I let out a little squeal and clutch his big shoulders.
“Night, Byron,” he calls over his shoulder as he strides down the hall with me in his arms.
I press my face against his shoulder, smiling. “Poor Byron.”
“Poor Byron my ass. He had you all to himself getting hugs and kisses. Now it’s my turn.”
I laugh softly. “You’re jealous of my dog?”
“Damn right I am.” He lowers me so my feet rest on the rug in his bedroom.
I’ve been in here, when I left his laundry. Just in and out. Okay, being perfectly honest, I stood and stared at his huge bed, imagining him in it, naked, wondering what it would be like to be in that bed with him…like that night at the hotel…
Now I’m here, in his room with him, and I’m the object of his rapt attention, his hands moving over me, his eyes studying me, devouring me. He frames my face with his big hands and I melt inside. “So long,” he whispers, kissing my softly. “Wanted this for so long.”
“I thought you hated me.” I slide my hands around his torso, feeling the power in his big body.
“Yeah?” His mouth grazes mine again. “Maybe I did, a bit. Because you left.” Another kiss. “And you were with someone else.” Another stroke of his lips on mine. “And then you were with someone else…and you wanted to be friends…and that pissed me off.” His mouth opens on mine, hot and hard, and I soften against him, my bones liquefying. I grip his ribs and succumb to the pull of danger and possibility and lust.
Our mouths are fused, tongues sliding. I want more, more…all of him.
“I don’t want to be fucking friends,” he gasps long moments later.
I smile at how that sounds. “You don’t want to be friends who fuck?”
“Ha. Not what I meant. At all.” His hands close around the bottom of my sweater, a big, loose turtleneck. He drags it up and over my head. I lift my arms to help and his eyes burn into my skin as he surveys me in front of him in jeans and a black lace bralette.
“This.” He strokes his index finger down the center of my chest. “I remember this. Can’t stop thinking about this.” He cups my breasts and bends his head to kiss the side of my neck. Sizzles slide down my skin, heat pooling low inside me. “So damn beautiful.”
Air burns in my lungs as my eyes fall closed, heat suffusing me. His big, callused hands move over my skin, leaving a trail of sparks, over my ribs and my stomach, around to my back, then down to grip my ass through my jeans.
I find his shirt buttons and work them open one by one, panting as he caresses and kisses me. Finally they’re all open, and I part the shirt so I can get my hands on his chest. “I remember this,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss one pec.
His hand curls around the back of my skull and I keep kissing my way over sleek, hot skin, pushing his shirt back off his shoulders. Then I go to work on his pants, unbuttoning, unzipping…
“Hold on, Sunshine.”
My heart flutters at his name for me.
“Take off your jeans.”
I shimmy out of the tight denim, aware of his heated gaze on me. I stand before him wearing the bralette and a black lace thong.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, standing to shuck his jeans. “Turn around.”
Slowly, I pivot, glancing over my shoulder.
“That ass.” Now naked, he moves up behind me and palms my butt cheeks. “Perfect.” He squeezes. “I remember this ass…” He lays a kiss between my shoulder blades, his lips warm. His hands dip lower, between my thighs. “This pussy…I remember how you taste…”
My legs tremble and he lifts me, turning me toward the bed, then bends me forward so my front is on the mattress. He nudges my legs apart with his knee and his fingers continue their exploration between my legs, petting me, stroking me, sliding through wetness, grazing over my clit and making my body shudder hard. “So wet. That’s hot.”
I make a strangled noise into the duvet on his bed. My insides clench hard. I need more of his touch…I need to come.
He bends over me and bestows a string of slow, open-mouthed kisses up my spine. He sweeps my hair out of the way and ends at my nape, using his teeth lightly in a claiming love bite that sends shivers of delight down my back. A moan trickles from my lips, my eyes closed against the barrage of sensations.
“You smell amazing,” he murmurs near my ear. “God, I just want to consume you.”
A thrill races through me. “Do it.”
His hands grip my ass, then he gives one cheek a little smack. Shock reverberates through me, but my pussy gets even wetter. “Everyone thinks you’re such a sweet, nice girl.”
“Th-they do?”
“Yeah.” He swats my other cheek and heat flashes inside me. “Everly warned me away from you.”
“What?” I push up on my elbows and turn to look at him over my shoulder.
His big hand lands on the center of my back and pushes me down. “She thinks I’m not good enough for you. She’s probably right. But goddamn, I want you.”
“I’m n-not that good,” I stammer.
“You are.” He kisses my shoulder. “You are sweet and good and beautiful. But I know…in the bedroom…you’re as bad as I am.”
My belly clenches and a tiny whine falls from my lips.
“I didn’t tell anyone that,” he growls, nipping again at the tender muscle at the top of my shoulder. “They were pissed at me for going after another guy’s girl.”
I make a noise of protest.
“But I didn’t tell them you came to my room. I didn’t tell them you spent the night and we banged our brains out.”
I want to laugh, but the sound comes out choked. “Should I thank you?”
“Yes.” He swats my butt again. “No.” He drags his hard cock over the crevice between my cheeks in a depraved caress, rubbing it up and down, lower into the liquid accumulating, then back up. “I’m gonna get a condom. And then I’m gonna fuck you.”
He pauses.
He’s waiting for me to object. My heart squeezes. “Yes. Do it.”
“Don’t move.” He fondles my butt, then moves away.
My breath comes in scant puffs and I’m vibrating with desire. Excitement pulses through my veins. I’m hyperaware of the softness of the duvet against my bare skin, the scent of his detergent or fabric softener, the faint sounds of a drawer sliding open and closed, the crinkle of a condom wrapper, his feet padding in heavy steps toward me.
I quiver in anticipation. Then his hands grasp my hips and lift them. The bed is high, but not quite high enough for him. I scramble onto my knees and push my fists into the bed as the head of his cock prods at me. I gasp as he pushes in, intense and distending.
He lays a palm on my lower back and rubs a small circle. “I’ll go easy. Sorry.”
“No. It’s good. So good.” I push back against him invitingly, but he takes his time, easing into me. My body accommodates his girth.
“Yeah. So damn good. So tight and hot around me, holding me.”
I squeeze my inner muscles, just because I can, and he groans and taps my ass again. “Careful, or this’ll be over way too quick.”
“We don’t want that,” I wheeze.
He’s fully seated in me, thick and pulsing, the hair at his groin rough against my ass. His hands curl around my hips as he holds me still, then he moves again, sliding slowly out and back in.
Pleasure pours through me, lighting me up, my body a hot, incandescent glow.
As he moves faster, I bend my arms and fall to the bed again, my head turned to one side, my ass in the air in a decadent pose. His hips smack against me, shaking the bed, jolting my body in a pleasing way.
“Christ,” he mutters. “Watching my cock fuck you…so damn hot.”
I imagine t
he view he has, and my face burns. I’m glad he likes it. I push back up onto straight arms to peer at him over my shoulder. His face is taut, his expression absorbed. He meets my eyes, his burning hot.
“Beautiful,” he mouths.
I need to come. I find my clit and circle it, sensation buzzing through me. I’m so close already, it doesn’t take much. I grab that feeling, the twisting tightness low inside me, grab it and focus on it and press into it, JP’s cock stroking in and out, rasping over a sensitive spot that sends me twirling up and up and up…a swelling, twisting, then bursting feeling swamping me. I cry out helpless, my thighs shaking.
His hands tighten on me, his thumbs digging into my butt cheeks. “Gorgeous,” he groans. “Coming on my cock, all sweet and hot. My turn now…aw, fuck.” He slams against me again and again and again, drawing out my climax almost unbearably. I want to collapse onto the bed, but he’s holding me up, fucking me into oblivion, and then he goes still and taut against me. I feel his cock jerking inside me in potent pulses. I whimper again and slide my fingers into my mouth to stop the noises that want to spill out of me.
He shouts his release, guttural noises of satisfaction and pleasure, and I love it that this feels good for him too.
“Jesus,” he gasps, his hands gentling on me. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” My eyes pop. “Why?”
“That was rough. I got carried away. I don’t want to hurt you.” His hand trails down my back.
I twist to look at him. “You didn’t hurt me. I loved it.”
Our eyes meet, the impact nearly physical, a link of mutual understanding. “Good,” he says gruffly. “Be right back.”
He slides out of me, the disconnection unsettling. I let my weak body flop down and roll to my side, knees drawn up. My breath is still uneven, my nerves still overstimulated. Wow. Just…wow.
JP is back in seconds, lifting me into his arms while he somehow yanks down the covers. He deposits me back onto the bed and climbs in with me, pulling the sheet and duvet up over us and tucking me against him. I sigh with pleasure, every nerve ending in my body suffused with contentment. I give my butt a little wriggle against his groin and he lets out a low rumbling noise. “Careful there, sexy. You could be getting fucked again any minute.”
“Ha,” I scoff. “As if you could get it up again that fast.”
“Are you kidding me?” He tilts his pelvis against me, and damn, his cock is half hard. Still? Or again? “I’m good for more than just a one-timer.”
I burst into giggles. “Good one.”
“Thanks.” He rubs his face against my hair. “Damn, baby. You’re so hot.”
His arms are big and strong around me. I feel safe and secure. I feel like I’m where I belong.
“I never had sex with Anthony,” I blurt out. Fuck. I close my eyes.
He goes immobile momentarily, his hand stilling where it’s caressing my stomach. Then he relaxes and lets out a soft laugh. “Good to know.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I add hastily.
“True.” He kisses my shoulder. “Still…good to know.”
He said he’d wanted me for so long…but he thought I was dating Manny…and then I was dating Anthony. Deep inside me, it’s not a surprise. I feel that tug every time we’re around each other…I can’t stop looking at him, and I catch him looking at me. I feel the heat. It’s probably why things never worked with Anthony. Instead of fantasizing about him and wanting to bone him, I was thinking about JP, remembering how hot it was being with him. Even though I thought he was a jerk who stole his brother’s girlfriend.
“How was your family dinner?”
“The usual. Lots of squabbling. Grandpa’s not happy Everly’s dating an older guy. We debated feminism. They took every opportunity to remind me I’m a shithead for stealing my brother’s girlfriend.”
“But you didn’t!”
“It was still a stupid thing to do.” His voice is low and rough. “I didn’t steal her. Or intend to steal her. But I should have stayed far away from her. She was my brother’s ex.” He blows out a gusty breath that stirs my hair. “To be honest…it kinda stroked my ego that she was interested in me and not Théo. When we were kids, everyone liked Théo. He was smart and hardworking…well behaved. I…wasn’t.”
“Shock.” I smile and rub his arm. I feel a pinch at the back of my throat, thinking of young JP trying to live up to his big brother’s image. I agree that he shouldn’t have dated his brother’s ex, but I understand this.
“I tend to act on my feelings. Sometimes I don’t think things through.”
I let that process. “Like when you’re playing hockey?”
He huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I’ve made some mistakes on the ice too. I’m…trying to do better.”
I shift and turn to face him. He adjusts his arms around me but doesn’t let go. Our heads on the pillows, our eyes meet. “How are you trying?”
“That’s why I’ve been coming to yoga class. A way to deal with stress and pressure.”
I nod. “That’s good.”
“I’m trying really hard to think before I act.” He pauses. “Which is why I stayed away from you.”
I suck briefly on my bottom lip. “I get it.” The whole time I’d been with Anthony, trying to forget about JP, he was exercising his self-control to stay away from me. I swallow down a wave of sadness that we wasted time.
“I should probably still be staying away from you,” he adds.
I blink. “Why?”
He strokes a fingertip down my cheek and over my bottom lip. My heart skips a beat. “Because you’re a good girl and I’m not a good guy.”
“That’s not true.”
He snorts. “Yeah. It is.”
His eyes shift away, but I see a hint of vulnerability in them. Now it’s my turn to touch his face, brushing my fingertips over the stubble on his jaw. “I don’t think you’re such a bad guy, JP Wynn. I think you’re…complicated.”
His gaze slides back to me, glowing with a blue flame. “Thank you.” He leans in to kiss me, and it’s soft and warm and…lovely. Softness fills my chest and I rub my palm over his cheek, and then the kiss turns carnal and deep. Fierce.
I’m here for it. Our mouths and tongues meet and slide, hands exploring, and he moves over me to kiss his way down to my breasts. Cupping them, he admires them, then slowly pulls one nipple into his mouth. My head goes back as bliss spears through me. “These are gorgeous,” he mutters. “All of you is gorgeous, but your tits are amazing.” He plays and sucks and nibbles until I’m a writhing mess of sensation beneath him, my hips lifting with an unrelenting ache that needs to be satisfied.
And he does satisfy me.
When we’re lying in the dark, wrapped in each other’s arms, I’m drowsy and filled with a delicious languor.
I always believed in love. A big, beautiful, everything kind of love that glows and grows and never ends. I wanted to find love like that. I’ve tried with so many men. It just hasn’t happened for me.
I have to admit my parents’ separation has shaken me. If a couple I thought was rock solid and in love for so many years ends up not making it, what is the point of even trying? Does everyone eventually get tired of each other?
Right now, though, this man—I’m so attracted to him. Not only that, I’ve gotten to like him, despite my misgivings about being with him. Yes, he can be brash and mocking. Yes, he can be quick-tempered, and yes, I’ve seen him fight. But I’ve also seen how gentle and caring he is with Byron. How easy and lighthearted he is with his friends. He has a wicked sense of humor that makes me laugh, and despite that cocky attitude he throws off, it genuinely bothers him that he’s let down people he cares about. He’s trying t
o be better.
He’s a hockey player. He could be traded and disappear at any moment, like Bobby, who used to live in this triplex, and who I may have had a little crush on, and Manny. That is absolutely bad odds for establishing a lasting relationship. But maybe I’ve been naïve trying to find love and a lasting relationship. Maybe I should just be looking for what I want…right now. And right now, I want JP.
Chapter 17
JP
I’m not a forever kind of guy.
Taylor deserves a forever guy. Everly was right to warn me off her. We shouldn’t have spent the night together, laughing, sharing stories about our pasts, and yeah, fucking. But goddamn my weak impulse control…I can’t resist her even though I know I should.
I’m a fucking failure. My goal this year has been to make better decisions and I just failed.
And I’m going to fail again, because Taylor’s off work today. We have a practice this morning and then the rest of the day off. Tomorrow Vancouver’s in town, but after practice she’s all mine for the day.
We part ways in the elevator, where she gets off to go outside to the visitor parking. I smooch her lips. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”
She smiles. “Okay.”
I continue down to the underground parking where my Jag is. After practice, I’ll come home and get Byron, then pick up Taylor to head to the beach for a long walk and maybe some sightseeing. Like tourists.
After having Thanksgiving off everyone’s a little sluggish, and Uncle Mark doesn’t appreciate that. Probably crusty from the family dinner last night that turned into a shit show, he’s on the ice barking out commands. “Come on, guys! You’re all fat and lazy from too much turducken!”
I exchange a glance with Dutch. Turducken? Where the hell did that come from?
“Let’s fuckin’ practice!” he yells, lifting his arms.
“He needs to get laid,” Dutch mutters.
My eyebrows fly up and my eyes swing over to Uncle Mark. Fuck, I hope he didn’t hear that, or Dutch’ll be riding the pine tomorrow night.
He doesn’t react and I breathe out with relief, pick up a puck, and skate in on net, drilling the puck into the net past Mac.
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