by Avery Flynn
She looked up at him, the sweet understanding on her face making his chest tight. “I’m not following.”
“The front office figured the video was proof that we weren’t a cohesive team. Trading someone made sense to them, and Petrov wasn’t supposed to make it back to the lineup for another few months. Any team that got him would be excited enough to sacrifice a few draft picks because once he got healthy, he’d be an animal on the ice.” Guilt twisted his gut. “The thing is, there wasn’t another team in the league that Petrov wanted to play for like he wanted to play for the Ice Knights.”
“Then you ended up on Bramble to fix it, probably without ever telling him.” She straightened, twisting in his lap so her face was only inches from his, her look fierce. “That’s not being a fuckup; that’s accepting responsibility and making amends. That’s a helluva lot better of a reason than why I ended up on the app and my whole clear the cobwebs line.” She groaned and closed her eyes, her cheeks turning pink. “I’m gonna kill Gemma one of these days for letting me hit send on that. There is such a thing as the girl code. Then she taunts me with that stupid bet.”
“What bet?”
Her pink cheeks turned a deep red. “The one where I bet her I would not have sex with you. But the thing is…” She braced her hands on his shoulders and did a spin move on his lap so she was straddling him. “I think I need to take your advice from earlier.”
His hands automatically went to her hips, pulling her hard against him. “What’s that?”
She leaned forward, teasing him with her nearness. “To try something just for fun.”
A million things went through his mind, but thank God his body took over, and he threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head, and brought her in for a kiss because for once she was going to let go and live in the now.
Chapter Fifteen
Zara knew she was probably making a mistake, but kissing Caleb, feeling him against her, rocking her core against him, all of it felt too good for her to change her mind now even if she’d wanted to—and she very much did not. This was what she’d been thinking about since he’d shown up at the park for their date today. She’d taken one look at him in his perfect-fitting jeans and T-shirt that stretched snugly over his muscular chest and her breath had caught. Then, they’d had dinner and her heart had shuffled and skipped. And when he’d opened up to her, trusted her? That was it. She was a goner. There was no turning back. She might only have him until the end of their next date, but she was going to fall into the moment and for once in her life let go of what was next.
Hands in his hair and her mouth on his in a kiss that had her reaching for more already, she moved against him, hating the layers of clothing between them. It had been bad enough the other night when only he’d been dressed. Having both of them like this was unbearable.
Planting her hands on his chest, she pushed herself back, not stopping until her feet were on the floor. “We have to go inside or Mrs. Cooper across the way will call the cops. I’m surprised she hasn’t already.”
The woman was infamous on the block for calling Harbor City’s finest at even the hint of a disturbance. Two naked people going at it on a balcony would definitely end up in a call from Mrs. Cooper.
Instead of letting her go, Caleb slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt. “If we were at my house in Waterbury, there’s not a neighbor who could see us.”
She grabbed his wrist, halting his progress before she lost all sense. “Well, unless you want to wait until we’re across the harbor to get me naked again, then I suggest we go inside right now.”
“Naked again” seemed to be the magic words.
His eyes darkened with desire. “Excellent plan.”
Caleb went in first, and when she climbed over the window, extending her leg as far as she could so she almost touched the floor in her living room, he scooped her up and carried her across the room. Anchovy, thinking it was a game, started hop-walking around them, letting out a playful bark as they made their way to her bedroom. Once inside the area behind the room divider bookshelves, Caleb turned a circle.
“No door?” he asked.
“It’s a studio,” she said, kissing her way up the side of his neck. “There are no doors.”
Caleb looked over at Anchovy. “What are we going to do about him?”
“Put me down for a second.”
Caleb looked like he was about to argue, but smart man that he was, he thought better of trying to get his two cents in. The second she was standing, she waved Anchovy to the other side of the bookshelves, then pulled a baby gate from behind her dresser and set it up so it was leaning against the shelves in front of the opening that served as her bedroom door.
Caleb took one look at the gate leaning against the shelves, then glanced over at Anchovy, who could easily step over it or knock it down.
“He won’t do it,” she said. “He’s scared of the gate.”
As if to prove her point, the dog lowered his ears, dropped his tail in dejection, and let out a sad whine before turning around and heading over to his bed. Turning, she walked back to Caleb, wanting to touch him everywhere at once, as if giving herself permission to be with him had unleashed a floodgate of want.
However, he kept looking toward the gate. “Are you sure that’ll work?”
“Afraid Anchovy will come get you in a delicate moment?” It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. There was a reason, after all, that she’d developed the gate trick.
Any thought of anyone else scattered when Caleb picked her up and carried her over to the bed, laying her down on it. “Zara, honey, there’s nothing delicate about me.”
She lay down on the bed, turning on her side to face him and propping up her head on her hand. “Why don’t you show me? You’ve been teasing long enough.”
He reached behind his head, pulling his T-shirt off in one fluid motion. Running his hands down his chest, over his washboard abs, and down to the button of his jeans, he never looked away from her.
“Should I keep going?”
The idea of him stopping now was like being told the world’s entire chocolate supply had vanished. “Yes please.”
“So polite for someone who wants to see me naked so badly.” He flipped off his shoes and unbuttoned his jeans.
The work his poor zipper was doing at that moment bordered on heroic—or at least it would if she hadn’t wanted it to fail. She sat up, no longer able to even pretend at nonchalance when her entire body was practically vibrating with lust. She wet her lips with her tongue and watched as he tugged that zipper down. Slowly. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t blink; the thought of missing even a second had her wound up tight, her hands clutching at her bedspread so she wouldn’t touch herself—at least not yet.
And just when she thought she was going to make it, he dropped his hand away from his now-open zipper and walked toward her, his strides solid and bold. He stopped just out of reach.
She looked up at him, all solid muscle and cocksure attitude. “You are not nice.”
“Never said I was.” He didn’t even crack a smile. The man was as close to the edge of his self-control as she was. “If you want to keep going, you have to take them off.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t a one-person show.” He cupped her chin, the pad of his thumb grazing her bottom lip, dipping inside her mouth, and retreating. “Not for me. Not for you.” He leaned down, delivering a brief, hard kiss before straightening back up. “We’re in this together.”
Heart pounding loud enough that she was surprised he couldn’t hear it, she reached out, hooked her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs, and pulled them down. Damn, he was glorious. There was nothing miniaturized about him. Hard and smooth, his cock was like the rest of him, almost too much and just the right amount at the same time.
She wrapped her hand around his width, stroking up and down his length, testing the pace and her grip. When she sped
up just a bit, she was rewarded with a hiss of pleasure from him and a few drops of pre-cum on his tip. Using her thumb, she smoothed it around, then dipped her head and took him in her mouth.
“Zara, holy shit, that feels amazing.”
She reached down, lower, cupping his balls as she took him in deep and shallow over and over again, loving the feel of him, until he stepped back.
“I’d like to take my time with you tonight, but I can’t promise that this first time.”
She swallowed. Hard. “First?”
“If you think we’re stopping with one, then you have the wrong guy, because I’m going to fuck you until you are wrung out, satisfied, and too dick drunk to ask for one more orgasm.”
“I’ve heard promises before.” She was going for unimpressed, but it came out breathy and hungry even to her own ears.
“Well, I deliver,” he said, his voice low and the best kind of dangerous. “Now get those clothes off.”
…
Caleb was going to die from lack of oxygen going to his brain, right here in the next thirty seconds. He was okay with that as long as he got to touch her first.
That was as close as he could come to processing the feeling of watching Zara strip. That night when he’d fallen asleep on her couch? That had been a rush of lust so strong it had swept both of them along. Tonight couldn’t be like that. It needed to be deliberate. He wasn’t joking when he’d said this was about them. He’d meant every word.
Her chin high, her eyes daring him, she raised the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. All the air he didn’t realize he still had in his lungs came out in a whoosh. Reaching behind her, she unsnapped her bra, letting it fall away and giving him a view of her full tits, dotted with freckles, tipped with stiff nipples he couldn’t wait to touch. Next came her jeans. She stood up and made fast work of those, kicking them off so they went sailing across the room, landing with a soft thump near her closet. Still watching him, a coy smile playing at her lips because she knew exactly what she was doing to him, she slid her thumbs under the waistband of her black panties and started to lower them.
“Wait,” he said, blood pounding in his ears.
She cocked her head to the side but paused.
“I’ve been thinking about this since you sent that picture.”
Smoothing her hands over the black lace, she let her touch linger against her hips. “You liked that one?”
He moved behind her, pressing close so that his cock was against the small of her back. “You know the answer to that.”
Reaching around, he cupped her tits, taking her nipples between his fingers and rolling them, tugging them. As he continued his explorations, moving from her tits, to the small of her waist, to the flare of her hips, he listened for the changes in her response, circling back to repeat the things that had her mewling with pleasure and arching into his touch. Listening to her, feeling her respond, sent a rush through him that turned his dick to iron. It was good, so fucking good, but it wasn’t enough.
Without letting go, he nudged her toward the extended edge of her platform bed that stuck out a few inches past her mattress. “Step up.”
Her cheeks were flush and her eyes hazy when she shot him a questioning look over her shoulder, but she did it. The move brought her up half a foot, bringing their bodies more in line. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back until she was firm against him, his dick nestled against the firm curve of her ass.
Dipping his head so his lips were against the sensitive spot behind her ear, he kissed her. “I’ve got you.”
Then he slid his fingers under the lace of her panties. Her breath hitched when he parted her tight curls and didn’t start again until he brushed over the hard tip of her clit.
“You’re so wet for me.” He kept his voice low, each word coming out ragged because he was a man on the verge of losing it. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—yet. “Is this what you like, me touching you like this?”
“So good.” She laid her head back against him and widened her stance.
He glided his fingers lower, exploring her soft folds and noting when she tensed, when she went slack, and when she let out a strained “fuck yes.” Tuning in to her was like the best part of being out on the ice before a game—it was all possibility and anticipation. Sinking a finger inside her slick entrance, he curled it forward, pressing and rubbing against the bundle of nerves there while he used his thumb to circle and press against her clit.
“Caleb.” Her hands reached back, grabbing his thighs. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
Her breath came in quicker bursts as her body grew tense against him. She was there, close, her hips thrusting forward to meet his fingers. But on the next breath, things changed. It wasn’t a lot: it was a subtle relaxing in her shoulders, a deepening of her breath. Determined not to let this moment go without satisfying her, he adjusted his arm—still keeping her safe from falling but now he could cup her tits, which was exactly what he did.
…
Zara ached; her entire body was primed, but it felt like there was an entire ocean of space between her and her orgasm and with every breath she was inching further and further back. And just when she was about to give up, accept the other night as a fluke, Caleb moved just enough to cup her breast, tugging her nipple taut as he kissed his way down the back of her neck.
It was like he was everywhere at once, hitting multiple pleasure points and drowning out the constant hum of you’re-not-gonna-get-there that was always just under the surface. Sensations rocketed through her, and she dug her fingers into the unyielding muscles of his thighs and rocked against the hard length of him pressing against her ass.
The tight ball of pure electricity in her belly started small, growing with each brush of his thumb on her clit, each in-and-out plunge of his fingers inside her, each nip of his teeth against that spot where her shoulder met her neck, and each pleasurable roll of her nipple between his fingers. It was nearly too much for her body to take at one time, but she gave in to it, let it wash over her. She couldn’t plan her next move, couldn’t wonder about the sounds she was making, couldn’t think about the grocery list—the way he was touching her overwhelmed all of that. Vibrations of pure pleasure racked her body as she rode his fingers higher and higher until the tide rushed back and her orgasm exploded inside her in a sizzling burst of energy that made her cry out.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said, his breath coming almost as hard as her own.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, and part of her just wanted to collapse onto the bed, but tonight was far from over. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She didn’t answer. How in the hell was she supposed to put into words what it was like to come back from resignation that her lot in life was to be non-solo-orgasm free? Once was a fluke. Twice had promise. If it happened again, that was a pattern, and she was fucking here for that—but not alone.
Turning on the edge of the platform to face Caleb, she cupped his face in her hands, kissing him, demanding—needing—more. Breaking the kiss, she glided her hands over his body, loving the way his flat nipples puckered at her touch, the hiss of a groan when she wrapped her hand around his cock again.
“Please tell me you have a condom.”
“You’re not the only planner,” he said with a grin. “I brought several.”
Without another word, he stepped back, grabbed his jeans from the floor, took out a three-pack from his pocket, and tossed them on the bed. “Lose the panties.”
Maybe it was an orgasm aftershock, maybe it was just the way he’d said that, but her body reacted with a tightening in her belly and a warm flood of desire through her.
He stalked toward her, muscles undulating and intensity coming off him in waves. “I’ve spent almost every moment when I wasn’t on skates thinking about this. I know exactly what I want to do next.”
“Do tell.” She had no ide
a how she’d managed to string two words together when he was looking at her like that, but she did it.
He stopped, a wicked grin not doing a damn thing to lessen the sexual ferocity surrounding him. “Showing you is better.” He wrapped one hand around his cock. “Take off your panties and lay down on your back.”
There was something in the demanding way he said it with that almost growl that sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. She got rid of her panties and lay back, legs spread, pussy aching to be touched again already. He didn’t move, didn’t rush to put on the condom and fuck her senseless. Instead, he stayed where he was, watching as if he had to memorize every bit of her.
“Are you just going to look?” she asked, the first shades of uncertainty raising the doubts and worries in her mind.
He moved his hand in a slow stroke up and down his length. “Show me how you touch yourself.”
She hesitated, but only for the briefest of seconds before something in the way he looked at her settled her mind, and she reached for her clit and rubbed slow circles around it before slipping down and sinking two fingers inside. He let out a harsh breath, his face hard as he watched, his hand still moving at that slow pace up and down his cock. Then, just when she thought he was only going to watch her play with herself, he closed the distance between them, dropping to his knees between her splayed legs.
“Don’t stop,” he said, his voice low and reverent. “I want to lick you while you do that. Is that okay?”
She nodded, and the second his tongue touched her while she was rubbing her clit, her toes curled. Then he started to kiss and lick her in a solid, slow rhythm, and she knew he was jacking his cock while eating her, and her thighs started to vibrate.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he said, his words teasing her sensitive flesh.
He reached up with his free hand, spreading her wide, opening her up to him as she strained closer and closer to the edge again. Her fingers flying on her clit, his tongue going at a more leisurely pace while the movement of him rocking against her while he stroked himself pushed her right over into the abyss, and she came, her hips rocketing off the bed as her entire body went rigid with pleasure.