Kissing Micky (Washington Guardians Hockey Book 1)

by Ellen Devlin

  Tom thought a moment. “DC Comics,” he said, glad to be able to give an answer, although he didn’t really have a strong feeling one way or the other.

  Liz squinted at him and pursed her lips. “X-men or Avengers?”

  “X-men.”

  She sighed, looking a little defeated, and said, “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

  Tom laughed. “I’ve already been downgraded from ‘fantasy’ to ‘cute?’ I’m crushed,” he said, grabbing his heart in mock despair.

  Liz laughed with him, both relieved and pleased he was already comfortable joking with her about what could have been such an awkward subject. “I’m afraid you were downgraded at the DC Comics answer. I thought maybe you could make up a few points if you chose the Avengers on the Marvel side, but what can I say?” She shrugged. She looked very serious for a moment and put her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. “You are still really cute, Tom. It’s okay.” Liz tried to ignore the fact that touching his arm made her slightly dizzy.

  “Oh, thank you. I feel much better now.” Every hair on Tom’s arm was standing up. I’m not a teenager. This is insane.

  She gave him her address, and they decided on a time and prepared to part. Tom asked, “Can I bring something? A bottle of wine?”

  Liz looked a little sheepish and said, “Only if it’s something you’d particularly like. Wine just isn’t my thing. I’m more of a beer chick. I’ve got some Fat Tire at my place, but you’re welcome to bring something different. See you tonight!” And she turned and walked to her car.

  Tom watched her walk away, admiring the view, of course, but a little lost in thought. She was keeping him off balance in surprising little ways, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this comfortable with someone this quickly. There was an ease between them that was really nice. “Right.” Like they fit. He smiled.

  ***

  Tom knocked on her apartment door, holding a six-pack with a few craft brews he particularly liked. She opened the door and threw him a thousand-watt smile, and he felt an unexpected flip in his stomach.

  Liz had obviously showered—her hair was almost but not entirely dry and hung in soft, dark blonde waves past her shoulders, rather than being up in a ponytail or a loose bun as it had been other times he’d seen her. She was barefoot and wearing well-worn jeans. Her t-shirt was obviously shaped for a woman, as it hugged her curves, but not tightly. It looked like it fit perfectly. All in all, she looked completely at home, completely comfortable.

  “Hey!” she said brightly, giving him a welcoming hug. “Come on in! Welcome to my humble abode.” Liz put one foot slightly forward, bowed formally, and gestured around her apartment with one hand. “I hope you have enjoyed your tour, because that’s pretty much it.”

  Tom laughed. “I’m a thirty-two-year-old man temporarily living with roommates. Again. This looks like a little slice of heaven to me.”

  Liz thanked him for the beer, and they each grabbed one. While she moved the rest to the fridge, she gestured to the couch. “Please, go take a seat on my very favorite piece of furniture. The squishiest, most comfy little couch ever. I’ve got the movie queued up, and the popcorn is ready. I’ll grab it and bring it over.”

  The couch was really an oversized, overstuffed loveseat, covered in a soft microfiber, with a matching ottoman. Tom flopped his large frame down into a corner, kicked off his flip-flops, and propped his bare feet on the ottoman, guessing from Liz’s attire that this would be acceptable, and rested his left hand holding the beer on the armrest. He briefly tilted his head back and called out, “Okay, Liz, you’re right. This might be the best couch ever.”

  “I know, right?” she replied as she came around the side of the couch holding a bowl of popcorn and her beer. “I’ve had it for years. It just keeps getting better.”

  She put the bowl of popcorn on the ottoman for a moment to turn out the main light, then sat back down, cross-legged, next to Tom and moved the popcorn bowl to her lap. She hit “play” on the remote, picked up the bowl, and uncurled to sit on the couch normally.

  Without thinking, Tom moved his right arm over in a natural invitation to have her sit close beside him.

  Without thinking, Liz snuggled next to him, turning slightly toward him, feet drawn up close on the couch and her knees pulled up partially on his lap. She was holding her beer balanced on her knee and placed the popcorn bowl in his lap by the armrest. Her head was against his chest near his shoulder. He pulled her in close, dropping his right hand down her arm to her elbow and hip, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if they had done this a hundred times before.

  The first scene was well under way by the time they both fully recognized just how closely together they were sitting.

  Liz became more and more aware of the warmth of his body beside her. She felt the size and strength of the arm that was around her shoulder and was almost painfully aware of the feel of him slowly moving his thumb against her elbow in an unconscious caress. He was wearing a soft t-shirt, and she was having trouble resisting the urge to turn her head and rub her cheek against his chest—to feel the strength of him, to move her face up to the crook of his neck so that she could smell him again, as she had outside the restaurant.

  The thought made a small shiver run through her. Her heart was racing, and the room felt much too hot. She desperately wanted to at least put her hand on his chest again—the brief touch during their kiss the other night was a tantalizing sample of how just how good that felt—but one hand was between her and his side, and the other was trapped in the job of balancing a beer she was not going to drink.

  By the time Tom felt Liz shudder, he was already deep in his own struggle. She was soft and warm, and her hair smelled wonderful, and the minute he started thinking about their kiss the previous night, he was lost. His brain shut off. He realized he had been gently caressing her arm and paused for a moment to fully register the action. He began again but allowed the tips of his other fingers to trail along the inside of her lower arm as well.

  She felt every nerve ending blazing at the contact point of each fingertip and was distantly surprised to find that each one of those nerve endings apparently ran directly to every possible erogenous zone. She felt her nipples contract, and a flood of moisture headed south in her body, sending another shiver rippling through her. He’s only touching my arm. I’m not going to make it.

  She gave up, closed her eyes, and firmly rubbed her cheek against his chest briefly, just for a moment, just to see how it felt. God, he feels amazing.

  Tom had gritted his teeth with her second shudder, and his breath hissed in slightly when she rubbed against his chest. He was wearing loose cargo shorts, and there was already considerably less room in them than when he’d sat down a little while ago. He put his beer down on the side table and moved the bowl of popcorn.

  As he gently took the beer from her right hand, she immediately moved it onto his chest, pressing in to feel the hardness of the muscles underneath his shirt. She could feel his heartbeat.

  He removed his hand from her arm and lightly gripped her hip. His voice rasped, “Please tell me you’re not watching this movie.”

  She grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and said huskily, “I’m not sure I saw the title screen.”

  He moved quickly, saying, “Oh, thank God,” as he pulled her to straddle his lap. Liz raked her fingers through his hair on her way to wrapping her arms around his neck, and he raised his head to kiss her parted lips. Tom held her with one arm angled up her back and the other across her hips. Their first kiss was an electric shock straight to his groin, and he flexed suddenly, pulling her against him tightly, pressing his firm erection to the seam of her jeans and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

  Liz moaned into his mouth as he pulled her into him, and it was Tom’s turn to groan when she ground herself briefly against the sizable bulge in his shorts. He ran his hands up her sides and under her shirt, cupping her breasts, and then reached behind t
o unclasp her bra. He moved his hands back around, stroking along her bare skin, and then pulled away from their kiss so he could watch her face as he ran his thumbs over her nipples.

  The feeling was so intense she gasped out loud and grabbed his shoulder for support as her muscles jumped.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed, clearly trying to get her bearings.

  Tom already felt his control slipping, and when Liz reacted so strongly just to him touching her nipples, his erection surged and made every effort to breach the restrictions of fabric. He could see she felt it, because she suddenly tightened her grip on his shoulder and looked at him with eyes almost feral in their intensity.

  Her reactions were making him crazy. He was trying to remember there were reasons he shouldn’t be doing this.

  She shifted her hips against him, pressed and thrust along his length, and kissed him hard, pushing her tongue into his mouth. Tom pulled her in tight again as she bit at his lower lip, her fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck.

  Liz was moving on his lap, making small rocking movements against his rock-hard erection. He shifted his hands down to her hips to hold her still in an effort to regain some measure of brain function but then pressed up into her, unable to stop seeking the heat and friction.

  She gasped and moaned his name.

  Tom. Not Micky.

  It was just enough to pry through the lust.

  He moved his hands up to her shoulders and in the greatest, and worst, act of willpower of his life gently pushed back from the kiss, saying, “Liz, I don’t want to—”

  Her eyes flew open, and she immediately backed toward his knees, saying, “Oh my God, Tom, I’m so sorry, I…”

  He grabbed her wrists to keep her from moving further and croaked, “Stop! Stop. Let me finish.” He looked at her, wanting her to understand. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  She blinked at him for a moment.

  “Oh.”

  In a slightly strangled voice, he said, “I am about five seconds away from the point of no return. You are so fucking sexy,” he continued, his voice getting lower and huskier, and his eyes dark and lusty, “and I am insanely turned on, and God, I want you. But we met like five minutes ago, and you’re Paige’s best friend. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  Liz looked at him for a few seconds, breathing hard, and then asked, in the sexiest voice Tom had ever heard, “Can I take advantage of you?”

  Tom stared at her, still holding her wrists, while her words filtered through to the part of his brain that could still process speech.

  “Holy. Fuck. Yes.”

  Chapter Five

  “You’re wearing way too many clothes,” she said from her position in the middle of the bed. He had already removed her shirt and bra.

  Tom growled, a sound that sent shivers racing down her entire body. He climbed over her on the bed, and she sat up to kiss him, running her hands up under his shirt, finally touching his chest and back, pulling the shirt up over his head.

  Liz pulled herself close to him, pressing her breasts to his chest, feeling the friction of his chest hair against her nipples, exploring the planes of his back with her hands, exploring the feel of his tongue with hers. She wanted to touch every part of him.

  She moved her hands around to the front of his shorts, released the button, and pulled down the zipper. When she reached inside his boxer briefs and wrapped her hand around his hard shaft, he groaned and looked down at her with lust-filled eyes and a playfully wicked smile.

  He gave her a shove back onto the bed, undid her jeans, and quickly pulled them off along with her underwear before disposing of his own clothing. He moved back to hover over her, braced on his hands, looking down into her eyes.

  Liz reached up with one hand to pull him down for a hard kiss while reaching down with the other to guide his hardness toward her entrance. She didn’t want to wait, and they were both so ready.

  The first pressure of him entering her was fantastic. He was a big guy, and everything about him was gorgeously proportional. And it had been such a long time—years. He was taking this part slowly, and it was amazing. She moaned and whispered, “Oh, God,” getting lost in the sensation of his slow, shallow movements.

  Tom put his head down near her ear, breathing her in, listening to her. He was taking things almost teasingly slow now they had actually begun, so she could get used to his size, and because it clearly turned her on. She shifted her left leg up over his hip, making more sounds of pleasure. He growled a little, enjoying what he was doing to her before they had even really started.

  Liz was making small rocking motions with her hips as he moved further and further in with each small thrust; he was almost fully inside her now. With a final push, he pressed completely into her, grinding his pubic bone against her clit.

  Liz gasped, clutched Tom, pressed her face into his neck, spasmed against him, and cried out, “Oh my God, Tom!” as the unexpected orgasm washed over her.

  Tom froze in surprise, feeling her muscles pulsing around him and hearing her call out his name in her climax. That she had orgasmed simply from him entering her caught him off guard, and he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, not moving.

  He felt Liz relax underneath him and heard her say quietly, “Holy crap.” And then she shifted and pulsed around him one more time. She stroked his shoulder and said, “Are you okay?”

  Tom gritted his teeth and growled, “I’m trying not to come. Don’t move.”

  Another pulse, along with a gasp. She said, “Sorry about that, I can’t control the aftershocks.”

  “Shit,” he grumbled under his breath, twitching inside her. “Don’t talk, either. Give me a minute.”

  She smiled and said, “I could add an extra nametag. The first one says, ‘Hi, my name is Liz.’” She felt another twitch.

  “Shut up.”

  “The next one is, ‘Your name is Tom.’”

  Another twitch. He growled again. “I’m serious.”

  “And then one that says, ‘Think about baseball stats because they’re really fucking boring.’”

  He lifted his head and looked at her.

  “They are!” she assured him. “Oh, wait, you were an econ major. Shit, if baseball stats make you really horny, that’s not gonna help at all, is it?” Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at him.

  Tom smiled, laughed, and said, “They do not make me horny. You, on the other hand…” His smile changed mood entirely, and he began moving inside her.

  She moaned and dropped her head back onto the pillow.

  Tom moved in to kiss the hollow of her throat, then up under her ear, and then spoke into her ear, his breath vibrating the tiny nerve endings there. “You are making me crazy.” He was slowly sliding in and out of her. “Feeling you come around me was unbelievable. I want to feel it again.”

  Her breath caught in a gasp, and she moved her leg up over his hip again, grinding against him.

  He chuckled and moved his mouth to her other ear. “More than once. Tonight.”

  Liz caught his mouth with a kiss and grabbed his ass, pulling him as close to her as possible, trying to find more friction. Tom reached down and moved her leg on his hip even higher, pressing underneath her thigh, and then thrust deep and ground down hard.

  She released the kiss to say, “Yes! Please! Don’t stop!”

  Tom repeated the deep thrust three more times, and she shouted her climax. He felt her clasping him in pulses, and she looked at him with eyes wide and smoky, and so sexy he felt it in his chest.

  Liz put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. Her voice was husky and low. “You are amazing. I want to watch you when you come. I want to feel you come inside me. I have an IUD, but if you want a condom and you have one, now is the time, because I have no intention of letting you go until I watch you have an earth-shattering orgasm.”

  She heard him say, “Christ,” and then he was thrusting into her with a strength and f
ierceness that made her legs weak. She watched his face, listened to his breathing and the sounds he made, feeling the sensations building inside her again. She was moving her hips with him, and her sounds of pleasure were joining his.

  It was becoming more and more difficult to keep her eyes open to watch his face, but he was almost there; she knew it. She was too.

  Tom roared when he climaxed. There was no other word for the sound. It was primal, male, and utterly intoxicating. The sound triggered another orgasm for Liz, and they finished together.

  He tried not to collapse directly on top of her and moved off to the side, hearing Liz groan as he slipped out of her.

  She sighed. “That part always feels slightly wrong.”

  He pulled her to snuggle close into his shoulder. “That might be the most amazing sex I have ever experienced. And that is a compliment I do not give lightly.” Tom looked down at her. “I have to know. Do you always come like that? At the beginning of sex?”

  She chuckled, sounding happy, utterly satisfied, and slightly buzzed from the orgasm highs. “No, that was a first, and that was fantastic, by the way. Having three was new as well. Two, yes. Three? That was all you.”

  She ran her hands over his chest, emphasizing her words, humming contentedly. “Mmmmm. And I concur—possibly the best sex of my life.” She looked up in his eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

  It was his turn to chuckle. “My pleasure. Truly.” The corner of his mouth turned up, and he put his hands behind his head and said, “All in a day’s work for a fantasy, ma’am.”

  Liz laughed, and her eyes took on a twinkling look that was rapidly turning smoky. Tom already recognized the look and felt his heart jump. Other parts weren’t quite ready to jump yet, but it wouldn’t be too long.

  “You do realize,” she said, “that in a fantasy it’s never just one time.”

  He pulled her in and kissed her, deeply and quite thoroughly. “It’s a tough gig.”