Overnight Sensation

by Sarina Bowen

  “I do live here,” I point out, possibly unreasonably. “What are you doing?”

  She glances into her bag. “Packing up. Who wants to know?”

  “I do.” And now I’m getting the feeling I’ve fucked things up in some fresh new way. “What’s the matter?”

  “Not a thing,” she says briskly. “And luckily I don’t have a heart condition. That’s the second time today that you scared me senseless.”

  “I haven’t seen you today!”

  Her eyes narrow. “No kidding. But your lovely housekeeper Esme has now seen me naked, seeing as you didn’t mention you had a housekeeper. We startled each other this morning right after my shower. The poor woman dropped a bucket of water. It took us a half hour to clean it up.”

  “Uh-oh,” I say slowly.

  “I’ll say.” She zips up her bag and sets it on the floor.

  “But back up. Why are you packing? Where are you going?”

  “I don’t have all the details worked out yet.”

  “Where will you sleep tonight?”

  “In your teammate Bayer’s bed.”

  “Say what?” A hot pang of jealousy shoots through my chest.

  “Before I go…” Heidi sets down her bag and grabs a folded paper out of her pocket. “Here’s your itemized grocery receipt, as well as your change.”

  I open the receipt and scan it. “Forty-three dollars. Thank you.” The amount of change is a puzzle, though. “Didn’t I leave you two hundred bucks? There’s only seven dollars here.”

  She points at the last line on the page. Assorted gratuities, $150. “You tipped the concierge for helping me bring twenty-seven grocery bags into the building—a dollar a bag. You tipped Esme for her trouble. You tipped your drycleaner delivery person, the FedEx guy, and someone who delivered a shipment of hockey tape to the rink earlier. He looked like he was having a bad day.”

  “Wow. I’m so generous,” I say drily. “Did all my teammates display the same largesse?”

  “Nope,” she says, dusting off her hands. “Just you. And the very last expenditure was for a new pair of lucky panties. For me.” She lifts her perfect chin and levels me with an angry gaze. “You’re not the only one who’s allowed a superstition or two. And my lucky panties have obviously lost their magic.”

  Every time her rosebud lips say the word panties, a zap of electricity shoots through me. “Am I familiar with this pair? The black lace? Did you retire them? I don’t think a pair of panties can get any luckier than those got on Saturday night. They should be framed and hung on the wall, probably.”

  “Not exactly.” She licks her lips. “I threw them right in the trash. This new pair could be an improvement. They can steer me toward a guy who stays off the blogs for at least twenty-four hours after testing my suspension.”

  “What?” I blink. “The blogs?”

  With the world’s most impatient eye-roll, Heidi pulls out her phone and shoves it in my face.

  I immediately recoil. “Oh, gross! That headline!” The Latin Lover Strikes Again. Yikes.

  “Yes, it’s horribly racist,” Heidi snaps. “But what about the photo?”

  “Forget the Latin shit,” I argue. “They can’t use ‘lover.’ That’s my sister for Christ’s sake. Ew.”

  “Your…” Heidi snatches the phone back from me. “Sister? But you showed me her picture! And that girl looks nothing like you.”

  “I have two sisters,” I grumble. “Tell me this—do you look exactly like your sister?”

  Heidi’s eyes widen. Slowly she shakes her head.

  “Then you ought to understand that Jackie and I favor my dad. He’s half-Brazilian and half-Cuban American. But—newsflash—my mom is a white lady from Canada. Not that the author of this blog post was interested in that detail.”

  Heidi gasps. “Oh no!” She covers her face with her hands. “I’m a horrible person. I made a shallow assumption based on imperfect observations of implied ethnicity! No wonder I didn’t fit in at Bryn Mawr.”

  Didn’t I say this girl is hilarious? I grab her hands from her face. “No, Hot Stuff. The real stupidity here is believing a gossip blog. Like you don’t know any better than that? Please.”

  She gazes up at me. “I’m sorry. I mean—I’m not supposed to care. You can hook up with whoever you want. I’m not supposed to get jealous. You warned me.”

  “Aw. You were jealous? Is that why I tipped half of New York City?”

  She drops her chin.

  “You’re right,” I whisper. “You’re not a good girl at all. I think you need to make it up to me.” I cup a hand under her drooping chin, and find her sad blue eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Come over here and kiss me.”

  Confusion crosses her features. “Jason, you gave me very clear rules. ‘There are only one-way tickets on the Castro train.’”

  She does a startlingly good impression of me. And she’s right. This is entirely out of character for me. For the first time in years, once isn’t going to be nearly enough. I’m starting to clue in, although it took long enough.

  “Okay, listen,” I try. “The Castro train left the station without me. I threw away my own rulebook way back when I kissed you in the carwash. Or maybe it was all the way last spring, when you sassed me for eating the last blueberry muffin.” Silas was right. We’ve been circling each other for months.

  “What are you saying?” she whispers.

  “I’m saying that you and I should be a thing.”

  It’s quiet for a moment while we both take that in. I can’t tell which of us is more surprised. I mean it, though. She’s more to me than a one-night stand.

  “But that’s confusing,” she says eventually.

  “Tell me about it.” I never had any trouble with my one-night rule before now. “But you’re all I can think about. So let’s just see where it goes. We could start right now. Come here and kiss me hello.”

  She doesn’t move.

  “Look.” I chuckle. “I’m sorry to confuse you. And I know my track record sucks. But I think you like me, too. So kiss me, or tell me I’m wrong.”

  Heidi tips her head to the side and considers me. But she doesn’t move.

  I snap my fingers, just to be a dick. “I’m waiting.” There’s a part of me that’s still fighting to keep my distance. But that part is quickly overruled as Heidi stands up straighter and looks me dead in the eye. She wants this, but she’s afraid to trust it, too.

  Although it’s torture, I stay where I am and wait. But when she moves forward, I can no longer control my expression. I give her a hungry, desperate look as she steps into my personal space.

  “Good girl,” I whisper, as my hands pull her body against mine, the way I’ve dreamed of doing these past few days. My soul exhales as I take her into my arms.

  But I don’t kiss her yet. It has to be her choice.

  Slowly, she takes my face in both her hands, rises up on her tiptoes, and brushes her lips over mine.

  I make a low, needy noise. But she sets herself back down on her heels and releases me. “That’s all I get?”

  “What do you want?”

  “You,” I grunt. “Naked. Often.”

  “I’m still thinking,” she says at close range, as her fresh, citrus scent overwhelms me. “You were a one-night stand. I don’t know how to wrap my head around this.”

  “Why don’t you wrap some other things around me while you think about it? Just try me out.”

  “Like a free sample?” She squints at me.

  “Yeah.” I take her smooth hand and place it right over my erection. “Sample that, if you need convincing.”

  Her lips part in surprise. And since a good hockey player always finds his opening, I lean forward and slide my tongue between those sweet lips. The sound she makes is half gasp, half groan. I kiss her deeply, wrapping my arms around her waist, and finally, finally pulling her body against mine.

  Oh, hell yes. She relaxes against me, her mouth melting under mine. And everyth
ing is right with the world.

  22

  Heidi

  I used to think I was a smart girl. Not so much right now.

  Every time Jason kisses me, I get a little stupider. And, let’s face it, this is probably just a whim of his that he’ll reconsider by morning. Good thing, too. If I saw him naked every day, I’d probably lose all my executive function. I’d walk into doors and leave my phone in the refrigerator.

  But right this second, lucid thought is overrated. The slide of his tongue against mine turns all my thoughts to a staticky hiss. My hands find the hard planes of his back and then the warmth of his neck. I give in and cling to him while his wide hand coasts down my ass and lifts my skirt.

  Oh. Oh, wow. That bossy maneuver makes my pulse quicken. I wore a short skirt today just in case I ran into him. I wanted to look very hot and unavailable. But now I’m feeling hot and very available as his palm skims over my panties.

  “Is this the new pair?” he whispers against my lips.

  “No.” In truth, there is no new pair of panties. That was just bluster. But I’m not ready to admit it. “I was saving those for a special occasion.”

  His fingers breech the edge of the fabric. “I’ll show you a special occasion.”

  “P-please,” I hear myself beg. I know better than to lose my heart to Jason. But here I am, anyway. His touch makes my heart race. I crave him. So even if this ends badly, I don’t want to stop.

  There’s no subtlety in his touch. That naughty hand slips down my ass, parts my legs and cups my pussy. As his fingers meet sensitive flesh, my breath hitches in the middle of our kiss.

  Jason smiles against my mouth. “Somebody missed me,” he whispers as his fingertips find slickness and heat.

  “Shut up,” I say, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “Don’t ruin it with your giant ego.”

  “My giant ego missed you, too, though,” he says, and I melt a little more. “And now I’m going to show you how much.”

  Our clothes come off piece by piece right there in the bathroom. We’re naked and lip-locked as we sway together under the bright bathroom lighting. “Come right this way,” he whispers, nudging me toward the bathtub. “I’ve been thinking about you naked in here for days.”

  He grips the faucet and starts the flow of warm water into the bath. “Hop in there. I’m going to shut the bedroom door.”

  “Good call,” I say in a shaky voice.

  With a hockey player’s speed, he skates out of the bathroom. I step into the tub and sit down. The shallow water is nice and hot and causes my skin to form goosebumps and my nipples to harden. And then self-consciousness sets in. My sex life up until I met Jason has been missionary position on a bed. I feel exposed right now.

  Jason reappears in the doorway, a condom in his hand. He dims the lights and his eyes darken when he spots me in the tub. “Now that’s what I wanted to come home to,” he says in a voice like gravel.

  Well, okay then. I’d better up the ante. I unhook the little hand shower from its wall mount and turn it on. Then I turn the spray onto my bare breasts.

  I’m rewarded by a guttural sound of longing from deep in his throat. About two seconds later he’s in the tub with me, taking up all the extra space and pulling me into his lap. “Let me do that,” he says, grabbing the sprayer from my hands.

  “Careful,” I say as he aims warm water at my tummy. “You’re going to splash the floor.”

  “Who fucking cares?” He drops the hand shower into the tub and finds my mouth with his.

  Oh my. That bossy tongue is back and ordering mine around. I get more of his deep, scorching kisses. Now that his hard body is naked and under mine, I feel desperate. I turn my body until I’m straddling him. As we kiss, I rub myself against him in a deliciously undignified manner.

  Jason breaks our kiss, breathing hard. Oh, yay, I think. He’s going to get the condom. Only he doesn’t. He just waits there, his naked body hot and hard, and he’s smiling at me as the steam rises around us.

  “What?” I whisper.

  He reaches up and turns the water off—the tub is already halfway filled. “Nothing. I’m just taking my time tonight.”

  “But I don’t need you to,” I argue. “Don’t be polite.”

  “I’m not,” he insists. “But I’ve discovered something about you.”

  “What’s that?” I pant.

  “You only let me boss you around when we’re both naked. When you’re dressed up in your cute-as-fuck little outfits, I can’t tell you anything.”

  That sounds about right, so I don’t argue.

  “And I like to be in charge,” he adds. “So I think you’re going to have to spend a lot of time without your clothes.”

  “Oh.” I shiver happily at the thought.

  He actually laughs. “Yeah, I know. The hardship. Now I have a few questions. And you’re going to answer them.”

  “Right now?” I whine.

  “Yeah, baby. You have to talk to me or you don’t get the good stuff.”

  “Then make it snappy.”

  He kisses me once on the nose. “Riddle me this—if you were upset with me this week, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because…” Why didn’t I? It’s hard to think when you have the hottest hockey player in North America naked between your thighs. Oh, right. “It wasn’t relevant. You told me not to expect anything more from you, so I didn’t.”

  His smile disappears as he runs a finger along my cheekbone. “I told you not to expect more sex, because I didn’t anticipate this. But I’m not a shitty friend, Heidi. I wouldn’t spend the night with you and then pick up a random less than twenty-four hours later.”

  “You do have a reputation,” I point out.

  “Right.” He shrugs. “If the blogs say it, then it must be true.”

  Whoops. “I’m sorry.”

  He leans in to give me a quick kiss. “Don’t let them turn your head again, okay?”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “Even if you and I are a thing, they won’t stop making up shit about me.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m the only one who gets to turn your head.”

  “Mmm.” I stare up at his flexing forearm as he reaches for the condom.

  “I didn’t hear that,” he says, pausing with the packet in his hand. “Did you agree with me?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, man.” He drops his head back for a second and lets out a hot breath. “I like the sound of that. Here.” He hands me the condom.

  I unwrap it with clumsy fingers. I’ve never done this part before. I squint at the condom in the dim light, trying to see which way it’s rolled. But, heck. This shouldn’t be my job.

  Glancing up at him, I catch Jason watching me with greedy eyes. He’s enjoying this. It’s dawning on me that he’s always keeping me on my toes, seeing what I’ll do next.

  So I slide backwards down his thighs, lean down, and lick the fat crown of his cock.

  “Oh, fuck,” he gasps. “Did I say you could do that?”

  “You said I could have a sample,” I point out. And then I open my mouth as wide as I can and take him inside.

  All his muscles go rigid. I hollow my cheeks and suck, and he makes a broken noise. His fist closes around my hair as I go to town, licking and mouthing him eagerly.

  Now this is power. He thinks he has my number? I also have his.

  His curses echo against the bathroom walls as I work him over. I’m no expert at this, but my enthusiasm shines through. I’ve never heard the Lord’s name taken in vain quite as frantically as Jason does tonight.

  Eventually he pushes me off, then leans back against the tub with a sigh. “No more of that or I’ll disgrace myself.” He grabs the forgotten condom out of my hand and rolls it down his length with haste.

  I sit back, arms crossed in front of my damp body, wondering what happens next. My face feels flushed, and the ends of my hair are damp and wild.

&nbs
p; “Don’t get shy now,” he says, beckoning to me. “Let me look at you.” When I drop my arms, his gaze makes a slow sweep of my body, lingering on my breasts, my tummy. And then my lady parts.

  A lifetime of good-girl habits isn’t easily shed. That dirty gaze gives me the urge to close my legs. But I resist it. My fingers tingle with the need to cover myself, but I let him admire me. After all, this is exactly what I asked for. I want him to see me as a woman.

  So instead of hiding, I rest my hands on the sides of the tub and actually spread my legs a little farther.

  “Fuck,” he says in a broken voice. And then he moves, gripping my hips and sliding my body closer to his. We’re of one mind as I brace myself over him. Quickly, he lines up beneath me and then lowers me down onto his cock, filling me with one long stroke.

  “Yes!” I gasp as my body stretches to accommodate him. I grip his shoulders and grind against him. I can’t help myself.

  He groans happily. “You…” He takes a deep breath and begins to move his hips beneath me. Finally. “…are exactly what I need.”

  I couldn’t agree more, but I don’t want any more conversation. So I grab his face and kiss him. Hard.

  Afterward, we wrap towels haphazardly around ourselves and stagger to his bed, where we lay together in a steamy heap. “I have a theory,” he pants.

  “Murmph,” I say, because my lips have forgotten how to say anything other than “oh god oh god” and “YES! YES! YES!”

  I really hope Silas isn’t home yet. We weren’t exactly quiet.

  “You told me that men always treat you too carefully. Because they’re intimidated by your daddy.”

  “It’s true.” I sigh, trying to slow down my breathing.

  “Nah,” Jason says with a chuckle. “I think they’re intimidated by you.”

  “What?” I gasp. “That makes no sense. I’m not intimidating.”

  He rolls over to look at me with those big brown eyes. They’re full of warmth. “See, your fearlessness is a real turn-on for me,” he says, reaching out to wrap a lock of my damp hair around his finger. “But some men can’t handle that. It makes them wonder if they’re enough.”