Oops! I'm Living With The Hockey Captain

Overtime Rules

I sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing down his oversized T-shirt, which had stretched out from him tugging on it earlier.

The second I heard the shower running, my heart started pounding even harder.

Drake’s teasing threat had my brain completely flustered.

“‘You won’t be able to run away tonight, Murphy,’” I whispered to myself under my breath, mocking his dangerously deep tone.

Ten minutes later, the bathroom door swung open. A cloud of warm steam infused with the scent of fresh soap and mint drifted into the bedroom.

Drake strolled out like it was nothing, wearing low-slung black sweatpants resting on his hips. A small white towel was draped loosely around his neck, with stray water droplets still trickling down the cut contours of his chest.

“Still staring, Rose?” he asked, his raspy voice snapping me out of my daze.

I immediately snapped my eyes down to the bedsheets. “Who’s staring? I was just making sure you didn’t track water onto the rug.”

Drake let out a low chuckle. He tossed his towel onto a chair and started toward the bed with slow, deliberate strides. “You’re such a terrible liar. This is our room, what’s the big deal?”

“I’m serious, Drake!” I instinctively backed up until my spine hit the wooden headboard as his massive frame began crawling onto the mattress. “You said you were exhausted and wanted to sleep!”

“I am tired,” Drake said smoothly.

He slid under the covers, and in one swift, effortless motion, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me down until I collapsed flat against his bare chest.

“Drake!” I gasped, holding my breath as the clean scent of fresh soap washed over me.

"Stay still for a second, Rose," he whispered softly, his strong arms locking around my back and holding me tight. "Let me recharge first. Being away from you all day, plus that brutal practice, I'm totally drained."

I let out a resigned sigh, resting my cheek against his warm chest. His steady, rhythmic heartbeat sounded ridiculously soothing against my ear.

“Was practice really that brutal?”

“Coach is losing his mind,” Drake muttered, his fingers threading through my hair, gently stroking my head. “He knows NHL scouts are going to be in the stands for the semifinals next week. He’s pushing everyone to their absolute limit.”

I tilted my head up slightly, looking up at his sharp jawline. “Are you nervous?”

Drake looked down, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. “A Morvane never gets nervous on the ice, Murphy.”

“So arrogant,” I teased, giving his chest a playful nudge. “Mr. Handsome, tone it down a little.”

“Although…” Drake trailed off, his thumb sliding up to trace my lower lip with agonizing slowness. “I did lose focus for a second during the second period.”

“Why? Was there a problem with the play call?”

“No,” Drake whispered, his gaze darkening as he stared at my lips. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about that brown-haired guy in your art class.”

I stared at him in utter disbelief. “Julian? You’re still brooding over Julian?!”

“Any guy who looks at my girl like that automatically becomes my problem, Rose,” he replied coldly, a heavy dose of pure possessiveness lacing his tone.

"He’s literally just a classmate, Drake! We just talk about our Art History exams!" I protested, trying to sit up, but his arm around my waist locked me in place even tighter.

“I don’t care,” Drake cut in flatly. “Starting tomorrow, I’m dropping you off and picking you up from that studio myself.”

He pulled me even closer against him, his fingers lazily tracing the sensitive line of my neck. I squirmed in his grip, glaring up at him in complete exasperation.

“You have practice, Captain! You can’t just follow me around like a personal bodyguard!”

Drake shifted back slightly just enough to look me dead in the eyes.

“I can manage my own time, Rose,” he whispered, leaning in until the tips of our noses brushed. “Unless… you’d rather I stand in the back of your studio for the full three hours?”

“You’re insane! My professor would probably have a heart attack!” I gasped, half-amused and half-ready to pull my hair out. “A massive polar bear looming in an art class, what? Do you want to be our live model or something?”

Drake let out a genuine, rumbling laugh, reaching up to playfully pinch my cheek. “First I’m a penguin, now I’m a polar bear.”

“Because you’re exhausting.”

“Not the point, babe.”

“Seriously, Drake, stop calling me that.”

His laughter faded, his gaze turning soft and intensely focused on me.

“So just go with it,” Drake whispered, his tone dropping an octave.

His lips grazed the corner of mine, a touch so light and fleeting it made my breath hitch in my throat. “One more word of protest, and I’m enforcing our new rule.”

I held my breath, staring into his demanding blue eyes. “Which rule would that be?”

“The one about asking for permission, I'm still keeping that as a permanent rule,” Drake murmured right against my lips, his voice thick with raw, unadulterated heat.

“May the Captain kiss you until you forget that classmate’s name, Rose?”

I bit my lower lip, trying and failing to hold back the smile tugging at my mouth.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll persuade you…” Drake murmured, leaning down to lightly nip at the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of electric shivers down my spine, “…until you say yes.”

“Mmm, Drake…” He's start driving me crazy.

“Let me, Rose.”

“Drake… you’re unbelievable…” I sighed in complete surrender, my fingers sliding up to tangle into his damp hair, closing the agonizing last sliver of distance between us.

“Permission granted, Morvane. Kiss me already.”