There was something to be said about the restraint I had over the following week.

Despite our busy schedules, Seb and I still managed to find a few hours to see each other. He'd dropped in to Apollo's twice after practice, and after he returned from a short road trip, we'd managed to squeeze in a cinema date Friday afternoon before I was scheduled to work.

But we were never alone.

Every time Seb kissed me, whether it was just a peck hello or a proper goodbye, I was brought back to that night on his sofa. The desire I'd felt then always bubbled to the surface, burning through my blood with nowhere to go, and it was frustrating beyond belief. There were plenty of nights where I laid in bed, alone and unable to fall asleep, wanting nothing more than to call him to come over, but I could never find the right words.

On Saturday, however, those concerns were shuffled to the back of my mind.

"So?" Aimee quirked a brow in the mirror, running her hands over the skirt of the dress. "What do you guys think?"

"You look gorgeous."

Mrs. Fournier sniffled, nodding in agreement as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Oh, my baby." Turning to face us, Aimee chewed on her bottom lip, containing the grin threatening to escape. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"I do, don't I?" Aimee asked, laughing joyfully as she turned back towards the mirror. Hands on her hips as she admired the dress, she couldn't stop smiling. "I think this is the one."

After sitting in a downtown bridal boutique for more than three hours with Aimee's mom, I couldn't agree more. We'd watched her parade in and out of the dressing room in countless styles, but none of them had elicited the same reaction this dress did. Strapless with a lace overlay, it hugged her figure tightly before flaring out beneath her hips. It wasn't too simple and wasn't over the top, falling somewhere in the middle, and perfect for Aimee's big day.

"I still can't believe you're getting married," Mrs. Fournier said, shaking her head in disbelief as Aimee retreated behind the curtains to change.

"I mean, with Jack we all knew it was only a matter of time," I pointed out.

She nodded, her mouth curving upwards. "Ever since that first night Aimee brought him home, I knew he was the one."

"Really?" Aimee asked, poking her head out between the curtains. "Because all I remember about that night is the hours you and dad spent grilling him. I thought he'd never want to see me again."

"I remember that," I mused. "You wouldn't let me leave the apartment all weekend because you were worried the next time your phone rang, Jack was going to be on the line wanting to call things off."

"I may have been a bit too on edge about it," Aimee admitted, slinking out of sight to get dressed while continuing to speak, "but if you'd been at dinner, you would've known how bad it was." Stepping out of the dressing room, she playfully narrowed her gaze, looking straight at her mom. "I definitely remember dad asking him how he expected to make a life out of hockey, and you wanting to know how he made time for me while he was traveling across the country every week."

"We had to make sure he was good enough for our little girl," her mom replied in defense. "Besides," she continued, pausing for a moment as she got choked up, "he passed the test with flying colors. He didn't cower from our questions, and he's stood by your side—allowing you to grow, but never holding you back. He's been there for you when your father and I couldn't, and most importantly, he's always made you smile. There's not much more I could ask for, as a parent, other than to see my daughter happy."

Crossing the room, Aimee wrapped her arms around her mom. "I love you, mom."

Mrs. Fournier let her eyes fall shut, keeping her arms wrapped securely around her daughter and making me feel as though I was intruding on a private moment.

"I love you too, dear," she replied softly, taking a step back before hooking her arm through her daughter's. "Now how about we order that dress so we can make the cake testing appointment."

I grabbed Aimee's dress and made my way towards the payment counter behind the two of them. "Even though we all know she's going to pick some kind of chocolate cake."

"Hey," Aimee said, glancing over her shoulder, "you don't know that for sure."

Her mom patted her on the shoulder, grinning. "Oh honey, we've known you long enough to say we do."

***

To nobody's surprise, Aimee ended up loving the chocolate cake. Chocolate cake with banana cream to be exact. And though she didn't place her order then and there, instead asking for a slice to take away and get Jack's approval on, it wasn't hard to imagine her calling the bakery the minute Jack gave his okay to order a three-tiered masterpiece.

And with the end of the tasting came the end of our day out. Before the traffic got heavy, Mrs. Fournier began her journey home to Rhode Island, and as per her request, I dropped Aimee off at Jack's place for the night on my way back to our apartment.

Which left me with some alone time to focus on my designs.

After completing the finishing touches on a sheer, grey bodysuit, I found myself sitting cross-legged amongst a pile of fabric, sketching out an idea that was floating around the front of my mind. The details were sparse and the overall idea was messy, but that's what I loved about it. That something so abstract could eventually become a delicate piece of lingerie.

I was deep in the zone when the buzzer for the apartment sounded, breaking my concentration and sparking my curiosity. Pushing my sketchbook aside, I headed out of my room and towards the door, pressing the button to communicate downstairs.

"Who is it?"

"It's Seb."

His voice crackled through the speaker, but still managed to light a spark in my chest. Speechless, I didn't need to think before buzzing him in.

"Hey," I said as I spotted him down the hall. "I thought you had a call with Henry this afternoon."

"I did," he replied as I stepped aside, motioning him in before letting the door swing shut, "but we finished up early and I wanted to see you." A smile pulled at my lips. "I called to see if you wanted to grab something to eat, but when you didn't answer, I figured I'd give it a shot and drop by."

"Shit, sorry. I've had my phone on silent all day and didn't think to turn the sound back on."

"No worries." He chuckled, bringing a hand out from behind his back to reveal a bag from the popular Indian restaurant around the corner. "But any chance you're feeling hungry?"

I smiled, leaning forwards to give him a kiss. "Always."

***

"So, how did today go?" Seb asked after we'd finished eating and had moved to the sofa. "Did Aimee end up finding a dress?"

"She did actually," I replied, turning in his arms with a grin. "Though I think I'm pretty much sworn to secrecy as to what it looks like."

"Fair."

"What about you, how was your meeting?"

"It was okay. Just a regular check-in before the holidays get underway," he explained and I nodded. "Though speaking of the holidays," he continued after a short pause, clearing his throat, "I never asked what your plans are." His fingers traced a gentle pattern against my arm. "Are you heading back to your parent's place?"

"Yeah, that's the plan at least. Apollo's is closed from the twenty-fourth to the twenty-sixth, but I booked a few extra days off, so I'll probably end up driving out sometime late next week."

"That'll be nice—to have some time to relax with your family," he said, reaching forwards to push a few stray pieces of hair out of my face. "Though I can't say I don't wish you were sticking around."

I leant into his touch, realizing that this time of year couldn't be easy for him. "And you?" I asked softly. "Will you be celebrating with your brother?"

"And the hockey team." Not allowing his thoughts to take a turn for the worse, a light chuckle escaped his lips. "Isla's parents are visiting for a few days, so I'll be heading there on Christmas Day, but besides that, there won't be anything out of the ordinary. There's not much of a break in the hockey season, so I've still got a few practices and a game lined up."

"Well, just know I'll be cheering you on from the comfort of my parent's living room."

"Then I guess I'll have to bring out my A-game."

Lifting my hands, I placed them against his chest and smiled. "You always do—that's just who you are."

A mix of affection and desire flared in Seb's eyes, drawing me in. For a moment, the space between us lingered—long enough for him to recognize the yearning that was surely written plain across my face. Our breaths mingled in the air, falling in identical, steady rhythms, and then in an instant, the space was gone, leaving a kiss in its midst.

There was no teasing. No hesitancy. With our lips pressed firmly against each other, his fingers tunneled through my hair and I slid a leg over his thighs, straddling him and pulling him closer. Our tongues danced with a sense of familiarity, matching each other stroke for stroke, and while Seb took the lead, I was right there with him.

Feeling his hardness beneath me, growing with each second that passed, I circled my hips in desperate a move, needing the friction. Repeating the motion, I was rewarded with a growl, causing my lips to tilt upward as I did it again and again.

"Minx," he mumbled, not wasting any time in snaking a hand underneath my shirt, pulling the lace of my bra down to palm my breast.

It was inevitable, what happened next, but there was no coyness as I pulled back, my hands falling to his shoulders. "Bedroom," I said breathlessly, barely managing to get the word out as a gasp of pleasure escaped me when Seb continued his assault, trailing kisses down the exposed skin of my neck.

Tightening my grip, it was moments later when Seb finally lifted his head, his gaze boring into mine. "You sure?"

With no room for skepticism, I nodded, cupping his cheeks and pulling his lips back to mine.

Grateful moan aside, Seb dropped his hands to my thighs for support. Leaning forwards, he stood, lifting me with him while urging my legs to wrap tightly around his waist.

"Which door?" he mumbled.

"On your left."

In a few quick strides, we reached my bedroom, and despite the mess I knew was still there—fabric strewn across the desk and over the floor, my sketches not at all cleaned up—I couldn't seem to care. My mind was overdriven with lust and every thought revolved around Seb.

Kicking the door closed and leaving the light off, Seb carried me to the bed, our lips parting only as he laid me down and took a step back. With a sliver of moonlight filling the room, I watched with eager eyes as Seb unbuckled his belt with skilled movements, his gaze locked with mine as he pulled it free and let it fall. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he lifted his shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the ground and giving me a glorious view of his chest as he inched carefully up the mattress until his body covered mine.

The air was charged and heavy, anticipation flaring wildly as I held my breath for just one moment before Seb's mouth claimed mine.

I shivered immediately, and Seb's hum of approval vibrated against my lips. His kiss was different than just moments ago, now alternating between soft and demanding, working me over slowly. Hands crawling back underneath my shirt, he lifted it off, and this time when his eyes fell to my bra, there was more hunger than awe. In seconds, it too was gone and he dropped his head to kiss along my neck—his beard tickling my skin. It was that sensation that had me squirming underneath him, but when his roughened palm smoothed over my breast, I had to bite my lip to contain a moan.

Item by item, our clothes were shed, each of us teasing reactions out of the other. But it was only when my shaky hands finally slid under the elastic of his tight boxer briefs that all restraint was lost. Wrapping my fingers around him, I stroked him once—slowly and experimentally. When I repeated the action, squeezing harder and trailing my thumb across the tip, he hissed with pleasure.

"This is going to be over sooner rather than later if you keep that up."

Not wanting that, I moved my hands to slide the material down his thighs, and he helped by pulling them the rest of the way off. Leaning down to grab his wallet from his discarded jeans, he pulled out a small foil packet, tossing it onto the bed beside me.

"Came prepared, did you?"

He grinned, leaning over me. "How about we call it hopeful?" he offered, pecking my lips once before trailing a line of kisses across my skin.

Down my collarbone. Over my breasts. Hovering in the spots that sparked a reaction. He moved lower and lower, working me slowly into a frenzy as he drew closer to where I needed him to be. A whimper left my lips as his tongue swept wickedly across my hips, and as his fingers hooked into the sides of my thong, pulling it down, his eyes flickered up to meet mine.

Desire flared, and the next moment his mouth was on me, his tongue moving in slow circles to draw a long moan from my lips that couldn't be contained. My hands fell to the sheets, grasping tightly as my hips arched to meet his mouth, seeking and wanting more. And Seb obliged. Adding his fingers, he built up a steady rhythm, causing heat to coil tightly in my lower abdomen. It was like he knew my body—knew what made it sing—and soon enough I was hovering at the edge of a cliff. Gasping and writhing, all it took to toss me over was to feel him groan against my slick skin, laying his tongue flat and continuing his assault even after I closed my eyes and sighed in ecstasy.

Coming down from the high and breathing heavily, Seb finally let up, kneeling back and licking his lips as he reached for the condom. In a flurry of movements, he tore open the package, slid it on, and climbed up the bed so he was hovering me once more. Dropping his lips to meet my own, the kiss turned molten within seconds. His hands slid up over my curves and down my arms, leaving a trail of heat as they moved to intertwine with my own.

When he pulled back, eyes locked on mine, he lined up our hips so he was right at my entrance, teasing slowly.

"You ready?"

I nodded jerkily in response, unable to find the words.

Lifting my hands to his mouth, he kissed them both gently before pinning them down to the mattress on either side of my head. My eyes widened in surprise, watching him grit his teeth, and hold himself back as he carefully pushed forward.

"Fuck," he bit out as he slowly slid inside. "Jo, fuck... so good."

The sound of my name on his lips caused me to inhale sharply, and then moan as he pulled back and thrust forward again. I saw the concentration in his gaze as he tried to start out slow, sliding in and out to get me accustomed to his size, but before long, the two of us were both struggling with control.

His lips returned to my own with raw passion, pulling and stroking, and I couldn't hold back any longer. As his thrusts built up power, my hips rocked against his, figuring out what worked with each unyielding movement. Noises filled the room, escaping both of us in the heat of the moment, and I couldn't find it in me to be embarrassed. It was blissful and mind-blowing, each stroke seemingly going deeper, hitting sweet spots I'd never known existed.

It had never been like this, so all-consuming, and as I hurtled straight for the edge again, my body shuddering with release seconds before his, I couldn't imagine it ever being any better.