Kaufman: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 2)

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Kaufman: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 2) Page 12

by Nicole Edwards


  My entire body is covered with perspiration by the time I begin fucking her ruthlessly. It’s so goddamn good I can’t breathe. Her soft moans urge me to continue, the vibrations against my cock making my head spin.

  I know she’s not going to come from this alone, so I reach beneath her, seeking her clit with my finger, working her roughly until she’s whimpering and begging. I bite her shoulder again, so damn close to losing it.

  “Noelle … oh, fuck, sweetheart… It’s too much. You’re so tight … so hot…”

  “Fuck me,” she rasps. “Harder. Please.”

  I can’t deny her anything right now, so I focus on thrusting into her ass, deeper, harder. I can’t stop myself. She’s absolute perfection, her muscles strangling my dick, driving me closer and closer to release. It’s a pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known. I doubt I’ll ever know anything as intense as this again. My hips thrust forward, back, over and over until I’m on the razor-fine edge of euphoria.

  “Let go,” I snap. “Come for me, Noelle. Goddamn!”

  When she cries out, I follow her right over the edge, my mind obliterated by the intensity that overcomes me. The sensations rip through my body, spots flashing behind my eyes. Just when I think it can’t get better…

  This.

  Noelle

  DON’T ASK ME WHY I’VE always wanted to try anal sex.

  Did it hurt? You betcha.

  Would I do it again? You betcha.

  It’s an act that I knew required a tremendous amount of trust, and when Spencer asked me if I trusted him, I knew he was the one.

  Plus, I figured since we only have one night, we might as well give it our all.

  Only now I’m sore. More than I’d thought I would be.

  Thankfully, Spencer has been gentle with me. He disappeared for a few minutes after, but I realized it was only so he could draw me a bath. I was only a little embarrassed when it hurt to walk. That was until I saw the blazing heat still reflected in Spencer’s eyes as he lifted me into his arms and carried me the rest of the way to the tub.

  Now, as he sits behind me, the water lapping over our naked bodies, I’m content, my body sated. His fingers, lightly drifting over my chest, are luring me to sleep. I don’t want to close my eyes because I don’t want this night to end. Honestly, it’s been surreal. Something I never—not in my wildest dreams—thought would happen.

  “How many men have you been with?”

  Spencer’s words are spoken softly, but I can tell there’s sincere curiosity in his tone. I glance up over my shoulder at him. He’s watching me, his eyes intent.

  “That’s not an appropriate question.” I turn back around.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not. Do you want me to ask you how many women you’ve been with?” I hold up a hand. “That wasn’t a trick question. I don’t want to know.”

  “How many?” he repeats.

  I sigh. “Three.”

  “Including me?”

  Geez. “Yes. Including you.”

  “And what made you want to try anal sex?”

  I laugh, my embarrassment rushing out of me. “Oh, my God, Spencer. Why would you ask me that?”

  “We’ve done it already, sweetheart. No reason to be embarrassed.”

  Too late for that.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I just wanted to.”

  “Was it what you hoped for?”

  Now he’s getting too personal. I can handle the questions about sex, even if they make me blush. But what he’s asking now has to do with how I feel about it. In my opinion, that type of intimacy can’t be had with a stranger. Then again, I’m not the type who can have sex with a stranger. I want to know the man who’s putting his body inside of mine. Just seems logical.

  Spencer’s hand cups my neck and he tilts my head back, forcing me to look up at him.

  “Tell me.”

  “It was good,” I admit, swallowing hard. “I trust you. That’s the only reason…” I can’t finish that sentence. It’s too telling.

  When his lips find mine, I kiss Spencer back, if only to shut him up, to stop the probing questions. This time he’s sweet, gentle even. The few orgasms that’ve been had have taken the urgency out of the moment. This is nice.

  We relax for a few more minutes, and I’m once again drifting off when Spencer’s voice washes over me. The sound is soothing; what he’s asking me is not.

  “What is this, Noelle?”

  I try not to tense up, but I can’t help it. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask me that question because I honestly have no clue.

  He taps my chest with two fingers. Apparently he’s not going to give up on this.

  I sigh and hold up three fingers on both hands.

  “What does that mean?”

  Smiling to myself, I lift my left hand a little higher. “Three.” I lift my right hand and spread my three fingers wide. “Ws.”

  “And that means…?”

  “Wild, wicked, and one night.”

  Spencer chuckles. “You know one night doesn’t start with a W, right?”

  “Of course I know that.” But it sounds like it does.

  “So that’s all this is? One night of wild, wicked sex?”

  “Yep.” It has to be because I know that’s all Spencer is willing to give me.

  More silence ensues and I’m grateful he doesn’t push it.

  “You ready to get out?” he asks, his words a whisper against my cheek.

  I nod.

  I can tell by the way he dries us both off that Spencer has something in mind. My body is already responding to his touch, the way he lets his fingers graze my nipples, his gaze hot as he drops to his knees, wiping all the water from my body. When the towel falls to the floor and Spencer’s lips graze my mound, a moan bubbles up in my throat. I get the feeling I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.

  I’m okay with that.

  I grip his hair when his tongue dips between my labia. Electricity fires from my clit to my nipples as he begins lazily laving me, draping my leg over his shoulder, opening me to him. I have to lean against the bathroom counter or risk falling.

  “Damn, you taste good,” he mumbles against my skin. “I could eat your pussy all night.”

  Heat blooms in my core, his words ratcheting up my need for him.

  Spencer’s skilled tongue is wicked, driving me right to the edge but never letting me go over. I know that’s his plan, but I’m weakening, my leg threatening to give out despite the counter partially holding me up.

  “Come on,” he says, getting to his feet.

  He takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom. I’m tempted to fall onto the mattress and sleep for about a month, but he doesn’t let me. Without preamble, Spencer sheaths his already erect cock with a condom and lies back on the bed. The guy has some serious stamina. I didn’t think men worked that way. He defies the odds, I guess.

  He crooks his finger and summons me forward. This time, I’m crawling over him.

  “Put me inside you,” he says insistently. “I want to feel your pussy while you ride me. Slow and easy.”

  Is it wrong that I like his dirty mouth? The way he tells me everything he wants? If so, I really don’t care.

  Straddling his hips, I rest his cock against my cleft, gliding over him while I watch him. I can tell he’s tired, but he seems to have an endless supply of energy, because he hasn’t given up yet. With dawn coming soon, I know I have to take what I can get. Come morning, this will all feel like a dream. That’s the way it works.

  “Inside you,” Spencer whispers. “Need to be inside you.”

  The gruff rasp of his words makes my pussy clench in response. Lifting my hips, I guide him to my entrance, then slowly lower myself onto him. I’m sore, but I let my body adjust, not wanting this to be over
yet. When Spencer reaches for my hips, I stop him, linking my fingers with his and forcing his hands over his head.

  “My turn,” I tell him, keeping my voice low. “Let me have this.”

  Spencer nods, lifting his head until he claims my mouth. While I rock back and forth on his dick, his tongue mimics the act inside my mouth. Although I’ve enjoyed everything we’ve done thus far, I think this is my favorite. Knowing that I’m in control—that he’s letting me be in control—makes all the difference.

  As the minutes tick by, I lift and lower onto him, slowly, gently, enjoying the friction against my sensitive nerve endings.

  “Noelle…”

  Staring down at him, our faces so close together, this feels intimate. Almost more than I’m comfortable with. But I don’t stop, continuing to fuck him, taking him deeper than I ever thought possible. I’m not going to be able to come like this, and with my fingers twined with his, I can’t push myself over the edge, either.

  “Hold still,” Spencer insists suddenly.

  I stop, taking him all the way inside my body.

  “Sit up.”

  I sit up, reluctantly releasing his hands.

  His hands grip my hips, lifting me up so that he’s only partially inside me. I whimper, needing more. I’m ready to take matters into my own hands, but when I reach down between my legs, he shakes his head.

  “No touching, Noelle. I want you to come like this.” His serious gaze holds mine.

  “I can’t,” I tell him, figuring I might as well break the bad news to him.

  “Wanna bet?”

  His smile is devious.

  “Yeah,” I tell him.

  The heat in his gaze intensifies and I fear that I’ve tempted the beast.

  “Put your hands on my thighs.”

  I reach back, gripping his muscular legs.

  Spencer’s hips lift, pushing his cock deep into my body once more. He lowers them, retreating. Several times he does this, making my body hum with sensation.

  Just when I think I’m going to end the night on a sweet note—after all, he’s already given me more orgasms than I ever imagined possible—Spencer begins fucking me.

  Hard.

  Perfect.

  He’s impaling me from beneath, driving up into me enough to lift my knees off the bed. His abs flex deliciously with every flex of his hips. It’s… “Oh, yes!” It’s amazing. “Spencer…”

  He doesn’t speak, pounding into me, holding me in place with his hands. My teeth rattle with every jarring thrust. There’s no stopping my orgasm, this one more intense than the others. The way he hits that sweet spot inside me is more than I can stand.

  “Spencer… Oh, God… Yes, yes, yes!” My orgasm rips through me, almost painful in its intensity.

  He doesn’t stop, forcing me to ride wave after wave of glorious sensation as it slams into me over and over until…

  “Noelle… Sweetheart… Oh, fuck, yes! Milk my dick… Ahh, God… Yes-s-s.”

  As I crumble forward, resting against Spencer’s chest, the darkness moves in. And just before exhaustion consumes me, I have one last fleeting thought…

  He’s ruined me.

  Totally.

  Noelle’s Journal

  Dear Universe,

  I’m not sure what’s going on, but I don’t think we’re on the same page. The man who was in my bed last night isn’t the long-term kind of guy. Maybe you misread him or something, but I think we need an official reboot on this thing. But in case you’re wondering, I forgive you. It was a very, very good night. But maybe we shouldn’t let that happen again, okay? Thanks.

  13

  Spencer

  Tuesday, October 18th

  I DIG MY STICK INTO the corner, but it’s useless. Too many of us piled in one area. I hear the mumbles and groans, my opponents who are bitching, trying to throw me off. Even Kingston’s brother, Heath, is in on it. Not that I blame the guy. I haven’t pulled any punches tonight, either. We might be friends off the ice, but here … we’re after the same thing. Since we can’t both have it, he’s temporarily my enemy.

  Eventually someone will come out ahead. I hope like hell it’s me, because this has been a shit night so far. I need to prove my worth, show that I’m more than this distraction I’ve turned into.

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to find my groove, and my teammates notice. Blaming someone else would be so damn easy, but I can’t. It’s not in my nature. If we lose tonight, I’m going to take it all on myself.

  Elbows are flying, mine included as I work to get control of the puck. There are a few grunts but no illegal moves yet. Give it another minute and someone’s stick is going to be in someone else’s face.

  Finally!

  “Fuck,” I grumble, wrenching the blade of my stick back and hoping like hell someone’s there to take control.

  A quick glance behind me and…

  Mattias is there, waiting. A quick snap of his wrist and the puck sails to Benne, who is crowding their goalie. There’s a tussle. The goalie knocks the puck away, but Benne doesn’t give up, snapping the puck up and into the net.

  The buzzer sounds; the red lamp lights up!

  Score!!

  Son of a bitch.

  It’s about damn time.

  Noelle

  BECAUSE THE ARROWS HAD AN away game, I opted to take the night off. With Ellie at the bar, she can handle everything, which means I can have a little time to myself. I’ve been incredibly distracted these past few days, and I want to do something to shake it off.

  I start off by agreeing to have dinner with my mom. With my dad out on the road with the team, I know she gets lonely.

  “Jules said she’s working at the bar,” my mom says, passing over a bowl of corn.

  “She is. She’s doing great. The customers love her.”

  My mom looks concerned, glancing between me and her plate. “What about the day care? I thought she was helping Elise.”

  I shake my head. “She was. She wasn’t happy.”

  “As long as she’s doing what she wants to do…” My mother has always been an optimist.

  “Did you know she wants to do photography?”

  The look on my mother’s face says she had no idea, but she covers it quickly. “I know she enjoyed it in high school. Interesting.”

  We eat in silence for a few minutes before a strange tension fills the air. I look up to see my mother watching me closely.

  “What?”

  “How’s your … secret coming along?”

  I laugh at the way she puts it.

  “The Secret is a book, Mom. It’s not my secret.”

  “I read it, you know,” she says, her eyes dancing with excitement. “I like it.”

  Great. I’ve got to find another book to read. Maybe The Great Gatsby or something. She can get interested in that, rather than how the universe is going to help me find a man.

  Focusing on my food, I feel the blush creep up my neck as I think about Spencer and all the wild, wicked things we did on Friday night. No way am I telling my mom about that. Holy crap. My mother would probably start ordering wedding catalogs if she knew I’d spent any time with a man.

  My mother loves Spencer, probably as much as she loves Ellie. The first couple of years following their parents’ deaths, my mom took it upon herself to help them as much as she could. I know Ellie appreciated it at first, but sometimes Marie can be overbearing. She means well.

  And if she thought there was even a remote chance that me and Spencer…

  I’ve spent far too much time thinking about Spencer, and I promised myself I would move on. So what if we had a great night of unbelievable sex. That should tide me over for another couple of years. It’s not like I’m looking to settle down with anyone. I don’t need him to ask me out or anything.


  In fact, I don’t want him to.

  Liar.

  An hour later, after helping my mom with the dishes and giving in to watching an episode of Wheel of Fortune, I’m finally home. Alone.

  Dropping onto the couch, I grab my throw blanket and pull it over my legs, then grab my copy of The Secret. I rub my hand over the cover and close my eyes.

  “Okay, Universe,” I say aloud. “Everything that happened this past week… Ignore it. Pretend it didn’t happen, okay? I’ve decided I don’t need that hockey stick anyway. I’m not looking for a hockey player. I think I’d like a simple man. You know, a lawyer or a doctor.” I laugh out loud because it’s funny. I’m sure there’s nothing simple about a lawyer or a doctor, but surely they’re not nearly as complex as a hockey player.

  “Maybe someone who likes hockey, though. That would be good.”

  I open my eyes and glance at the remote on the table. I should turn on the TV, watch the end of the game. Then again, I would have to see Spencer and…

  I lean forward and snap up the remote, punching the power button. The television comes on, and I dial the channel number, the hockey game popping up. My dad’s voice fills the room and I relax somewhat. I love listening to his voice. Every happy memory I have is of my parents and my sister. We’re a close family and I’m grateful for that.

  “Get it!” I yell at the TV, leaning forward to raptly watch as Spencer digs into the corner boards, attempting to get the puck. “Come on, come on, come on.”

  Adrenaline floods my bloodstream like I’m the one out on the ice. We all know that’s not a possibility because me and ice skates are not a good combination. I’m merely thankful that my best friend doesn’t insist on ice skating. She’s as graceful as I am on the ice, so we work out well.

  “For heaven’s sake!” I scream. “Get the damn puck.”

  Yes, I’m one of those girls. The kind who hoots and hollers at the television as though someone might hear me. When Ellie and I are together, it’s dangerous.

 

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