Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
It was okay. He’d do so in his own time…or not at all. It was up to him. If this sexual experimentation phase only lasted this summer, I’d be sure to enjoy every second of it.
Discovery was the new name of the game.
I switched my schedule to free up my late mornings or early afternoons to be with Vinnie. Occasionally, we met up after practice at his house and spent the evening naked in his sheets. His place was safer than mine—more remote and private. There was little to no chance of my mother or brother banging on his front door at a random hour.
Funny enough, this wasn’t a nonstop sexathon. We talked a lot too. Hockey, baseball, music, places we’d traveled, items on our bucket lists…
“I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon,” I said around a bite of turkey sandwich and squinted at the glare off the water. “Or Paris. Those are both on my list.”
“Dude. You need to stop what you’re doing, hop a plane to Arizona, rent a car, and get your ass to the Grand Canyon ASAP. It will blow your fuckin’ mind.” He opened his fist next to his temple and reached for the bag of chips on the blanket he’d spread on the dock between us. “And Paris just has to be experienced. You gotta go…like now.”
I chuckled. “I can’t go anywhere right now.”
“Sure, you can. I’ll take you.”
I kicked his shin as I straightened my leg in front of me. I should have been on my way to the diner by now, but basking in the sun with a shirtless hunk after being in the rink for a few hours had been too tempting to pass up. And so was the sex. We’d tumbled into his living room, fumbling with our clothes in between dirty kisses. After a weak attempt to climb the stairs, we’d fallen onto the sectional, where he’d tongued my hole and fucked me into the cushions.
We’d napped, showered, made sandwiches, and headed to the dock for an impromptu picnic.
I could be a little late today.
“I’m not going to Paris with you, weirdo.”
“Why not?”
“First of all, unlike you, I’m not retired and I can’t take off whenever I want. Second, how would I explain a romantic vacation with you?”
Vinnie’s mouth curled into a devilish lopsided grin. His sunglasses shaded his eyes from view, but I knew they were crinkled at the corners in amusement.
“Romantic, huh?”
“Fuck you. You know what I mean. I associate Paris with romance and…not clandestine booty calls,” I huffed.
“Fair. When was the last time you took a vacation?”
“Three years ago. A week in Montreal. It was only supposed to be three days, but…it turned into more.”
“That’s where you met JC the magnifique?”
“Oui.” I took another bite.
“Hmm. I like him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it didn’t work out, but he’s a good guy.”
“He is,” I agreed.
“So…what happened? Why’d you break up? There’s gotta be a good story here. He uprooted his life and moved to Elmwood of all places for you. And he stayed. Is he hoping for a second shot or something?” His tone was deceptively casual.
“No. We’re both happier as friends and honestly, nothing happened. After first lust wore off, we didn’t do it for each other. We could talk about pastries, farm-to-table cuisine, and the latest episode of Top Chef all night, but the sex wasn’t thrilling anymore. It was an amicable split. I asked him to stay through that summer ’cause I was shorthanded and completely in over my head. He agreed and never left. I know Elmwood doesn’t compare to Montreal in any way, but I think he truly likes it here.”
“That’s cool.”
“What about you and the model?”
He squinted. “Who?”
“Sienna Montrose. She’s beautiful. You know the media still thinks you’re with her.”
Vinnie shrugged. “People believe what they want. And to be perfectly honest, we still got together when we were in the same town, which makes the whole ‘we’re not together’ thing confusing to outsiders.”
I gaped. “She’s your booty call too?”
He snorted. “No, asshole. I mean…no. She’s a friend. I told her we were done when I retired. She wants to use me as arm candy to sell her cosmetic line, and as a friend, I don’t mind showing up to help her out, but the relationship part is over. I don’t know if you could really call it a relationship anyway. It was more of a…sexship. You know?”
I fixed him with a withering glare. “You’re gross.”
“Oh, come on. It takes two to tango. If two people agree that all they need from each other is sex, that’s okay. I’m not equipped for the real deal. My life has always been hockey first, everything else last. Including the beautiful model who liked my dick and my fame. I’ll be a has-been within a year, so what’s the point in pretending we’re something we’re not? She’ll find someone else. No hard feelings.”