Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Just tell him he was amazing, I thought, watching as he walked over. He’s not going to be happy about the loss. But there were so many great plays he made—
The moment he came up to my side, I was ready and loaded with compliments.
“That was incredible. Your control—”
Before I could finish my sentence, though, he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.
Blood rushed to my cock all at once.
I drew in a sharp breath against his lips as he dipped me slightly backward, one of his hands sliding to the back of my head, his fingers nestling in my hair.
It was a tight kiss, his tongue sliding out against mine.
“I don’t want to talk about the game,” he said in a soft whisper near my lips as he pulled off for a second.
His eyes looked like fire. Behind the beautiful green was some sort of passionate urgency, like he’d wished everything had gone differently.
Was he always this disappointed to lose a game? Or… was this something more?
“But you played like a fucking animal.”
“And I didn’t win,” he said in a low tone, regret flooding out in his tone. His eyes dipped lower to look at my lips, and he let his hand slide down over my chest and stomach, landing on one of my belt loops and giving it a quick tug to pull me closer.
“So what?”
His eyes flashed to meet mine again. “You know what.”
I swallowed. “So you’ll just have to suck my cock instead.”
He paused, letting my words hang in the air, tormenting me with silence as I slowly started to harden under his gaze.
That was my own little Hail Mary.
Not that I thought it was going to work.
He was quiet for a second, and I saw the same look I’d seen on his face before, where he gets all calculating and curious for a while and I fucking lose my mind waiting to hear his reaction.
I stared back out at the empty ice, where a guy was cruising around on a… Zanloni? Zoombini? Whatever the fuck I’d heard people calling it earlier. I watched it make slow, curved circles on the ice, where Jesse had been a total menace, just a little while ago.
Zamboni. Right. Because the girls near me were joking about a Halloween costume where they’d been in a skeleton suit and called it “zam-boney.”
I glanced back at Jesse. He had been looking down, his thumb moving gently over a bruise on his arm that he must have gotten during the game.
Fuck, please say something.
When he finally spoke, I was stoked into a frenzy, trying so hard to seem like I was cool and collected.
“When you sent me that text earlier, I was in the locker room,” he said. “I didn’t have time to reply, but… I was going to tell you no.”
I sucked in a breath. “I understand.”
His eyes were so soulful and so pretty I wanted to die right about now.
I wanted him so fucking badly.
But I’d missed my chance, and now he was pulling back. I respected it, even if I wanted to kick myself.
His voice was low. “I think we both know the reasons why we shouldn’t do anything physical together—”
I nodded fast, looking down. “Right. Yep. Can’t blame me for trying, though.”
“—but then I fucking changed my mind.”
I felt each beat of my heart when I glanced back up at him. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, then let it go.
“God, you are going to ruin me,” I said, my breath a low whisper.
“Come with me.”
His hand clasped around mine. My heart was still pounding like a drum inside me as he took my hand and gave it a tug, leading me down the row of seats.
Holy mother of God.
The same sinking feeling that had flooded me the other night—when I was loopy on allergy meds, making a fool of myself in front of him—rushed back into me now.
Not sinking. More like falling.
Like I was being swept along in Jesse’s current, and I wanted to surrender to it.
To let him take that control.
As we walked down the hall between sets of seats, a few straggling groups of people were still standing and chatting in the wings. He waved and nodded at a few people as he walked with me, even stopping for selfies with a few of them. Afterward he went right back to grabbing my hand, with no shame in his game, and certainly not trying to hide that he was holding my hand.
“So you liked watching me?” he asked.
He was asking me if I liked the goddamn hockey game?
Now?
I practically couldn’t think straight with my hand in his, and I didn’t know where he was taking me, but at this point I’d follow him into moving traffic if it meant getting a chance at having him touch me just once.