Benched: Gold Hockey Book 4

by Elise Faber

  He nodded. “Yes. I mean it, too. I’m sorry if I moved too fast. This is all about you—”

  Mischief crept into those pretty brown eyes. “Max?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to know what I was really thinking when I invited you inside?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “I was thinking about how much I wanted you to come”—he frowned, wondering if nerves were making her repeat herself. Then he heard the rest of her words and they froze him in place, rocking him to the core—“inside of me.”

  Max blinked, stunned stupid.

  Her blush picked up again. “I—uh—never mind. It’s—”

  What was that about not being an idiot before? Well, stupid was apparently a different story because it took him precious seconds to gather his wits and react.

  He snagged Angie’s wrist when she turned away and he stepped close, her back to his front. His cock ached, every cell in his body screamed at him to lift up her dress, drop to his knees, and make her scream out his name.

  Instead, he traced gentle fingers down the bare skin of her arms, loving the way she shivered, how goose bumps prickled to life there. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

  She inhaled shakily, ass shifting and brushing his dick, making stars shoot behind his lids.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure.”

  And so, Max did what he’d been dreaming about since the previous summer, the fantasy that had been swimming in his mind from the moment he’d seen Angie in her dress.

  He spun her around and kissed her with every ounce of his desire.

  Twenty-Three

  Angie

  Good.

  That was the single thought she could muster.

  Everything Max was doing just felt good.

  He led her over to the couch, sat down and tugged her down into his lap, all while still kissing her. He kissed her until she ran out of breath, until she pulled back to gasp in oxygen, and even then, he still kissed her, only this time his mouth was on her cheek, her jaw, her throat.

  She shivered when he traced his tongue across the tops of her collarbones, gooseflesh erupting all over her body.

  “Oh,” she gasped when his tongue dipped into the low V of her dress.

  He paused, brushed one finger across her cheekbone, and waited until she looked at him. “Hi,” he said, lips curving.

  Angie sucked in a breath, trying to settle herself when every nerve in her body seemed to be on fire. “Are we doing this again?”

  He cracked a smile. “Maybe.” He cupped her jaw. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “I’ve never done this before,” she blurted and watched as his face clouded, as he started to pull back. It was only then that she realized how he’d taken her words. “No,” she said, cupping his jaw. “Max. I meant, I’ve had sex before”—with three people because she did not count the person who’d assaulted her in that number—“I just meant, I’ve never felt like this before. Never been this attracted, this attached so quickly. And I’ve never jumped into bed with a man this soon.”

  His expression darkened. “We don’t have to do this,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be this soon. Let’s go to the movie, to dinner. Let’s spend some more time getting to know each other—”

  She kissed him. “Don’t you see? For the first in my life, I’m not scared and sitting on the sidelines. I want to leap.” Her heart was pounding, but not from fear or anxiety. It raced because she wanted him.

  “With you,” she murmured, shifting so instead of sitting sideways on his lap, she was straddling him. “I want to take that leap with you, Max.”

  He swallowed hard. “You’re sure?”

  “You silly, sweet, wonderful man.” Her smile was wide; she knew it was. But dammit, she just liked him so much. “I’m sure.” A pause. “But know that you still owe me a date at some point.”

  His mouth quirked. “Deal,” he said. “And it needs to include the movie. Frankly, it’s a miracle that I’ve avoided spoilers this long anyway.”

  She was unreasonably happy.

  Well, not unreasonably since she was with Max, but still giddy and excited and—he shifted underneath her, the hard length of his erection beneath his pants the best kind of tease.

  “Deal?”

  “I can get behind that.” He raised a brow, and her cheeks went pink as she processed what she’d said. Rolling her eyes, she smacked him lightly on the chest. “You know what I mean.”

  “Maybe.” He slid one hand down her spine then lower, cupping her ass and tugging her so she was flush against his cock. “Because I could also get behind this.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, she bit back a moan.

  Then another when his hand kept moving, drifting over the side of her hip, down to grip the outside of her thigh. Hot, hot fingers and his eyes—those gorgeous blue eyes—went liquid with desire.

  “Max,” she breathed.

  Those fingers shifted inward, and she inadvertently squeezed her thighs together, wanting them higher, wanting them to slip beneath her underwear and—

  “I know,” he said, voice rough. “I know.”

  “When do you—?” She cleared her throat. “When do you think you’re going to kiss me again?”

  The words had barely crossed her lips before his mouth was on hers. This time, it wasn’t a gentle touch. It was demanding and intense and made moisture pool between her thighs. One second, she was turned on and the next, she was weak and shaky with need, desperate for him to be inside her.

  She shifted, rubbing herself against his cock, making them both groan in pleasure. Her dress shifted up her legs, exposing the black silk of her panties.

  “So fucking sexy,” he growled, tearing his mouth away and flipping her in a motion that was so quick she let out a little shriek. Somehow, she ended up with her back against the couch cushions, dress rucked up, legs spread wide, and Max kneeling between her thighs.

  Holy fucking shit.

  He kissed one ankle then the other, teasing his fingers up her calves, drifting to the backs of her knees. A nip to the skin just inside her left thigh that made her jump before his tongue darted out to soothe the small hurt, and then he was shifting, dragging his tongue higher and higher until he stopped just on the outside of her panties. He inhaled deeply. “I can’t wait to taste this,” he said and pressed a kiss against her pussy.

  The slight roughness of the lace combined with the damp heat of his mouth sent Angie’s desire skyrocketing. She arched off the cushions, gripping Max’s hair with both hands, trying to grind closer, to let him taste her.

  He steadied her with his hands on her hips, pinning her down onto the couch as he took his time, slowly kissing along the hem of her underwear, occasionally darting his tongue under the lace and teasing her with frustrating little caresses until she was all but ready to tear his hair out, if only that meant he would get his tongue inside her faster.

  She pulled, and not too gently.

  Max froze, not moving his mouth away from her, the heat of his breath against her pussy an entirely new type of aphrodisiac. He raised one brow.

  “Underwear off,” she demanded, though the order was weakened by the fact that she was puffing like a locomotive, so she added, “Now.”

  The smile he shot her should have melted the offending garment right off her thighs. Instead, the only thing it did was make her stomach flutter and more moisture pool between her legs. She could feel the slick heat of her starting to soak through her panties, and apparently Max could as well because he slid a finger over the top of her pussy then held up the glistening digit for her to see.

  “So. Fucking. Hot,” he told her and sucked it into his mouth.

  She’d shuddered at his touch, but when he tasted her? Yeah, that desire exploded, threatening to incinerate her from the inside out.

  Rip.

  Angie gasped, the abrasion of lace tearing against her skin made her squirm.

  Rip.

  Another inhalat
ion and the show of strength as he effortlessly tore the other side had her spreading her thighs, lifting her pelvis toward his mouth.

  He grinned, flicked his tongue out for the tiniest tease, and Angie thought he was going to keep on tormenting her, rationing out those little frustrating touches. But then he dove at her, pressing his mouth firmly against her pussy and giving her the best kiss of her life. His tongue circled her clit, firm then gentle, firm then gentle, bringing her higher and higher until he backed off, moving down and thrusting his tongue inside her. The pad of his thumb took over on her clit, and the slightly roughened callouses were a whole new form of torment.

  And pleasure.

  And torment.

  “No,” she groaned, lifting her hips, wanting more, desperate for more. “I need—”

  She broke off, so fucking turned on and yet not exactly knowing what she needed.

  But Max seemed to know, even if she didn’t understand it herself, because he slipped a finger inside her, tongue and hand switching places, then moved both faster, more firmly until she was writhing on the couch desperate for release.

  “Fuck,” she huffed. “That’s so—”

  He slipped a second finger inside her.

  She screamed.

  He flatted his tongue and circled her clit.

  And this time she couldn’t scream, the orgasm stole all her breath, took her ability to speak, to think, to do anything except ride the wave of pleasure all the way down the other side.

  Her head plunked back against the couch cushions, white lights flashing behind her lids. “Fuck.”

  “Mmm.” Max’s nuzzling made her jump, her eyes darting open.

  He had the start of a beard, and the strands had darkened from . . . her.

  The sight made that tremble start again, the one low in her stomach, in between her thighs, and her pussy clenched, satisfied and yet not. Because while the orgasm had threatened to burn her to ash, Max still wasn’t inside of her.

  “My bedroom is just down the hall,” she said and not sure that she could navigate the distance in her heels, she bent to slip them off.

  His hands gripped hers. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking my shoes off.”

  “They hurting you?”

  She frowned, shook her head. Despite them being tall, they were one of the most comfortable pairs of heels she owned. “No.”

  “Then leave them on.”

  “Why—?”

  The heat in his gaze stopped the rest of her question, and his rapid movement to sweep her up into his arms, pressing her firmly against his chest, the heat of him, the smell, the power stole any and all logical thoughts. Especially when he told her, “I want those heels digging into my back as I slide home, Angel. I want you to use them like spurs to prod me like a fucking horse as I pound into you. I want—”

  She kissed him as he walked, kissed him as he pushed open the door to her bedroom, kissed him as he tossed her onto the mattress.

  Because the words were so fucking hot, but they were also too much.

  She needed him in her. Now. With less talking.

  “Hurry,” she said when they finally broke for air and reached into her cleavage to pull out the condom she’d stashed there earlier. “Please, Max. I need you inside me.”

  He took it from her and ordered, “Turn over.”

  Angie didn’t even consider not obeying, she flipped to her hands and knees, not caring what position Max wanted to take her in, so long as she was taken. But instead of him pushing up her skirt and thrusting home, one palm pressed to the small of her back, coaxing her to lie on her stomach.

  The cold metal of the zipper met her skin then started to slowly move down her spine, hot lips trailing in its wake.

  “Max—”

  “Shh,” he murmured. “We have all night.”

  The zipper stopped just at the top of her ass, and he spread the fabric wide, running those roughened fingertips along her back, making her shiver for the umpteenth time, making her hips shoot up to grind against the hard length of him.

  They both groaned at the contact, but Max didn’t stop touching her. Instead, he slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders then gently began massaging the tight muscles along her spine.

  “The condom,” she said. “You can just—”

  “That condom isn’t going to fit me, Angel.”

  “Wh—what?”

  “Shh.” He chuckled and began kissing down her back, tugging her dress off as he went. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the motion teased her nipples, abrading the hardened points against the cotton. Her breath caught, a moan escaping her lips.

  Then the dress was sliding down her hips, over her ankles to land silently on the carpet.

  “Angel.”

  It was curse, benediction, and prayer all in one.

  “Max. Please.”

  “Patience, sweetheart,” he said, dropping his hands to her ankles and slowly massaging his way up.

  “Are you”—a gasp as those fingers dipped between her thighs—“this focused on the ice?”

  A nip to each cheek—and not the ones on her face. “More.”

  She shuddered when he spread her legs wide and blew a stream of hot air on her center. “I don’t think I can survive more,” she said, legs trying to close against the wide berth of his shoulders.

  His voice was wicked. “Oh, I think you can.”

  Max licked her, she screamed, and he showed her that she could, in fact, survive more.

  Twenty-Four

  Max

  He kissed his way up a limp Angie and gently rolled her to her back.

  “Did I kill you?”

  Her eyes were closed, her hair a mess, and she’d never been more beautiful. “Uh-huh.”

  He grinned, gaze drifting down to her chest. “I haven’t even gotten to your breasts yet.” And they were fucking perfect breasts, round, with perfect-sized nipples that his mouth ached to taste.

  She groaned, flopped her head from side to side. “I can’t move.”

  Max chuckled. “You just did.”

  “Semantics.” Her lips curved.

  “Just lie back and think of England,” he told her, dragging his mouth down her throat and toward her breasts. Fingers slid into his hair, held him in place. “No?”

  Her lids peeled back, eyes having darkened to espresso with desire. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “It’s not fair you’re fully dressed, so get naked first.” Angie licked her lips. “Then you can kiss me anywhere you want.”

  Impossibly, Max’s cock somehow got harder. “That means I’d have to get off you.”

  “It means you’d be naked.”

  “Fair point.” He pushed off the bed, stripped down in record time, then was back on top of her. Now they were both naked, and it was everything.

  “Hi,” she said as he cupped her jaw.

  He pressed his mouth to hers, pulled back, and smiled. “Hi.”

  “Kiss me again,” she said. “But this time with more tongue.”

  He laughed, but fuck if he was going to deny her anything, least of all that. And so, he kissed her, sliding his tongue between her lips, moaning when she tangled her tongue with his. Fuck, but she tasted like heaven. Then Angie slid her hand down his chest and grabbed his cock.

  Lights flashed behind his lids, a groan bubbled up in his throat, and he thrust his hips forward.

  “I can’t kiss you,” he said, pulling back with another groan, “if you keep doing that.”

  “You’ve discovered my evil plan to get your penis in my vagina.”

  He laughed. Despite the fact that his cock felt as though it would break in half, despite the fact that he was all but shaking with the need to take her, despite his desire to make it so fucking good for Angie—not only because she deserved it, but also because it had been too damned long since he’d slept with a woman and he knew that once he was inside of her, he was at high risk of bl
owing his load like a seventeen-year-old boy—despite all of that, somehow she had him laughing.

  “You’re amazing,” he told her.

  “I’m not,” she said, then put her fingers over his lips when he would have argued. “I don’t think I’m special. I’m just . . . me. But I do think it’s amazing you think of me that way.” She paused, head tilting to the side. “Now, that’s a lot of thinks.”

  He grinned. “Now that sounds like a line from a Dr. Seuss book.”

  “Spoken like a single dad—” Her eyes widened as she broke off. “Oh God. I didn’t even think of Brayden. Is he going to be okay with—”

  He nipped her fingertips still covering his mouth before pressing a kiss there to soothe the tiny hurt. “He asked me to find him a new mom.” And then he hurried to add when her eyes widened, presumably in panic, “Not that we’re anywhere near there yet. I’m just telling you so you know that he’s open to me dating someone.”

  Her brows pulled down. “Is your ex—?”

  “I’m naked, and you have your hand on my cock,” he said. “I don’t really want to talk about my ex-wife.”

  Angie’s cheeks went pink, and her hand started to let go.

  He placed his palm over hers, keeping it in place. “My ex gave up her rights. Just signed them away without a fight. It was shitty and fucked up, but Brayden and I are okay now.”

  “You’re a good dad,” she said.

  Max shrugged. “I don’t know about that. There are so many things I should have done differently, but—”

  “It’s just you and Brayden, now.”

  His lips twitched. “And Barf-monster McGee.”

  “Poor Sparky.”

  “Poor me,” he teased. “I’m naked and hard, and a woman seems to be intent on torturing me.”

  She stroked her hand up and down the length of him. “Hmm. How can I fix that?”

  “I have an idea.” He bent, rested his forehead to hers. “But I also want you to know that there’s room in our lives for one more. If it gets to that point.”

  Her eyes softened. “Thank you.” A pause. “So, can we have sex now?”

  He burst out laughing . . . at least until she squeezed him tightly, stroking him from tip to base. Then his control vanished, and he forgot all intentions for taking it slow.