Her thighs try to close, body writhing under me as I draw the orgasm out, building it back up, pushing her higher and higher, until she’s crashing down again, fingers tight in my hair as she bucks against my mouth.
The rigid arc of her body becomes a languid puddle, and I place a soft kiss on her clit, then trail a path up her stomach, pausing at her nipples before I reach her mouth.
I drop my hips, the head of my cock sliding over her sensitive skin, and then I’m pushing inside her again, feeling the still-present pulse from the waning orgasm.
Lilah gasps and those fingers of hers tighten in my hair. When my lips touch hers, she moans, licking at my mouth, the slide of her tongue aggressive and searching.
I pull back, cupping her face. “Can you taste yourself?”
“Yes.” Her legs tighten around my waist.
“Are you getting off on it?”
“Didn’t I always?” Her smile is full of heated mischief. “I want to ride you this time.”
“Anything for you.” I flip us over and she takes my mouth again, long hair shadowing her face. Eventually she sits back, palms flat on my chest as she grinds over me. The lean lines of youth have turned into lush curves.
“You’re so beautiful.” I hold her hips, helping her rock.
“So are you.” She bends to kiss me.
When we come, it’s within seconds of each other, but I’m privileged to watch her fall first.
Chapter Twelve
Dates
Lilah
If there was any question as to whether the chemistry between us had faded over the years, it’s certainly been put to rest over the weeks leading up to the exhibition games.
I honestly have no idea how Ethan and I ever got anything accomplished back when we were in high school and hormonal impulses dominated any kind of rationality. I’m currently using lunch breaks and the nights he has practice or team meetings to keep up with course work.
Tomorrow morning Ethan gets on a plane for his first exhibition game away from home, which will give me much-needed study time, but it comes with a price: Ethan’s anxiety. He’s very much a creature of habit when it comes to prepractice and game rituals—even exhibition games. He doesn’t like that he can’t follow the ones he’s already set in place—which usually include a good luck kiss from me. There’s a lot riding on this game for him, and Ethan stresses most about his away-game performances because he doesn’t have the comfort and familiarity of home ice. I worry he’s going to give in to the superstitions he sometimes gets hung up on.
Tonight Ethan has something special planned—maybe as a distraction from his anxiety. I figured we’d stay in, I’d wear a pair of his favorite boxers for good luck, and we’d order takeout and have one of our marathon sex nights. But he’s excited about whatever he has set up, so instead of luring him inside, I step out onto the front porch as soon as I hear him pull into the driveway.
As I walk toward the truck, he jumps out, hands behind his back. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?” I pause and grin.
He produces a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag of candy in the other.
“What are you apologizing for now?”
He gives me a look. “I’m not apologizing for anything. I’m taking you out on a date and I thought you might be out of Hot Lips, so I got you more, but if you don’t want them…” He makes a move to throw them back in the truck.
“No, no! I want them.”
“I knew you would.” He hides them behind his back again when I reach for them. “A kiss first.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a soft peck on the cheek.
“Not good enough. I need your hot lips on mine.”
I laugh, but he wraps his arms around me, and our mouths meet, the kiss soft at first and then needy. It goes on long enough that I think maybe we won’t be going out after all, but he disengages and presents me with my gifts. “Why don’t you run those inside and I’ll stay here.”
“You sure you don’t want to come in for a few minutes?”
“I’m sure.”
He waits while I put the flowers and candy in the house and out of Merk’s reach. I grab a few Hot Lips on the way out the door. Ethan meets me around the passenger side, pausing to kiss me again, much more chastely, before he helps me into the truck. Once I’m buckled in, he rounds the hood and hops behind the wheel. He’s wearing dark-wash jeans and a green shirt, the sleeves of which hug his biceps in the most delectable way.
“You look nice.” He gives me a lingering once-over, gaze traveling from my sandals up my bare calf to the hem of my dress. Summer is fading, the nights growing steadily cooler, so I’ve brought along a wrap to cover my bare shoulders.
“So do you.” I fiddle with the bangle on my wrist, playing with the charm as I glance at him. I only take it off for work these days. Ethan thinks it’s a talisman of luck when I wear it. Much like the dual set of dog tags hanging from the rearview mirror, boasting his jersey number—I had them made for him back in high school, and I recently had a new set made prior to the first exhibition game this season. “You’re sure you want to go out tonight?”
Ethan stretches his arm across the seat, fingertips brushing along my collarbone as he reverses out of the driveway. “Yes, and don’t worry—we’ll still have lots of time to get naked later. I promise.”
“I’m not worried. I’m just wondering how difficult dinner is going to be with you sporting that.” I point at the very obvious erection pushing at the fly of his jeans.
“It’ll go away.”
I shrug and cross my legs, smoothing out my skirt when it rides up, drawing attention to my legs. Ethan is an ass man, but he loves legs almost as much. They get him all riled up, especially when the only thing covering them is a flippy skirt. And panties that can be just as easily pulled down. Those might be in my purse at the moment—he’s not the only one who can be a tease.
“How are you feeling about tomorrow?”
He taps on the steering wheel and bites his lip. “Excited but nervous.”
“Because it’s away from home?”
He nods. “I know my dad is doing a lot better, but I worry about my mom managing on her own.”
“I’m here to help, and Jeannie knows that.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. I just don’t want anything to happen while I’m gone.”
“He’ll be fine. You focus on the game, exactly like you have been. I know it’s daunting, but you’re going to be amazing. Just remember that everyone is already talking about how well you’re playing.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing, though. I’m worried I’m going to get out there and mess up. I just want to prove I can play off home ice.”
“You will.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything else. He needs to see for himself that he can do it. He makes a left onto a back road that takes us out of town.
“Where’re we going?”
He gives me a secretive smile. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
Ethan has been big on surprises lately. Particularly since the night I finally stopped fighting my feelings.
Simplicity has always been the best way to get my attention, such as the bouquet of wild daisies that appeared in my locker at work, exactly like the ones he picked for me when we were kids, a bag of Hot Lips tucked into my purse, one of his old high school shirts that still fits me but was hilariously small on him folded neatly in my pajama drawer. Every gift is a reminder of what we’ve been through together and how well he still knows me.
Earlier this week, he picked me up after work and took me to Cosmo’s for sandwiches. We sat at our table in the corner, my foot hooked behind his calf as we ate, and for once he actually made an attempt to help me study. Mostly it was me explaining things, but the effort was sweet on his part. Ethan loathed statistics in high school, and the only ones he enjoys now pertain to hockey.
I’m curious as to where exactly he’s decided to take me toni
ght. On our way out of town, we pass a few familiar farms. We used to come this way to go to the drive-in or the theater in Minneapolis. It took a little longer, but then there was a reason behind the scenic route.
“Remember the first time I gave you road head?”
Ethan glances at me, then shifts his attention back to the road, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s quite the conversation starter.”
“You were so excited. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Get you off before we got home so we could have more sex.” I ponder that for a moment. “Or maybe that was some excuse you fed me because you really wanted road head. It wasn’t like you couldn’t go forever back then.”
“I can still go forever,” Ethan says defensively.
“You’ve got stamina, maybe not eighteen-year-old jackrabbit stamina, but the professional-hockey-playing kind, and that’s almost the same.”
“I have way more finesse than I did back then—that has to count for something.”
“Oh? You think you have finesse now?” I’m playing with him, obviously.
Ethan arches a brow. “You can’t tell me if I’d come inside your place tonight that we wouldn’t have been naked on the closest available surface within five minutes.”
I give him the same brow back. “Wow, you either overestimate your irresistibility factor, or you underestimate my self-control.”
“You’re the one who mentioned road head, not me.”
“Any hints on where we’re going?” I inspect my nails.
“Subtle, Lilah.”
“I hope it’s nowhere windy.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling as I wait for him to take the bait.
His brow furrows. “Why would you be worried about wind?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “Maybe because I’m not wearing underwear.”
“Bullshit.” He glances at my lap, and his eyes stay there long enough that he starts to veer over the yellow line.
“Steady there.” I nod at the windshield.
Ethan pulls back into his lane. “I want to see.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to take your eyes off the road. It’s dangerous, don’t you think? Besides”—I poke at the lump still jacking up the front of his pants—“you already seem to have an embarrassing problem that doesn’t want to go away. If I confirm my pantilessness, I’m potentially setting you up for an indecent-exposure charge.”
Ethan hits the brakes and makes a hard right. At first I think we’re taking a detour through a field, but then I realize he’s taken one of the dirt tracks we sometimes made use of pre- or postmovie date. How the hell he managed to see it, I’ll never know. He pulls in about twenty feet and shifts into park.
Before I can react, Ethan punches the button to release my seat belt. “Show me.” He’s right in my face, almost on top of me.
I push on his chest. “Sit back.”
It’s only seven, and while the sun is starting to tuck itself below the horizon earlier these days, it’s still light out, which means there are no shadows to obscure his view yet. Shifting so my back is to the door, I set my left foot on the seat. Opening my legs wide, I lift my skirt so Ethan can see I’m very much telling him the truth.
“Fucking Christ, Lilah.”
I shriek when he grabs behind my knees and drags me across the seat, my head bumping the window and the armrest on the way.
His focus shifts from between my legs. “You okay?”
I nod. “Fine.”
He smiles. “You’re about to be a whole lot better than fine.”
Ethan’s hands slide up the inside of my thighs, holding them wide as he dips down, tonguing a path from my entrance to my clit, where he latches on and sucks.
The hot press and suction send a welcome shock of pleasure through my body. I brace one hand on the dash and grab the headrest with the other, slinging my leg over the seat to give Ethan more room. He’s so tall and broad, shoulders taking up all the space between the seat and the dash.
I come hard and fast, my foot slipping and my heel hooking the steering wheel. I’m barely over the crest of my orgasm when Ethan lifts his head, licking his lips as one corner of his mouth turns up a smirk.
“Fuck. Just look at you. Still so fucking naughty, aren’t you? Getting in my truck with no panties on.” Ethan slips a hand behind my neck, stroking softly along my throat with his thumb. At the same time he mirrors the movement between my legs, fingertips skimming my clit, sliding lower. And then he’s pushing two fingers inside, curling up and in, hitting that sweet spot.
“Kiss me,” I moan, wanting the taste of me on his tongue while he finger fucks me.
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“Ethan.” It’s whiny and embarrassing.
His eyes lift from where his fingers slide in and out. He leans in until his mouth is a few inches from mine. He tightens his grip on the back of my neck so I can’t crane to reach him. “Such a greedy girl. Aren’t you already getting what you want?”
“Almost.” It’s hard to concentrate on any one thing with the way he’s touching me, how intense his eyes are, and how close, but out of reach, his mouth is. I feel lost in the ocean of blue, in the burst of amber, a late summer sunrise cresting his iris.
“Almost? This isn’t enough for you? I was trying to be good tonight, take you out, make you feel special, appreciated. I’m trying to date you here, Lilah, and then you have to pull this no-panties trick and shred my self-control.” His mouth is closer now, less than an inch away. “You like to do that, don’t you? To see how much you can push until I break.”
“Yes.” My admission is more moan than word.
The scent of his cologne fills my lungs. His fingers move faster, harder, more insistent inside me, until I’m on the precipice, teetering on the edge. And then I’m free-falling, nerve endings lit up, intense pleasure dominating, Ethan’s name a worship tumbling from my lips.
His eyes are dark, hot with need. He slips his fingers into my mouth and our gazes stay locked as I sweep my tongue along the length. His guttural groan sends another wave of desire through me, and I suck hard, then bite his fingers. He withdraws them, crushing his mouth to mine, biting my lip and then my tongue in punishment when I push past his.
I’ve never wanted like this. Never felt this level of desperation with anyone but him. Ethan hits the button on the glove compartment and fumbles around while I fight with the button on his pants.
He bangs his head on the roof when he folds back on his knees, tearing open a condom.
“Why do we need that?”
“Too much of a mess otherwise.”
I stop him before he can position it over the tip and roll it on. “Come in my mouth.”
“I don’t want a blow job. I want you to ride me.” He’s gripping his erection in his fist; the bead of wetness pooling at the tip spills over, trailing down the head.
“Oh, I plan to. You tell me when it’s time, and I’ll manage the mess.” I straddle his thighs, wrap my hand around his, and guide him to me.
His head falls back, mouth dropping open, eyes fluttering shut as he sheaths himself in me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, so good.” His lids flip open, eyes finding mine in the shadows cast by the field and the trees now blocking the slowly setting sun. “It’s always only been you—you know that, right? Nothing compares to this feeling. I should never have let you go in the first place.”
With a roll of my hips I lean in and brush my lips over his. “You have me now. We’ll make up for all that lost time.”
We kiss slow and fuck slower at first, but the tenderness fades, desire its usurper. I brace one palm on his shoulder and the other on the roof above me to prevent my head from hitting it, thanks to the vigorous thrusting.
The skirt of my dress is an obstruction to Ethan’s view, something he isn’t particularly fond of. Pulling the tie at my neck, he shoves the top down, along with my bra, then tucks the skirt into the fabric. Ho
lding my hips, he pumps into me, helping me ride him.
“I’m close, are you?”
“Yes.” I drop a hand between my thighs and rub my clit, voracious in my quest for yet another orgasm when I’ve already had my fair share. I’m aware that he won’t be here to provide any for the next two days, but having this many in a row won’t ease the need for him in the slightest.
I’m still pulsing when he tells me it’s time. I keep grinding, ignoring his warning.
A flash of headlights through the back window draws my attention. I note another vehicle pulling up behind us on the dirt track. It takes a moment for me to realize it’s a police vehicle—cherries unflashing and siren silent.
“Shit.” I rise up as the vehicle comes to a stop and the driver’s side door swings open.
“It’s too late.” Ethan grips my hips and tries to get back inside me before he comes.
“We have company.”
Ethan swears, body no longer under his control as the orgasm steals his coordination and makes his mind a blank space capable of only one sensation.
A hot burst of wetness soaks the inside of my thighs. So much for not making a mess.
Chapter Thirteen
Catch
Ethan
There’s an officer, Ethan.”
Her words are slow to compute through the orgasm buzz. “What?”
Lilah’s eyes are wide, her hands covering mine on her hips. I realize she’s trying to pry them off. “Police car!”
I glance down to where she’s barely hovering over my still-pulsing cock. Fuuuck. Well, that’s a right mess. It’d be a hot one if we weren’t about to get caught. I release Lilah and she flops down on the passenger seat. She quickly fixes her bra, pulls her dress back into place, and fans her hair across her shoulders.
I have no choice but to tuck myself into my boxers, which are just as much a mess as the inside of Lilah’s thighs. That image is going to be coming with me on my away game tomorrow, and probably until the end of time.
The Good Luck Charm Page 12