Stand and Defend (Lakes Hockey Series Book 4)

“Do you have to be touching it the whole time?” I laugh.

Cam’s hand is firmly planted on the base of the trophy while I grind on his cock. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

The Stanley Cup stares back at me from the nightstand, close enough to see my reflection in the silver.

“You’re lucky it’s this far away. It’d be in bed with us, except I promised Barrett I wouldn’t do anything sexual with it since his kid’s gonna be eating cereal out of it next week.”All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“Ew! Stop touching it, then!”

“No. You know how you had your nipples pierced because it was on your bucket list?”

I nod.

“Well, I’ve imagined fucking a pretty girl while holding the Stanley Cup since I was twelve. Let me have my moment.” I smile and lean back to give a better show of my piercings as I slide up and down his length. “Fuuuuck. Just like that . . .”

He runs his free hand over them and plucks them with enough pressure to make a chill run up my spine. His hand skates from my breasts up to my throat, and I lean into his palm as I grind harder. God, you can take me whenever. I’ve served my purpose for you, Lord.

He pinches and growls the dirtiest things while I work my way to my orgasm. Kneeling above him, he pulls out, sliding his ladder up and down my clit, bringing me right to the edge.

“Come with me,” I rasp.

He thrusts again, and I detonate, pulsing around him as he spills inside me. He smirks as we finish together—still, with his hand on the Stanley Cup. I roll my eyes and laugh as we collapse into a heap under the covers.

“Congratulations on not letting go the whole time.” I heave breaths as he dots kisses across the top of my back.

“It was really hard at the end there, I wanted to tear into that tight pussy.”

He brings both arms around me in a bear hug before slipping out of bed. The sound of our oversized soaking tub filling up makes me grin. I doze in and out of consciousness, blissfully relaxed.

Minutes later, he gathers me up and carries me to the en suite bathroom. The scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus surrounds me, giving our already luxurious bathroom a spa-like ambiance. He’s set out sea sponges and bath oils and has even lit a few candles. It’s romantic. I’m surprised he didn’t bring Sir Stanley.

He perches me on the edge of the tub, with my feet submerged as I acclimate to the temperature. Cam sinks into the water first and brackets my waist with his large hands, dragging me into the bath. Tattooed arms cross over my front as he hugs my body close to his chest. My eyelids become heavy as I’m cradled in the warm water, and I sigh, totally at peace.

One of the candles crackles with a wooden wick. He dips a sponge in the water and wrings it out over my bare shoulders while his lips trail up and down my neck. His touch traces the tattoo on my thigh that matches the one on his chest, and I thread my fingers with his.

“I want to give you something.”

My relaxed smile tips up. “Another orgasm?”

“No.”

He reaches behind a stack of towels and produces a box. A ring box. With an arm on each side of me, he holds the small lush case in front of me, turning it in his hands. My breath catches in my throat. I’m too stunned to speak.

“I never thought I’d ask a woman to marry me. I never imagined I’d find someone who could make me feel something beyond physical attraction. I thought that being in love would feel like infatuation. Those heart-pumping, brain-scrambling, intense feelings of need. All the time. But it’s the opposite. Love is calm—it’s tranquil. It’s a feeling of mutual connectedness whether I’m thousands of miles away or in the same room. It’s companionship and friendship and understanding.”

It’s as if he pulled the thoughts from my own head. Camden’s love is comfort and warmth and joy. And steadfast, despite our proximity or the situation we’re in. He opens the box, and my jaw drops, instantly my palm finds my chest. I’m in awe. The diamond fire sparkles in the candlelight. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. Absolutely breathtaking. It’s simple, elegant, and exactly my style.

“Marry me, Jordan. Let me love you more every day.”

The memory of Cam and I meeting in the coffee shop plays in my head when he took off the old one. Little did I know that our meeting that day would lead to him sliding on his own. The previous ring felt like a collar, but this feels like a promise. And that’s the best thing about Cam. He encourages me to live my life however I want. I want to live it with him.

I bite my lip and spin in his arms.

“Yes.”

His eyes sparkle almost as much as the ring that he places on my finger, which fits perfectly. He cups my chin and leans forward, parting my lips and sweeping his tongue over mine with a smile. I grip his shoulders, and he drags me into his lap, letting me straddle his thighs.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

I will love this man forever.