Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“I don’t know how you do it,” I told him. “The puck is basically microscopic, and it’s sliding all over the ice at a million miles an hour. You skate like you’re all graceful one moment, then you’re up in a guy’s face the next. My jaw was on the floor, Jesse.”
“You actually liked it,” he said, sounding amazed. A satisfied expression landed on his face for the first time since leaving the locker room. “You enjoyed watching hockey?”
“I enjoyed watching you.”
He led me down a short hallway and opened a door, leading me inside.
It was a small supply closet, with one shaded window at the back and racks of rink maintenance supplies along one wall. The air was quiet and still, and faintly smelled like a fresh lemon-scented cleaner.
He did a quick check of the room, looking it over it like he was making sure nobody else was inside before reaching behind me and shoving a giant box in front of the door.
“No lock. This’ll have to do.”
“Holy fuck,” I whispered.
He slowly used his bulk to back me up to the wall, inch by inch, until my back hit the cool concrete.
He pinned me up against it, the warm front of his body connecting with mine as one hand came down onto the wall beside me.
He was so close. All heat and muscle. I was reminded of our slight size difference—I wasn’t exactly a weakling, but Jesse worked out like it was a full-time job, and even an inch or two of height over me was enough to notice.
His lips were on mine again in another rough kiss and I opened to him, letting his tongue inside. I was seeing a part of him I hadn’t experienced before—a quiet rage that came out as a possessive, almost animalistic urge. Maybe it was because he lost the game, or maybe he was mad that I’d been there to see it.
If this is how you take out your post-game anger… then I’m your number one fan.
Hazy colors filled my peripheral vision. I saw his tattooed arm coming up against the wall beside me, positioned near the edge of my face. My cock ached, shoved up against the front of my jeans in the same almost pained way it was on our first night together.
Whether he tried to or not, he wore his heart on his sleeve, and right now he was eyeing me like a hungry animal.
If this was my one shot, I was going to take it.
“I liked knowing you were in the crowd,” he said, looking me over before trailing downward with his lips, kissing against my neck and then my collarbone. “But you can’t come to any more games.”
“What?” I protested, which turned into a low moan as he licked against my collarbone.
“You distract the fuck out of me.”
“No I don’t. You were totally focused on the puck. How was I distracting you?”
“I was thinking about your lips,” he said, leaning back to look in my eyes for a moment. “How your lips might feel on me, if I won. And then I fucking lost.”
“Well, next time you won’t lose.”
He hummed as he reached for the buttons of my flannel, undoing them one by one. His eyes widened as he revealed what I was wearing underneath. He moved his hands underneath my flannel, running his palms along the sides of my body.
“You got a TNU Talons shirt?” he said. “You’re wearing one of our shirts?”
“There was a little stand out front selling them before the game. Is that cheesy?”
“You’re repping my team,” he said, his eyes full of tender pride. “If that’s cheesy, then I guess I like cheesy.”
I pulled in a slow breath, my skin heating under his gaze.
And then he slowly dipped down onto his knees, running his hands down the front of my body until they landed on my thighs. He reached up to drag his palm along the very obvious bulge in my pants, cupping my cock and balls through the fabric and looking up at me.
I know what I should have been thinking as Jesse’s eyes met mine, there from the floor: Abort mission. Off-limits. There is absolutely nothing good that can come out of making this decision.
I didn’t think any of that.
I couldn’t think about anything else in the world right now other than his eyes and how much I wanted to feel his hands on me. I reached down, stroking my fingers through his still slightly damp, gorgeous dark hair.
“I… I want you so fucking badly.” My voice came out low and broken, and I didn’t care anymore if I seemed desperate.
I saw the hint of a smile come across his face and it sent my heart racing.
His hand moved to the button of my jeans, and I focused on the tattoo near his wrist, a small string of green vines and red flowers that snaked up the lower part of his arm.