick around.”

“But I like seeing you swing it around. I especially liked it when you—”

“Not cool, Dani,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her mouth, though his eyes sparked with humor. “I’m trying to not have a boner, and you’re not helping my problem.”

“I like your—”

“You’re a menace,” he growled.

A blip of pride wove through her.

No one had ever called her that before. “I love you.”

“God.” His breath whispered against her mouth. “I love it when you smile like that.”

“Like what?”

“Heat on the edges, sweet in the center.” He groaned again. “One more, and then I promise I’ll shower before I take you back to the hotel room and show you how good I can swing my cock around.”

“We’re hopping on the plane after this.”

“Fuck.” A pause, dancing storm cloud eyes on hers. “Mile high club?”

She burst out laughing. “I can barely fit into the bathroom, let alone both of us.”

A grin, a brush of his thumb. “I think we can do anything we put our minds to.”

She nipped that thumb. “Even loving a stubborn, shy woman?”

“Especially loving a shy, stubborn, wonderful woman,” he said. “Now, give me my one more.”

Before she could agree to that sentiment—and for the record, she would have wholeheartedly agreed—but before she could tell him yes, before she could just flat out kiss him again, his lips were on hers, his tongue in her mouth. Both hands went to her ass, lifting her against him, narrowing the distance so he didn’t have to bend so far, their height difference dramatic with him in his skates.

And . . . then she stopped thinking about the movements and height difference and slipped back into strictly feeling, soaking into the sensations his kisses evoked. The prickles of his beard on her skin, the slight tickle of it brushing along the underside of her nose. Desire licking along the underside of her skin, burning along the edges of her nerves.

“Fuck,” he gasped, breaking away so quickly that she wobbled on her feet, might very well have toppled over if not for him catching her shoulders and righting her.

“Yes,” she murmured.

He smiled. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, we can try for the Mile High Club.”

Ethan burst out laughing, bending at the waist, coaxing laughter out of her until her cheeks hurt.

Until that happy ending was a living, breathing thing within her.

He tugged one of her unruly curls, smiled that special smile just for her. “You just try and get rid of me.”

Her breath caught, and she almost launched herself right back into his arms, the temptation to taste him, to hold on to this lovely, buoyant, confident feeling so strong that she didn’t want to chance not feeling it again.

But then Brit came around the corner, Fanny at her shoulder, and both women took in Dani’s closeness to Ethan, his hand still on her shoulder, both of them flushed, their lips kiss swollen. In an instant, Brit grinned and clapped her hands together. Fanny smiled, nodding approvingly.

And knowing this was going to be fodder for the gossip train—and not giving a damn—she found herself turning toward Ethan, tugging his head down, and kissing him with every bit of joy and love she felt.

Then she pulled away, loving the red staining his cheeks, the dazed look in his eyes. His fingers were tight on her hips, his lips glistening from their kiss. She nudged him back, stepped away. “I’ll see you on the plane.”

And then she