A week had passed since I had last seen Jonathan at our double-date breakfast with Sam and Patrick. We had exchanged numbers and texted each other almost everyday, but it definitely wasn’t the same as feeling him next to me, hearing his voice, and seeing his eyes light up. The Blackhawks were about to go on a long road trip, playing four games in six days, and I knew Jon’s time was extremely limited. I tried to focus on other things, but any time I wasn’t actively doing something, my thoughts would drift to that kiss we shared on his balcony.

It was hard to not get caught up in the sexual tension that was palpable ever since then. To try to dispel some of that, I was taking Napoleon on long runs every night after work. It helped to release a little steam, but the biggest benefit was that it was helping me get better acquainted with some of my neighbors. The young girl down the hall, Lauren, had clearly fallen in love with my handsome pooch, and I always made sure to chat with her whenever we ran into each other. I explained to her how I trained Napoleon to walk without pulling on his leash and how we worked on different tricks using positive reinforcement with treats. After a few visits, she offered to “dog-sit” for me anytime I needed.

It was the last game of the extended road trip, the Blackhawks facing off against the Ducks in Anaheim, and Sam had suggested we have a girls’ night at my place to watch the game. We got tons of food, comfy clothes, and plenty of beer before settling in to watch the first puck drop two hours later than the usual central time starts. During the pregame analysis, I asked Sam a question that had been bugging me since I kissed Jonathan.

“Do you think I shouldn’t pursue anything with Jon because he’s technically a client?”

“What? No way! You said you guys met before he came in, right? So, technically, you knew him before he even had an adjustment,” she said while shoving a huge handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“We didn’t really meet Sam. He bumped into me leaving a coffee shop.” I paused to take a drink of my beer. “We didn’t exchange names or numbers, and he kinda ran away after holding the door for me,” I chuckled at the memory of it. Sam shrugged while shaking her head.

“Doesn’t matter. He obviously recognized you when he first came in. According to the book of Sam, you shouldn’t have to worry about repercussions in terms of work,” she said in a deep, loud voice. I couldn’t help but laugh my worries away, at least for now. Besides, the game was about to start.

---

The Anaheim Ducks took the game in a 2-4 victory, the Blackhawks only loss of the extended road trip. It was looking good through the first two periods, the Hawks leading the game with goals from both Toews and Leddy, but the Ducks steam rolled over them with three unanswered goals in the final period. Sam and I were devastated, but there was nothing that could be done now. She gathered up her things, not even wanting to watch the post-game report, and left for her own apartment. An hour after the last buzzer sounded, I received a text from Jon.

‘Did you watch?’

‘Of course. I’m so sorry Jon.’

‘It’s not your fault; don’t apologize. I was wondering if I could see you when we get back.’ It was already pretty late. They must be getting back early in the morning.

‘Yeah, just call me. I’ll be at my place.’

‘Thanks Gi, see you soon.’

Man, what am I gonna do for the next four hours?

---

I tried everything to stay awake. Coffee, sugar, Zumba, solitaire, but nothing worked for long. I woke up sitting on the floor with my back against the couch to my phone ringing. I quickly swiped it from the coffee table to answer.

“Hey, I’m awake,” I said quickly. I heard Jon chuckle before answering.

“I’m sorry to keep you up like this. I’m outside the building.”

“I’ll be right down.” I met him at the front door, and I felt like my heart was breaking looking at his down trodden face. I immediately ran to him, wanting to comfort the captain who felt like he’d let his team down. We held each other tightly, his bag fallen to the ground without care.

“I just really wanted to see you,” he whispered into my ear. My hands moved up and down his suit-clad back to try to bring him some consolation.

“I’m glad that you did. Let’s get you upstairs.” I took his left hand while his right grabbed his bag, and we made our way up the steps. Napoleon didn’t even wake up when we came into my apartment; he was exhausted from trying to keep up with me earlier in the evening. I didn’t let go of Jonathan’s hand, leading him into my bedroom. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“You need some rest. Go ahead and get changed in my bathroom,” I gestured towards my private bath and tried to push him forward, but the big hockey player didn’t even move from my shove. He looked into my eyes for a while, trying to find an answer to some question he had, but then he nodded and went in with his bag. Once I heard water running from the sink, I started to pull back the covers on my bed.

Jon came out with some basketball shorts on, slung low on his hips to show the elastic band of his boxers. He looked different, and I couldn’t figure out why until he was closer. The look in his eyes had changed from one of sadness to one of hunger. And not in the “man, I could really go for a cheeseburger,” way. I gulped loudly after my realization and sat down on the foot of the bed.

He walked right up to me, his large legs straddling mine, and I had to look straight up to maintain eye contact. He reached out to cup my cheek with his palm, and it felt like his fingers were searing my skin. Immediately, I wanted to feel more of that fire. I pulled that hand down so that it was sitting flat next to me on the bed, forcing Jonathan to have either hand by my side to keep his balance. I, too, had to adjust by leaning back on my hands. I got what I wanted though, having his face level with mine.

After a few seconds of staring, both of us breathing more rapidly, our lips slowly met, but it wasn’t slow for long. Jon kept leaning forward, trying to get me to lay down, and with his kisses melting what little resistance I had, I found myself on my back looking up at him towering over me.

“You’re just what I need,” I heard him say. It was so quiet that I thought I might’ve imagined it, but he gave me a toothy smile and confirmed that I wasn’t hallucinating. He kissed me, hard, sinking my head into the mattress from the force. I gripped the hair on the back of his head, keeping our lips together by not letting him move his head away. I don’t think he planned on moving anyway, but I wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once and yet never where I wanted them. I noticed one of his legs had parted mine after I absent-mindedly rubbed up against his knee, trying to get some relief from the ache that had started to build. He growled at my movements and pushed his knee, and consequently me, a little higher up the bed. I couldn’t help but let out a moan at the pressure.

“Oh, God, Jon.” The words were out of my mouth before my brain told me to be embarrassed by them. I heard him gasp out a large breath beside my head, his lips suddenly detached from my neck where he had been working.

“If you want me to stop, you need to tell me now, or I won’t be able to if we keep this up.” His voice was low and strained. Did I want him to stop? Of course not. But did I really want us to go through all of this so quickly? Not really.

“I just… I, uhh… maybe just…” I trailed off, my thoughts not reaching my lips in full sentences. I grabbed his hand and started to trace it down my side, on top of one of my thighs, and then I let go, unable to make my wants fully known. He understood though.

Jon’s fingers were up and over my pajama pants before I was able to worry if he got what I was trying to tell him. He quickly slid them off, leaving me in my underwear and moving them out of his way. One finger went inside me and I squirmed, wanting more. His mouth was again at my neck when another finger joined the first, moving around and pumping. I started to try to match the rhythm and pace he set, my body moving from instinct. I was panting, wanting more, feeling the build-up, and desperately hoping for release when his thumb started to work me. I was seeing stars and my body went limp as I cried out from my climax. Jon smothered the noise with his own mouth on mine, giving me soft kisses while I came back to my body and my senses.

I had kept my hands on the back of his head or his shoulders so I could have something to grip, and now I wanted to reciprocate. I skimmed both hands down his bare sides to his stomach, resting them just above the waistband on his boxers. His breathing became shallow, and he couldn’t concentrate enough to even kiss me. Jon’s eyes were screwed shut, his body only letting him focus on my touch.

“Lay down,” I whispered, and his did as I asked. I slowly worked his shorts off and tossed them off the bed, leaving him in just his boxers. My teasingly slow work brought him back to consciousness, and he opened his eyes to watch me. I slid one finger under the band, moving it back and forth, and he groaned from impatience. Finally, I worked his boxers off, and I couldn’t help but stare for a second or two. His body looked like it was sculpted from stone, all solid muscle.

I reached for him, wrapping one hand around him, moving up and down slowly. I brought my thumb up and over the tip, moving the bead of liquid that had formed there over the head. Jon’s eyes closed again, and he tried to stifle a moan. I took that moment to place my mouth over him and moved down his shaft. The touch of my lips caused him to gasp, and I couldn’t help but smile, even with my mouth around him.

I worked him up and down, tongue flicking the top whenever I was there. He tried to grab my hair to gain some control, but I swatted his hand away. I wanted him to just feel, and I definitely wanted him to remember this. I placed one hand at the base of his shaft and had it follow my mouth on its path, twisting in a light, circular motion every so often. Jonathan had become tense and started to slightly shake.

“Gianna, you’re gonna need to… It’s gonna…” I waved him off, unable to actually give a verbal response. I knew what he meant. Jon reached his released, and I kept working him, not bothering to stop. Finally, he was done, and I discreetly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand while Jon was trying to recover his senses. After a few deep breaths, he motioned for me to come close to him, and I did.

“Thank you, Gi.” He was still breathing heavily, and he tucked me into his side. I curled up next to him, throwing a leg over his. We were both a little sweaty from all the activity, but I couldn’t have cared less at this moment.

“Well, thank you, too. And, I appreciate the detoured route we took, by the way.”

“Of course. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for,” he said while looking down at me with concern in his eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Truthfully, I’m ready, but I’m not ready to miss it all developing. I kinda hope to drag out this sexual tension for as long as possible.” He pulled me tight against his chest, and tried to tickle me.

“What?! Are you trying to kill me during hockey season?” He dug his fingers into my sides while trying to keep my hands at bay.

“Haaha… No! I… Stop, Jon!” I gasped through laughter, trying to get him to stop before I kneed him in the stomach unintentionally. He finally stopped his attack, pulling me close to his body again.

“Okay, I believe you. So what do I have to do to get us to the next level,” he asked. With my head on his chest, I could hear his rapid heart beat.

“Well, maybe if you get some time, we could go on a real date? I don’t think our breakfast with Pat and Sam really counts.” I was nervous to ask him to take me out. What if he didn’t really want a commitment right now? What if this was just supposed to be something fun and unattached? I needed to figure out where this could lead before I fell too hard over someone who had no interest in a relationship.

“Yeah, definitely. We have a few days off, and then we start up with a streak of home games, so maybe a day-date on a weekend would work well.” I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding in and gave him a huge grin.

“Pinky promise?” I held out my pinky finger towards him. He smiled down at me and linked his littlest finger with mine.

“Yeah, pinky promise.”

Notes