20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

ETHAN

W e're practicing passes in twos. Raphael and I have partnered up.

The puck glides over the ice, our skates whispering along with the occasional clash of sticks. There's banter and shouts, but between Raphael and me it's quiet as we concentrate on the task at hand.

Breaking the silence, Raphael asks casually, "How's your girl doing, man?"

Startled, I jolt my head up, missing the pass and having to chase after the puck. "She's alright, getting along with the other ladies…" I respond, tossing the puck back with speed.

"Sarah mentioned she was upset yesterday," Raphael continues, effortlessly catching and returning the pass. "The girls took her out. I've never seen them so interested in anyone, Matthews."

I smile but lower my head, contemplating how Mia has been acting strange lately.

Does she regret telling Ryan? And what did he say to her? When I called Mia yesterday, she said it went better than expected and promised to share more details in person.

Now I'm wondering if Ryan made this difficult. I haven't talked to him yet, wanting to talk to Mia more about it first.

My anger against Ryan grows, and amid my frustration, I accidentally send the puck soaring towards Raphael's midsection.

"Watch it, man!" he exclaims, clutching his side.

"Sorry," I say, laughing nervously. "Need a band-aid for your boo-boo?"

All I get is a curse in response.

After practice, the first thing I do is message Mia.

Are you free? Heading back to the hotel now. Can we meet today? I text.

At the hotel lobby, I check my phone. I have a new message, but it's from Ryan.

We need to talk. I read his text and narrow my eyes.

I immediately call him.

"Hey," he answers.

"Hey," I reply.

An awkward silence follows.

"You said we needed to talk," I prompt, rubbing my forehead.

"Oh, right," Ryan sighs audibly. "Since when have you had your eyes on Mia?"

I bite my lip, and answer, "Let's be adults about this, okay? I never had eyes for your girlfriend when you two were together. Did I think she was pretty? Yes, I'm not blind, but I was also very, very married, and very, very loyal to my wife."

"Whoa," Ryan immediately interjects. "I believe you, man. That's what she said too. It's only about a little over a month, right?"

"Right," I say, starting to lose patience. "What did you say when she told you?"

"Not much, Ethan," Ryan admits. "I wish I handled it better than just saying ‘I'll pick up the bill'…"

"Well, if that's all you said, it's probably fine," I reply. "I've got to go now, okay?"

"Sure," he mumbles goodbye as I hang up.

I check my phone and see Mia is typing.

I'm in a call with my Miami office, she texts. I can drop by your room in a few minutes.

Nice! I text back. See you soon.

I head up to my room, stash my stuff in the closet, and settle in front of the TV, flipping through channels to catch the latest sports news about the upcoming game.

Feeling hungry, I call room service and order fried shrimp with tartar sauce, a beer for me, and a Shirley Temple for Mia. She's been into those lately, claiming she wants to cut back on drinking after losing control the first night we met up. I told her it's not a big deal, but she insists.

Soon after, Mia knocks at the door. She looks tired and I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her.

"Looks like you need some attention," I say, feeling a bit smug as I bring her inside.

"And what makes you say that?" she teases, resting her head on my shoulder.

"I heard you were upset yesterday," I admit. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Mia sighs deeply then sits on the couch, staring at her toes. After a few moments, she explains, "I'm just overwhelmed, I think. There's so much stuff happening at the same time."

I smile sympathetically but press on, "Did Ryan take it badly?"

I go sit by her side as she shakes her head. "He was shocked," she confesses. "I could tell he was uncomfortable. He left as soon as I told him."

"So, I don't need to punch him?" I say, easing her down to lie with her back against my chest.

"No," she replies with a small smile. "And knowing him, you don't have to worry about punches coming from his side either. I think he'll just need some time to adjust to the news."

I turn to kiss her, then I scoot down to rest my head on her stomach.

As I do, Mia flinches.

"What's wrong?" I ask with concern, sitting up and touching her stomach.

"It's nothing," she laughs awkwardly, gently moving my hand away. "Just a little stomachache."

As I lean down to kiss her stomach, Mia shakes her head. "Can I touch any other part?" I whisper in her ear, my breath warm against her ear as my fingers trace a delicate path between her legs.

Mia lets out a surprised giggle.

Her hands gently guide mine—one lingering between her legs, the other to her breast. I wrap my fingers around it, feeling its softness and warmth. The sensation of her skin under my fingertips is electric, and her sighs fuel my growing desire. I brush my thumb over her nipple, feeling it harden in response.

Burying my mouth in the curve of her neck, I savor the taste of her skin, while her moans mix with the sound of my breath. Each sound she makes urges me to continue, to explore her further.

With practiced hands, I undo the button of her jeans and unzip them. My fingers slip into her underwear, encountering the slick warmth of her arousal. The intoxicating scent fills my senses, heightening my desire. I trace lazy circles around her clit, feeling her body react instinctively.

Beneath me, Mia's movements are teasing as she slides her pants down to her hips with a deliberate slowness that drives me wild. I let out a low moan against her ear, my control slipping as my need for her grows more urgent. Her soft whimpers of pleasure only fuel my impatience for her.

I focus intently on her pleasure, my fingers caressing her most sensitive areas. I rub her clit in gentle, deliberate strokes before sliding a finger inside her. Her moans grow louder, and I can't resist the urge to add a second finger, curling them to hit that sweet spot.

The sensation of her warmth around my fingers is intoxicating. Her hips buck slightly, grinding against my hand, and I feel her body tightening with each touch. I'm lost in the rhythm of her reactions, my own need mounting with every sound she makes.

Reaching into my pants, I pull out my aching member and slide on a condom. Mia shifts her body on top of mine, her movements deliberate and enticing. I feel the heat of her against me as she settles in, her slick warmth enveloping me.

Our bodies find their rhythm in a passionate dance. Every thrust is met with an equal response from Mia, her movements fluid and responsive. Her hands grip my shoulders, nails digging in slightly as she rides me. The sensation is electric, making every nerve in my body come alive.

As we build towards a climax, the intensity of our connection deepens. I can feel her heartbeat quickening against my chest, her breathing becoming more ragged. Her eyes are locked on mine, filled with a mixture of need and pleasure that makes me lose myself in the moment.

Just as we are about to reach the peak, there is a knock at the door. Mia starts to pull away, but I hold her close, unwilling to let her go.

Ignoring the interruption, we continue, our movements growing more urgent and synchronized. My hands grip her hips, guiding her with a firm but gentle touch, while her body moves against mine with a perfect rhythm. Our breaths become ragged, mingling in a heated haze.

Finally, we reach an intense climax, our bodies collapsing together in a tangle of limbs, both of us breathless and spent. I hold Mia close, feeling her heartbeat slowly return to normal. We lie there, savoring the afterglow.

Another knock follows, louder this time. "Room service!" a voice calls from the other side of the door.

"What is it?" Mia asks, breathless.

"Food," I murmur, placing a heated kiss on her neck. "She'll leave it at the door…"

"No, cold food is the worst," she says, pulling away reluctantly and leaving me chuckling on the couch. "Coming!"

She quickly dresses and hurries to the door. I throw on my shorts and t-shirt and stand to grab my wallet for a tip.

Mia opens the door to the server, a tall young woman, who unloads the food onto the coffee table as Mia asks, "What have we got here?"

The woman replies by unveiling the dish and filling the room with its enticing aroma.

My stomach growls.

"Thank you," I say, slipping a crisp hundred-dollar bill into the server's hand.

Mia closes the door as the server wheels the cart away. We settle around the shrimp, its Cajun spices tantalizing my senses. Mia attacks the dish eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious.

"Take it easy, don't choke," I tease gently.

"I think I skipped lunch..." Mia says between bites, looking at me with a mixture of hunger and joy.

I take her hand and kiss it softly. "I need to take better care of you."

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, which she quickly wipes away. "Oh stop. Slow down, Mister... Remember, we're just taking things a day at a time," she urges playfully, her nerves showing.

I blink at her, sighing in surrender. "Okay."

But Mia's smile lights up the room, reminding me that every moment with her is precious and worth savoring.