But she was real. Her fingers stroked over his chest and down his torso and along the bulge in his shorts, sizzling his nerve endings in her wake. She traced his arms, his back, and his neck, like she was mapping every inch for future exploration.
Need grew harsher, deeper, almost painful.
Dylan climbed off the bed. Grasping her hand, he pulled her up. Blair's hands landed on his waist and her fingers curled into his waistband. Her gaze steady on his, she tugged the fabric. Cool air hit his skin and his arousal sprang free as he helped her push his shorts and boxers to the floor. Before he could touch her, both of her hands closed over him in a tight grip. The alternating strokes and clever twists made his eyes roll back as he bit his lip. He grasped her shoulders as she continued to drive him to the edge of reason.
Barely maintaining control, he grabbed her wrists and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Keep them there."
Then he sank to his knees. Her pants hung low on her hips. He hooked a finger on each side and slid them down. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting for underwear, but the sexy, barely there bit of black material made his mouth go dry. His breath backed up in his lungs, and his lust spiraled. He glided the scrap of fabric down her legs and she stepped free of the pooled materials at her feet. Bared to him, by his hands, Blair was the sexiest sight he'd ever seen. He skated his hands up the smooth skin of her calves and thighs. Toned muscle quivered under his touch. He continued his wandering exploration over her center, with strokes of his fingers and licks of his tongue, until she trembled and sighed out his name.
He rose to his feet and grabbed a condom from his bag. He set it on the mattress.
Blair's arms wrapped around his torso and she pressed a kiss to his back. Then she slipped in front of him, snagged the condom, and crawled on the bed. She held it up and beckoned him with the crook of her finger.
Dylan followed her, bolts of lust charging through his blood. With sure fingers, she rolled on protection, then threaded her fingers in his hair and drew his mouth down to hers. Desperation made him rough. He took control of the kiss, directing her body down, and he settled himself between her thighs. Her hair spread across the pillow, the long delicate strands like straw spun into gold. Once again, his breath caught at the beautiful woman in his bed.
He kept his gaze on hers as he slowly sank inside her tight heat. Eyes clouded with passion, Blair wrapped her arms around his shoulders, locking him to her body. He found her lips as he pulled out and their groans vibrated together as he thrust in deeper. He increased his pace, snapping his hips as Blair arched to meet him. They fell into a steady rhythm. He shifted his weight onto his forearms. Every stroke stripped him of his control. Blair's nails raking down his back tipped him over the edge. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat beading on his skin, and the pleasure tingling at the base of his spine grew larger and larger until her release contracted around him and she gasped out his name. He moaned, hammering his hips harder and faster. He chased her lips, settling his mouth over hers. Her lips parted and her tongue licked at his. That little touch set him off and his release exploded, taking him under. He clutched at her shoulders, clinging to her as passion overwhelmed him.
Breathing hard, he lifted his head. Blair smiled at him. Her hands slid over his back in a gentle caress.
Caught between happiness and wonder, he traced his finger over her lips. Part of him couldn't believe that she was in his bed, that this had really happened.
He carefully rolled to his side then rose and dealt with the condom. He trekked through the room, turning off lights, and grabbed a fresh ice pack.
Blair lifted the covers for him when he came back to bed. She'd re-stacked his pillows for him. He settled onto his back and set the pack over his cheek, then lifted his other arm for her to curl into his side. He wrapped his arm around her and was struck by the awareness of how desperately good it felt to hold her close.
Blair's hand lay over his heart.
He didn't think she had any idea of the hold she had on it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLAIR GAVE ONE LAST sweeping glance of the training room. Everything was back in order after the Bedlam's practice. The guys had been riding high coming off of a seven-goal victory over Washington, and regaining the series lead three games to two. Dylan hung out, leaning against the closest table, scrolling through his phone as he waited for her to finish.
She bumped her hip into his jeans-clad leg. "I'm ready to go."
Her phone vibrated on the table and her father's name scrolled across her screen. Smiling an apology at Dylan, she answered it. "Dad?"
"This is Ben Charton," an unfamiliar voice came through the speaker. "I'm Rod and Dylan Fraser's friend. We've met a few times. I'm the owner of Jolt coffee shop. Your dad is here. He's disoriented and asked that I call you. I think he's okay, maybe just dehydrated. He said he's been walking for a while, trying to find his bank."
Not again. Dread and frustration swirled through her like a wayward shooting star. She pressed a hand to the needling nerves in her stomach and mentally calculated the distance to the shop. "I can be there in about twenty minutes. He doesn't always
