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When a devastating injury threatens the career of Terence Tiles, the superstar goalie for the Seattle Kraken, the foundation of the life he meticulously built over eight years crumbles. Overwhelmed, he retreats from...
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I can't believe this. His ex-wife, ex-fiancée, whatever ex she may be, is here—and she's representing Victoria's Secret, of all things. The way he looked outside when he saw her, does he still have any feelings for her? Any at all? I know there’s history there, but how deep does it run? It was bad enough she paid him a visit back in Seattle, but now she has to be here too?
I look like I’m keeping it together, but I’m sure no one wants to hear the chaos in my head right now. I want to scream. As much as I care for the Krakens, I never expected to have them here, in the very castle where I grew up, with him in my childhood space.
I stand on the balcony of the second floor, anxious about visiting my teenage bedroom. I’m sure everything is untouched, probably with a layer of dust thick enough to write in, but I need to change into a new set of clothes, and I need to do it quickly—
“Ivy.”
For some reason, the tight feeling in my chest warms at the sound of his voice. I freeze as I hear his footsteps approach from behind, his presence a magnetic force drawing me in. I feel his breath on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I glance down at my heels, and as a result, he towers over me even more. The urge I felt to kiss him at the hotel resurfaces, more intense than ever.
Before I can react, he pins me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist. His lips crash into mine with a hunger that takes my breath away. The kiss is fierce, urgent, an explosion of pent-up emotions and unsaid words. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, as if trying to fuse our bodies into one. The cold stone of the wall presses into my back, contrasting sharply with the heat of his body against mine.
His mouth is insistent, demanding, and I respond with equal fervor, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The world outside fades away. There’s only the sensation of his lips moving against mine, the taste of him, the way his body molds against mine as if he’s afraid to let go. Each kiss deepens, a silent confession of everything we’ve both held back.
His hands travel up my sides, sending shivers through me, and I arch into him, needing more. He breaks the kiss just long enough to whisper my name, “Ivy,” his voice rough and filled with longing, before his mouth is on mine again, more desperate this time, more urgent. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing, of need, of an unspoken connection that neither of us can deny.
His lips move hungrily against mine, each kiss a testament to the fire that burns between us. I lose myself in the sensation, in the overwhelming rush of desire that floods my senses. His touch ignites a primal hunger within me, a craving that only he can satisfy.
As he presses me harder against the wall, I feel a surge of electricity course through my veins. Every nerve ending is alive with anticipation, every breath I take filled with the scent of him. His hands roam my body with an urgency that leaves me breathless, seeking out every inch of skin as if trying to memorize it.
