Daphne walked the halls of Wells Fargo Center with a cocky grin on her face. She couldn’t help it, she was proud of herself, dammit, and she refused to be humble about it. A month ago she had abruptly quit her job with the Penguins, a foolish move she was told by pretty much everyone. That is, however, only until she received a call from the Flyers the very next day practically begging her to come work for them. She happily accepted, packing her bags and moving back to Philly within twenty-four hours.

It felt good not only to have a new position with a team she loved, but also to move on from Pittsburgh and all the memories the town now held for her. Well, really just one memory. The one with her on her back underneath Kris Letang, moaning as he thrust into her and panting his name like a fool.

A vision of this moment hit her like a hammer to the head and as she neared her office, she almost stumbled in her heels. It was simultaneously the best and worst moment of her life. While it was the most amazing sex she had ever had, it was with someone she loathed, a man who had no respect for her specifically or women at large. When she thought of this moment her pussy ached at the loss and her mind cringed at the fact that she had been so shameless as to fuck the man who had driven her to quit her job.

She tried to push this all aside as she entered her office and luckily a massive bouquet of roses on her desk was a helpful distraction. She sat in her chair, smiling wide. There were at least two dozen bright red roses crammed into the vase that seemed to have chosen specifically because it was slightly too small and therefore made the flowers appear even more bursting with life and volume.

Before she even looked at the card she smelled them, cupping the blossoms with both hands and bunching them together under her nose. There were really only a handful of people they could be from, her mother, her brother, or perhaps her dear friend Cadence. She grabbed the card, still smiling, but as she read it, her face fell.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, I know you wish I was dead, but I’m still so proud of you. - K”

She slammed the card face down on her desk as she huffed in frustration. Of course the flowers were from Letang, because they arrived at the moment she had just resolved to never think of him and their tryst ever again. To be fair, this was probably the hundredth time she had made that resolve, but that’s another matter entirely. She picked up the card and read it again.

She hated him even more for the rhyme, because in spite of herself…she was impressed by it. And that just wouldn’t do. She threw the card in the trash and then sat there staring at it. What an awful, horrid man, she thought. What an absolute asshole. What a pompous, selfish bastard who…

“Knock, knock. You ready for me?”

Daphne looked up at Claude Giroux’s smiling face in her doorway and returned the expression. “Yes, please come in.”

When he turned to close the door, she nabbed the card from the trash can and shoved it in her desk drawer. Then, she moved the flowers to one side of her desk so they weren’t between her and Giroux.

He sat down and nodded at the bouquet. “Are you going to forgive him?”

Daphne looked aghast and choked out, “Excuse me?” How could Giroux know? No one knew.

Claude smiled. “I know an apology when I see one. A dozen roses says ‘I love you’ but two dozen or more says ‘I know I fucked up and I’m sorry.’ So…you going to forgive him?”

Daphne took a breath. Of course he didn’t know, not really. She answered before she even thought about it. “I don’t really know if I will. I’m…not even sure…” She cut herself off. “Regardless, let’s talk about the Twitter Q&A. I’ve got some ground rules we should go over before tomorrow.”

After her meeting with Giroux, a slew of other players cycled through her office, each asking about the flowers, all wondering out loud if she planned to forgive the sender his crimes against her. Men, she thought, this must be part of the universal masculine code of behavior that they recognized on sight. It stopped being amusing after about the third time and she eventually put the flowers in her coat closet.

When she went to go home that night, she was faced with the roses again. Grabbing the vase at the base and tucking it in the crook of her arm, she opened her desk and hauled out the card, reading it again as if she had forgotten what it said, even though she had not. She didn’t want to think about forgiveness; she didn’t want to think about him at all. And yet, she did. All the time.

What seemed to irritate her the most was the fact that after she called him a sexist asshole he hadn't even bother to defend himself. He had just nodded and acquiesced to her insult like there was no point in refuting it. She felt there was nothing he could say in defense of himself, but it bothered her that he thought so, too.

At home, the flowers went on the breakfast bar and the card went in the trash…for a little while at least. Daphne was lying in bed at around 2 a.m. when she got up and went to pull the card out, embarrassing even herself. She leaned on the counter, staring at the piece of paper that was obsessing her right now. Then she slid down onto the floor, crossing her legs and staring some more.

He had beautiful handwriting, curvy and free-flowing. This, naturally, led to thoughts about his beautiful hands, stroking her skin, probing her depths while his mouth covered her clit. She could spend an entire afternoon under just his hands and be more than satisfied. Lord, how she hated herself for still wanting him, for imaging him making love to her in a million different ways. Mostly she hated how the fantasies could never compare to the reality of Kris. She hated pretty much everything right now.

Her cellphone ringing in her empty, silent house nearly sent her heart flying out of her chest. She scrambled up and grabbed it off the counter, answering without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Daff?”

This could not be happening. She was dreaming. Daphne pinched herself and when she didn’t wake up she asked, “How the hell did you get my number, Kris?”

“Oh, uh…your secretary.”

“What? Why would she give you my personal cellphone number?”

“Well, I sort of know her.”

Daphne sighed. “You fucked my secretary?”

“Long time ago. Anyway, how are you?”

“You’re calling me at two in the morning to ask how I am?”

Kris laughed quietly. “No, not really.”

“Then why?”

Instead of answering he asked, “Did you get the roses?”

Daphne looked at them and an involuntary smile sprang to life on her face. She smothered it before answering, “Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Here, he paused and she waited. “Daphne…” He paused again.

She prompted him softly, “Yes?”

“I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but…I just thought you should know…that I’m truly, honestly so sorry that I said such shitty things to you, admittedly more than once. And that I think about you all the damn time and hope you’re happy. Because you deserve it, to have a good life. I’m a fucking asshole, just like you said, but I’m trying, really trying to be a better man. And apologizing to you feels like the most important way I can do that.”

She should have hung up, because she didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want for him to be human in her mind, to be real. Life was just so much simpler when he was nothing more than the hot asshole she fucked one time in Pittsburgh. Well, maybe not simple since the act constantly replayed in her mind, but still, it was a lot easier to hate him when he wasn’t calling her, apologizing sincerely in that delicately accented voice of his. And she wanted to hate him, felt like she needed to. Because if she didn’t…what would that mean for them?

“Daff? Are you there?”

She cleared her throat. “I am. Thank you, for the flowers and for the apology. Neither were necessary. I have to go. It’s late and we both have to work tomorrow.”

“Daphne.”

“What?”

“You know we’re going to be in Philly next week, right?”

She had seen that on the schedule and had been choosing to ignore the fact for as long as possible. “Yeah, I saw.”

“I’m going to come see you.”

She sounded almost frightened by the prospect. “That’s - no, Kris. Don’t do that.”

“I need to see you, Daff. We need to talk about this.”

“We just did. It’s over.” Even though it was a lie she said, “You and me…that was over the day I left Pittsburgh.”

His voice took on a more commanding tone and Daphne hated how it made her entire body feel warm and responsive. “Nothing is over. I’m coming to see you and I suggest you open the door when I knock.”

She frowned at this veiled threat. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll break the fucking door down.”

She had to smile, because this was the Kris the remembered, this one she could deal with. She was still grinning when she told him, “It’ll be amusing to see you try. Goodnight.” She hung up before he could reply and she still wore a smug smirk when she crawled back into bed.

A week later, true to his word, Kris showed up at her home after morning skate. She didn’t need to wonder how he had gotten her address. She was going to fire her secretary tomorrow, that much she knew. She stood in the vestibule, listening to him knock for a solid minute, wondering if she was really going to let him attempt to kick down the door.

When he stopped knocking for a second, she worried he was actually going to try and she ripped the door open. He smiled back at her. “Smart girl.”

He pushed the door open further, shoving his way in and then closing it behind him. Daphne’s breath was already elevated just seeing him in the flesh and she wished she could disassociate from her traitorous body once and for all.

He stood there staring at her for a moment, wondering how it was possible that she was even more beautiful than he recalled. She was dressed for work: dress pants and a flimsy blouse and the outfit only served to remind him of the first and only time he had claimed her on that desk in Pittsburgh. He swallowed hard and stepped closer.

“I -”

Daphne was cut off by Letang’s mouth on hers. He really had come here to talk, but he was never going to be able to think clearly until they got this out of the way first. Daphne’s body went liquid in his hands and her mouth molded to his as if made for it. Initially she was going along with it out of shock, but a few kisses in, she gave up trying to rationalize this and just surrendered to the pleasure she knew he would give her.

He found a few feet of clear wall space and pressed her up against it. And then he could not get her naked fast enough. However, he also didn’t want to stop kissing her so he would alternate ravishing her mouth and ripping her clothes off.

Her blouse hit the floor and he told her, “I think about this every fucking day.”

He kissed her violently, more pressure than finesse and then he pulled her bra over her head without bothering to unbuckle it. “I can’t even jerk off because it’s nothing compared to you. I can’t look at another woman without seeing all the ways they would never measure up to you.”

Daphne whimpered, but said nothing. How do you even respond to such a wonderful compliment from a man you aren’t supposed to like? His hands were pulling at her pants, his mouth laying another harsh kiss on her lips and she reached for his shirt.

When her pants were undone, she yanked them off as he shed his shirt and then he lifted her up, pressing her naked frame against his torso and kissing her wildly. He let his massive body hold her up and he used both hands to push down his sweatpants. Daphne felt his erection spring free and brush her already dripping cunt. She moaned at just this tiny sensation and met his soulful eyes.

He caressed her cheek with his palm. “Later, I’m going to make very slow, very beautiful love to you. But this…” He paused only long enough to thrust inside her, banging her body against the wall. “This is going to be for old time’s sake. Hard and fast.”

Daphne wiggled down on his cock and smiled. “You know I like it hard, Kris. Fuck me like you’ve been waiting a month for it.”

Letang groaned and went to work; pulling back and forcing his massive cock between her folds until he was as deep as he could possible get. Daphne, for the first time in weeks, no longer felt the mental anguish Kris caused. As if his body soothed it all away. She knew this was not a healthy relationship and certainly it was not good that they were fucking two feet inside her door when they were supposed to be talking, but sometimes, carnal needs just cannot be denied.

And she was just too good, too beautiful, their bodies fit together too well for Kris to be denied. She knew it as well, knew their bodies were perfect for the other when she started to come after only a few thrusts and he sped up even more, driving her over the edge as he came right along with her. Fast and hard, as promised.

He set her down and then did something new: he kissed her delicately and it nearly made Daphne cry. Why, she couldn’t say, but it was tender and sweet and affected her heart in ways it shouldn’t have.

He pulled back and met her eyes. “We should talk now.”

Nodding, Daphne took his hand and let him through the house, up the stairs and into her bedroom. She was still naked and he left his sweatpants on the floor as the climbed into bed. Then he chuckled.

“Do you think this is the best place for a serious discussion?”

Daphne laid on her side and Kris did the same. She smiled and shrugged. “Probably not. But I don’t think there’s much to say.”

Honestly, he had said all she wanted to hear on the phone the other night. He admitted his faults, as well as his desire to be better. He wasn’t perfect, but he was trying. Maybe that was enough. It felt like enough. She had spent the last week wondering why she was trying so hard to hate him when that emotion just didn’t seem to fit anymore.

Kris teased her, “You mean you have nothing to say to me? That’s a first.”

“I mean that you already apologized and I believe that you mean it.”

“I do, Daff. I swear.”

“Then what do you need to hear from me?”

Kris thought about it and inched closer. “Tell me you forgive me. Tell me…you want to make this work with us.”

“I do forgive you. I…” Did she want it work with them? The sex was even more amazing than last time, but just because she didn’t hate him did that mean she wanted to be with him?

Kris sensed her indecision and said, “Tell me who hurt you.”

This took her by surprise. “What?”

“The last time we did this, you seemed…sad. I didn’t ask because I figured you wouldn’t have told me anyway. But I’m asking now. Tell me who hurt you.”

Daphne avoided his gaze and contemplated telling him a lie, telling him he was wrong, but if he was that perceptive, there was no way she could have tricked him. She wasn’t that good of a liar in her personal life, even if her profession called for it at times.

“About a year ago I went through a really bad breakup. He said some things to me…it’s doesn’t really matter. I suppose you reminded me of him and when we were about to have sex…I felt like a shitty person for being with yet another man who could wound me with his words.”

When she looked up, Kris now appeared as though he might cry himself. “So…I hurt you. It was me who made you sad.”

She didn’t want to be cruel, but she told him the truth. “Yes. The things you said and the fact that I still wanted you after you said them…that’s what made me sad.”

This he wasn't sure how to deal with. If she was angry with him, they could fight, but knowing he had caused her pain…that was infinitely more confusing. “Daphne…do you want me to go?”

Very gently, she said, “No.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Then don’t. Kiss me, make love to me like you said you would. I forgave you. And I…want us to make it work.”

“You mean that?”

Surprisingly, yes. “I do. Please, Kris…please.”

It was all he had longed to hear and he felt the smile plastered across his face as he rolled on top of her. “That is the last time I ever want you to beg me for anything.”

Daphne grinned up at him. “Then give me what I want.”

More than happy to do so, he pressed inside her again and watched her sigh as her head lolled back.

“Oh, yes.”

He bent to kiss her neck and started making love to her. It was slow and gentle and just right. The delicate rocking of his body against hers sent her into a orgasm that seemed to last for several full minutes as she gave into the soft waves of pleasure again and again.

She came again and he was still going at his measured pace, stroking and sucking her skin so tenderly it nearly drove her out of her mind. By the time he finished, Daphne was exhausted, but still smiling at him, still imaging all the ways she wanted to have him and loving how now, she finally could.

Notes

1. Things I am working on: Dom!Ekblad, Jonathan Toews in a bookstore requested by a lovely Tumblr mutual of mine, and Jason Demers.
2. I also foolishly started another long fic about Jordie Benn (because I hate myself and love to suffer) and if you care at all to read it, it’s called Fooled Around.
3. I took some stuff off the request list, things that I knew I was probably never going to be inspired to write and others that were more situation based and the time for them has passed.Sorry if your request was deleted, but that list was well out of hand.