Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Saylor

I wake in the morning to feel a warm, hard body behind me.

My own body, especially my nether regions, is a little tingly and sore.

It had been a memorable evening, despite my surprise that he'd just shown up. His need for me had been almost palpable, and if I'm honest, I'd been equally needy. The pull between us is impossible to ignore, and frankly, I don't want to. I like how he makes me feel, and how good it is. Separating the physical from the emotional can be tricky, but I'm an adult. I'll figure it out.

"Hey." I turn in his arms and nestle into his chest.

"Morning." He wraps his arms around me though his eyes remain closed.

"Do you have practice?"

He shakes his head. "Day off."

"Nice. Shall I let you sleep or…" I let my voice trail as I skim my hand over the curve of his very hard, muscular backside.

"Or?" He opens one eye.

"I don't have today off, so I need to get in the shower. Are you coming?"

"Soon."

Without a word, he flops onto his back, pulling me with him so my knees are on either side of his hips.

"Take what you need, baby."

Our eyes lock and there's a moment of what I can only describe as perfection.

He's perfect.

We're perfect.

What we're doing is perfect.

I've never thought of sex, or a lover, this way before, but it makes sense in this context.

Because Canyon Marks is like no one else.

He rolls down a condom that seems to have appeared out of thin air, and then I just sink down.

Fuck, he feels so good inside me.

What is it about this man that makes me so ready to throw caution—and every ounce of common sense I have—to the wind? I've been around the block enough times to know that good sex doesn't equal feelings or a relationship. But this isn't some one-night stand either.

"That's my girl, ride me like you own my cock."

Well, that bossiness is certainly part of it.

The way he barks out commands turns me on like almost nothing else.

His gritty voice.

Those beautiful eyes looking up at me.

His cock buried to the hilt.

My eyes close, and I can't think anymore.

The only thing I'm capable of right now is feeling.

And picking up speed.

Because the orgasm I'm chasing has already caught up to me, and my body tightens expectantly.

"That deep enough for you, baby?" he murmurs. "Does it hurt yet?"

A little more dirty talk and that's all she wrote.

"Canyon! Fuck-fuck-fuck!" I throw back my head and dig my nails into his chest as I wail and shudder and bounce.

"That's what I like to see." His hands skim my lower back, the curve of my ass, the outsides of my thighs, stroking softly as I come back to earth.

"What do you do to me?" I demand, collapsing on him.

How many times has he gotten me off in the last twelve hours or so? Four? Five? I've lost count.

"Nothing like making a lady scream your name," he says, wrapping his arms around me.

I can still feel little shockwaves of pleasure as his cock continues to pulse inside me, and it's glorious.

I'm going to fall hard and fast for this guy, I know it in my soul, but I don't care.

"What time do you have to be at work?" he asks after a while.

I haven't moved and have no intention of doing so any time soon.

"Eh. I'll get there when I get there."

"You have time for me to take you to breakfast?"

I probably don't, but I'll go anyway.

Because it's Canyon.

Because I want to draw this out and enjoy whatever time we have together.

"I can make time," I say, slowly shifting away from him. "But first, shower."

"I can make you come in the shower too," he teases, slapping my ass.

"I'll bet you can."

"That's not a bet you want to make," he says, pinching one of my nipples.

And I'm wet again.

What the hell.

Shower sex is awesome.

* * *

We have breakfast at a little diner not far from my house, and he slides in beside me in the booth, instead of sitting across from me. I enjoy the feel of his strong, muscular thighs against the side of my leg, the way he casually slips an arm over my shoulders. When he leans back and extends his long legs in front of him, my libido goes into overdrive. Again. All I have to do is look at him, and I'm ready to crawl all over him.

This can't be normal.

Can it?

"Too bad you have to work today," he says, sipping his coffee. "We could take a drive down to the PCH."

"I have so much to do," I admit, even though a drive along the Pacific Coast Highway is one of my favorite things. There's a beautiful view, with the ocean on one side and mountains on the other. It's also incredibly romantic.

"I don't get many days off," he cajoles. "This is a limited-time opportunity."

I chuckle. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Marks."

"I try." He looks at me, and I can't tell what's lurking behind those sapphire orbs. It's not sexual, exactly, but almost like a hunter scoping out his prey. Like he's going to devour me. And I'm not sure what that means.

"I guess I could take half a day," I say with a smile.

"We've got a game and then the gala," he says. "Then we head out on another road trip. I'm not around much during hockey season."

"I understand. I'll be traveling a bit coming up too. And the gallery's been busy since the vandalism. I'm worried about not having enough stock."

"How long does it take you to come up with new paintings?" he asks as the waitress puts down our food.

"It's always different. Sometimes I can do it in one sitting. Other times, it takes weeks. Every piece is different, every day is different. Sometimes I just don't feel like painting. Other times, I can't stop. My creative muse is kind of an asshole in that way."

"I don't think I have much creativity in me," he says thoughtfully. "Not like with artistic stuff."

"We all have different strengths," I say. "I mean, put me on skates and you'll see a distinct difference."

He laughs. "I'd like to see you on skates. Would you go skating with me sometime?"

"Sure." I nod. "As long as you don't care that I'll be grabbing on to you for all I'm worth."

"That's what would make it fun. I skate for work, so the only reason I'd do it for fun would be to have a gorgeous woman hanging on to me. Or to maybe teach some kids to skate."

"The Phantoms do a lot of community outreach. I'm surprised Harper hasn't hooked you up with a program like that yet."

"She hasn't needed me," he responds. "A bunch of the guys already do it and I got here just before the season started so I didn't have time to settle in for all that stuff. Maybe next season."

We chat about random topics as we eat, including the upcoming gala and the next games. It's comfortable, even though I spend a lot of time trying to focus on something other than how handsome he is. How nice it feels to be close to him like this. How my body is on constant alert just by his proximity.

I can't explain the connection between us, and he hasn't acknowledged it verbally, but why else did he show up at my place last night? He came right out and admitted he had the opportunity to sleep with someone else, but he didn't want to.

He wanted me .

I know it's just sex—really, really good sex—but it's hard not to want more.

Especially when I know he wants me too.

"Your nipples are hard," he murmurs against my ear, one hand traveling along the side of my neck. The same spot he squeezed last night as he made me come riding his fingers.

"Canyon…" I whimper, squirming in my seat.

"You're making it really difficult to be a gentleman," he says quietly, using his free hand to drag one of mine to his crotch.

He's hard.

Sweet Jesus, he's as turned on as I am.

"Maybe I don't need you to be a gentleman," I whisper, swallowing.

"You'd rather spend the day in bed instead of going for a drive?" It's a question, but it's also a statement.

Because he already knows the answer.

Hell, he knew it before I did.

"I want both," I admit.

"Then you're going to have to take more than half a day off."

Luckily, I can do that.

Because I'm the boss.

And there's no universe where I turn down more time with this guy.

Whatever repercussions come of it, well, I'll deal with them when I have to.

For now, I refuse to have regrets.