Mike startles awake, like he does most mornings. He’s disoriented and pops his eyes open, looking around. He’s at home. In DC. And he’s alone. He takes a deep breath and settles back into bed. He’s had problems with rough landings in the morning since moving into the loft, never completely sure where he’s at. But it’s fine now.

Slowly the memories from last night filter back into his brain and he grins. He is sore and when he stretches his arms he loves cataloguing every place Dell had made him ache. They gone two more rounds before finally passing out around three and his room is destroyed. He glances down at his floor; yeah, the lamp is still broken. He grins to himself again.

His bed is empty though. She’s gone. He frowns and glances around. Her under ware is still hanging off his closet door, her bra over on the dresser. She’s gotta be around here somewhere. Mike pulls on a pair of sweats and heads out into the main room.

Dell is still there. There’s soft music filtering into his loft, something he absolutely doesn’t recognize, and she’s puttering around his kitchen, singing along. He grins again because she’s wearing one of his shirts. His name and number plastered on her back make his groin tighten. He might like that image way too much.

He approaches quietly. She’s cooking something and as he gets closer he realizes that it smells amazing. Mike doesn’t even know how he had enough groceries for food but he loves it. He’s never letting her go. Not ever.

“Good morning gorgeous.” Dell doesn’t startle when he slides his arms around her waist. She laughs instead, leaning back into him. She turns her face to his and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning. Sleep well?” Mike nods against her neck, breathing her in. She’s still got the faint traces of her perfume but he can smell the sex more. His dick is starting to take a distinct notice and he pushes into her soft backside. “Easy killer. Don’t want to burn your breakfast.”

Ugh. He’s so gone. His hands slide down her thighs and then back up, dragging the tee-shirt with it. She’s definitely not wearing any panties. He groans when his palms meet the bare skin of her hips. “Can’t help it. You’re in my kitchen, wearing my name. Pretty sure that means I get to do what I want.”

Dell laughs again and wiggles away from him. “Hot stove. Give me some space. Can you make some coffee? I couldn’t find your grinder.” The omelet she’s working on looks fluffy and delicious and he leaves her to it. It’s early still, not even eight. He has all day. He curses mentally when he remembers he doesn’t actually have all day: he’s got practice. He doesn’t want to go; there is no point. Shit lock out, keeping him from real hockey.

He glances over at the mostly-nude brunette when she starts singing along with the music again. The singer has a set of pipes on her and Dell, Dell can’t really keep up but she seems happy to try. “Who is this?”

She does a little sway before answering. “Adele. Is it too moody? I’ve got some more upbeat stuff on my phone.” He watches her expertly handle the skillet, flipping the omelet in the air. His mouth drops open. She just flipped an omelet. Holy shit. Never letting her go.

“No, it’s fine. I was just curious.” He drags his eyes away when the grinder in his hand starts making a clunking sound. Well, that can’t be good. Nothing seems broken though so he starts the coffee and takes a seat on the other side of the counter. If he gets any closer he’s going to fuck her against the refrigerator, delicious food be damned.

It takes her less than two minutes to get the omelet finished and plated up for him. Some toast appears already buttered, next to the eggs and she sets it out for him. “This looks amazing. Thank you!” She seems very pleased with herself as she leans forward over the counter to run her hand through his hair.

Dell definitely has a thing for it. Despite the aggravation of it being so long he is so glad he hasn’t cut it since the playoffs. When he’d been going down on her during round two she’d held him to her tight with both hands. He’d almost come when her little breathy moans and turned into desperate panting. It had been that hot. He takes a few bites of the omelet and it is really really good. She’s put in some onions and a green pepper, which he knows he didn’t have. “Did you go grocery shopping this morning?” She nods happily over her fresh cup of coffee. “Wow, you didn’t have to. Really. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. A bit of a thank you for you I guess. I had a lot of fun last night.” She ducks her head when she says it, coloring a bit. She’s sort of shy sometimes and he thinks it’s adorable. Mostly because when he gets shy and colors like that she looks at him just like he’s looking at her now.

“Believe me when I say the pleasure is all mine.” That gets her laughing again and he joins in. She takes another sip of her coffee but hasn’t moved to the stove to make another for herself. “Are you not eating?”

Dell holds up the cup like she’s giving a toast. “All I need right here. I don’t have a lot of time anyway; I have class at eleven and if I want to look like a presentable doctorate student I need a shower more than anything.” Her smile is mischievous. “I kinda smell like sex.”

“You smell great. Like us.” That gets another blush and she sets the cup down. “Can I give you a ride back to your place? I’ve got practice at eleven too.”

When Dell’s eyes widen she looks comically young. “That would be awesome. I was just gonna catch a bus. Try out the whole walk of shame all the way across the city.”

Mike would have never let her do that. Not ever. This thing, whatever they are or will become, is of unknown quantity but it is quality and he’ll be damned if he screws it up. He puts his fork down and circles the counter. She goes easily into his arms and tastes like coffee when he thanks her properly for breakfast. Lifting his mouth, he nuzzles against her cheek with his nose. She melts even more. “Does this mean you have some extra time? I can drive you to class too. I could just wait while you clean up at your place. Bond with your roommate.”

Dell nips at his earlobe. “What do you have in mind for this extra time?”

Mike’s brain goes haywire with all the things he wants to do with Dell. The hot tub. The shower. From behind against the full length mirrors in his room. Bent over right here. As satisfyingly battered as his body feels this morning though, she’s sure to be sore as well. He picks her up easily, getting her ass on the edge of the counter, before he whispers, “I haven’t been inside you standing up yet. I think that needs to be rectified.”

In his arms, her hot core pressed against the already warm skin of his torso, Dell quakes and moans. Oh yeah. Never giving her up.

They end up in the bedroom, eventually, sweaty again and out of breath. Dell is curled easily into his side, her left hand playfully intertwining with his right. She pulls their joined fingers close and kisses his knuckles. “I really like your tattoos. That had to hurt like a mother fucker but it’s beautiful.”

He thinks about getting his hands done. It’d certainly been the worst spot. That and right under the inside of his bicep. “You get used to it. The endorphins make everything all numb and floaty. It’s kinda cool.” Numb and floaty, eh? He’s a goddamn poet.

“Makes sense. I’m terrified of needles so I don’t think I’ll be getting anything ever. But yours are so awesome that I would never have to. Just being by you, and your tattoos by proxy, makes me way cooler than everyone else.”

It’s a corny line but it makes Mike crack up and he pulls her in tighter. They nap lightly until Dell’s phone goes off at 9:30, signaling the need to get out of bed. He insists she takes the first shower and resolutely does not watch her. Because that would make them both late.

He pulls up in front of her building in the SUV at ten on the dot. She kisses him hard, leaning across the center console, and tells him she’ll walk to class. Mike wants to pout because driving her to class means almost another half hour of Dell. She won’t allow it though. Instead she kisses him again, even harder, and he kisses back in kind.

“Can I text you later?”

Dell’s eyes light up at his question and he’s flooded with relief. How awkward would it have been if she’d blown him off? Her nod is happy and he gets one last kiss before she’s sliding out of his truck. Mike watches her all the way up the stairs and into the building. When the door finally obscures her from view he drops his head against the seat and takes a long, settling breath.

He is so fucked.

The guys see it on his face the second he hits the ice. He’s only a few minutes late but he is the last one in.

“Greenie got laid last night.” Johnnie’s voice rings out across the rink and immediately his guys are gathering around. They give him some shit, chirp about his scoring ability, and then they finally get down to work.

The problem is that Mike is cashed. After four rounds of mind-blowing sex in twelve hours he’s slow. His shot is off too, just barely sliding across the ice and into empty goals. He hangs his head during a break and Johnnie slides to a stop next to him. “She must have been filthy good, leaving you like this.”

Mike’s first instinct is to tell Johnnie to go fuck himself, and good, because no one is ever allowed to talk about Dell like that. But he grins because Johnnie is harmless and yeah, Dell was good. She had put him through his paces in every way.

When he straightens Johnnie smacks him across his shins. “We’re going out to the Victory tonight. You should bring her along.”

Mike’s face twists. He’d have to share her then and he isn’t sure he wants to subject her to the guys yet. Even the skeleton crew still in DC is enough to scare off the coolest of potential girlfriends.

Potential girlfriend. He likes the way that sounds in his head. “I dunno. We might have other plans tonight.” Subtext: naked and sweaty plans. Dell could have already texted him, wondering about getting together.

“Don’t bitch out. Come on. We’re going to catch the first Channel One game. The bar’s got it set up on all the big screens.” The offer is really fucking tempting. This afternoon, Nicky and Team Sweden are taking on the Russians. It’s gonna be a great match.

“I’ll run it by her and see what she says.” It’s the best he can offer but Johnnie grins and takes it. Practice ends with a whimper and Mike is dead tired. He checks his phone as soon as he’s got his gloves off, hoping Dell has texted him. She hasn’t and he chews on his lower lip while he stares at his screen. He should send her a message ASAP about tonight.

He makes it short and sweet: Hey beautiful. Gangs going out to watch a hockey game tonight. Interested? He blacks out the screen and changes. It’s laughable how often he checks again and again even as he’s walking out to the truck. It’s only been thirty minutes.

Mike entertains the crazy idea of just going over to her place but he honestly has no idea when she’ll be home. She’d mentioned she had meetings this afternoon. It could take a while. He tightens his hands on the steering wheel to keep them off the phone. He’ll just go home.

It smells like her when he walks through his front door and Mike takes a second to just breathe. A smile is flirting at the edge of his lips as he cranks up some tunes and gets the lights. He loves his high-tech loft. Money well spent. Now only if he could get back to work so he could start drawing from his new contract.

This lockout has sucked in an epic way. He’s been lonely, with more than half the team spread across the globe. Not just that but he’s healthy, really healthy, and he feels like this might have been the season. This might have been the time to turn his game around and get back to where he was two years ago. He avoids a lot of the discussions about meetings but he gets updates. Mostly from Nicky. How the Swede knows what’s going on before Mike, he’ll never know. As it is, he’s just pretty much frustrated. And bored.

Dell had cleaned the kitchen before they’d left this morning but she’d left half a pot of coffee. It makes him smile for real. Maybe he’s not so bored now. She’s come at the perfect time.

By five his room is back in some semblance of order and he’s catching up on the web but Dell still hasn’t texted back. Johnnie had said to be at the Victory by seven and it feels like he’s cutting it so short. He breaks down after a twelve minute staring contest with his phone and just calls her.

She picks up on the fourth ring with a grunt of annoyance. “What’s up?”

She sounds nothing like the willing and happy bedmate from the night before and Mike’s brain misfires before he can answer, “Hey. How are you?”

He can hear the sounds of the city in the background and Dell is huffing. She’s gotta be walking somewhere. “I’ve had better afternoons. My advisor tore me a new asshole because of the lack of progress on my dissertation so, yeah. Fucking sucks. How was practice?” Her voice softens for the last question and Mike lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. So she’s not made at him, or upset or anything. Good.

“You did a number on me. I haven’t skated that slow in years. Good job.” He chuckles a bit, expecting to hear her laugh too but she’s silent on the other end. Well, all right. She’s in a bad mood. He gets it. “Did you get my text? Sweden is playing Russia. Well, they’ve already played but this bar we always go to is showing the game again. It’ll be a lot of fun.” He tries not to sound too hopeful. After all, if she declines the bar maybe he can get her back over here.


Dell just huffs again, though. “Mike, I don’t think I can. I got a bit of cold reality chucked at me today.” Oh fuck. No. No no no. Don’t tell me you regret it. Regret us. Not cool, not at all- “I really need to write." Mike breathes deep again and rubs a hand over his face. This girl is heart stopping. "My advisor wants at least one more chapter before the end of finals week, which starts Monday. So I’ve got about eight days to formulate forty pages of semi-intelligent writing. I’m really sorry, dude.”

Mike can’t wait until the day he figures out when and why Dell uses the word dude. So far it’s been with a co-worker and with him, when they’d first met at the Natural History museum. Right now, it feels a lot like that first time and he hates the twisting in his stomach. He swallows down any complaint though, because, really, he’s known her for three days. She’s busy. It’s cool. “Oh, no worries. Just thinking about you is all.”

She does giggle now, a short but sweet sound. “Yeah I was pretty useless in seminar today. Something about how your hands look on my thighs. Just fucking distracted.”

Well, now, that is a good thought. He grins stupidly to himself. “Was that just verbal foreplay?”

“I suppose you’ll have to wait until I see you next to find out. Have fun at the game tonight and send me updates!” Mike just barely gets off a good-bye before she disconnects. She is - so nerve-racking. He’s on an emotional bull ride. He’s sort of okay with that so long as he sees her again. Soon.