Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Not that it matters, but I think you should choose hockey.”
His shoulders drop. “So does everyone else.”
“It only matters what you want,” I tell him, and he looks over at me. His eyes burn into mine, and I feel his gaze slowly trailing over every bit of my body. I want his eyes back, so I ask, “Do you really not kiss on the mouth?”
He shakes his head almost violently before his gaze locks with mine. “Fuck no. I don’t want anyone to think it’s more than it is.”
Makes sense, but I can’t really focus on that when I’m lost in his eyes.
It’s as if he’s looking into my soul with his piercing gaze. He’s so big compared to me, which isn’t a normal thing for me. I’m usually the same size as the guys I date, which is why I’m attracted to athletes. They usually tower over me, and Dawson does just that. He has such soft features, high cheekbones, and the biggest mouth I’ve ever seen.
He really is beautiful, but like Grace P. said, I would never be his type.
He’s just drunk. He feels like shit, and I’m the only one around for him to talk to.
When he smiles, showing all his teeth, I know he knows it’s one hell of a weapon. He has to use that smile to get what he wants, and I’m sure he’s super successful.
“Can I eat your pussy?”
I blink, caught totally off guard, before I snort very loudly. “Could you find it?” He grins, a predatory one, but then his eyes cross, and I can’t help but laugh. “Bro, you’re so drunk.”
He waves me off, and I swear he forces himself to look into my eyes. “It’s fine. You can sit on my face and suck my dick.”
“Wow, that sounds so damn appealing,” I say, rolling my eyes. “But I’ll pass.”
His brows furrow. “Really?”
“Really.” But my retort comes out a little weak. Almost as if I wouldn’t mind doing exactly what he said. My pussy is on board, but she’s a needy thing, so I ignore her because I won’t be another one of his conquests. I pat his thigh before pushing off the beanbag. “No one tells you no, huh?”
He looks up at me with an expression that tells me no one has. He’s so confident. So sure of himself. That big dick energy is firing off like mad, and even I can’t deny that it’s sexy. Then he slowly spreads his legs wide, and my eyes catch on the fucking pole in his pants. The fabric does little to hide his arousal, the thick curve of the head pressing against the middle of his thigh. If only I had a measuring tape to measure that sucker.
Easy ten inches.
My pussy weeps at the thought.
I tear my eyes from his crotch to his heated gaze. It catches me by surprise that he’s hard for me, but then I remind myself he’s drunk and just wants a warm mouth. He licks his lips and then asks, “What’s your name?”
I smile. “I’ll tell you one day.”
“So, I’ll see you again?”
I shrug, and I hate how easy it is to smile at him. I usually have to force it, but for him, it comes quickly. I wink, which is totally unlike me. “If you’re lucky.”
I’m almost to the side of the house when he calls out, “I’ll find you.”
A rush of excitement flows through me, but I know he won’t remember me or even this moment.
But I will, because when I make it to my car, I get the call that my dad has dropped dead from a heart attack.
And just like Dawson Sinclair’s tattoo reads, I am forced into metamorphosis.
CHAPTER
ONE
Dawson
It’s never a good thing when my uncles, Jude and Jace, and my dad stand before me with their arms crossed and their piercing green eyes set on me.
Even though I mirror them, not only in looks but in the fact that I’m very imposing—and taller by a half inch that I claim like a gold medal—I’m utterly terrified of them. I have spent my life wanting to be just like them. Not to toot the “Sinclairs were the best hockey players in the NHL” horn, but in my opinion, they were. Each of them took the league by storm, all three retiring as captains of their respective teams.
Even now, retired, they are still so involved in the sport. My dad is the coach for the Bellevue Bullies, the college team my brother and I play for. My uncle Jude is an agent now, for both Louis and me, along with some of the greatest hockey talent out there. Jace runs a nonprofit with my aunt Avery that provides hockey camps, equipment, and more to kids who want to play but can’t fund it or don’t have the support. They partner with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Middle Tennessee and bring in a lot of kids that way.