Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
And as promised I enjoy destroying the Sea Dogs very much. When the scoreboard flashes with a W, I turn my attention to the press box once more, and I feel like the king of the ice when I spot Remy cheering.
* * *
When we’re back at the hotel, I’m so amped up from the win that my hands are aching to touch her. I want to peel off our clothes in the hallway as we walk back to the room—no need for a suite tonight, after all, so I kept this room. By the time we reach the door I’m kissing the back of her neck, roaming my hands up her sweater, whispering filthy things in her ear.
She shudders and says, “I can’t even concentrate and open the door.”
“Let me,” I say, taking the key card, sliding it over the pad, and pushing the door open. Once we’re inside, I strip off her sweater in no time, but then stop since she’s staring at something behind me, pointing. “You got us champagne?”
I just spin around, spotting a bucket of champagne and two flutes on the table in the corner. “Actually, no,” I say, feeling a little sheepish that I didn’t. Maybe I should have.
She walks over to the bucket and picks up the card next to it. “Thank you so much for staying at the Chestnut Inn. Come back anytime. Best wishes, Cedric. He must have felt really bad for the one room thing.”
“And clearly wanted to make up for it.”
Remy flashes me a naughty grin. “He hardly has to. You’re going to make it up to me with your mouth,” she says, then steps closer and drags her thumb along my bottom lip, making me forget my fucking name as my skin lights up.
But the star of the show tonight is her.
“Get naked and get on the bed.”
“If you insist.”
“I do,” I say, then open the bottle. When she’s down to nothing, I tug off my shirt, leaving only my jeans on as I climb on the bed, champagne in hand. It’s not lost on me that she bought champagne for her ex and didn’t get to drink it. This champagne isn’t going to waste.
I drizzle some of the bubbly on her breasts, then spend a good long time worshiping those gorgeous globes, licking the champagne off her flesh, sucking her nipples till she’s writhing and I’m aching. Grabbing at the sheets with one hand, she pushes my head lower with the other, practically begging me to eat her up. I set the bottle of champagne aside and then kiss my way down her body, reaching her hips.
I pause for a second or two, amazed I get to do this. I get to touch her. It’s such a privilege.
I can’t believe that the woman I crushed on from afar is so much better in real life. More fun, more caring, more kind than I’d imagined. And for a few more days, she’s all mine. As that heady thought roars through me, I settle between her thighs.
But she presses a hand to my shoulder, stopping me. “I have to warn you, I don’t come this way easily.”
She gives me an apologetic look, but there’s nothing to apologize for. This isn’t a problem. This is something we can figure out together.
“Is it that you don’t like it?”
“No, I like it. I mean, I think I like it. It’s just that it’s sort of hard to let go.”
I could say something cocky like it’s because whoever was with you wasn’t doing it right, but now is not the time for crowing. Now is the time for listening. “Do you want to let go?”
She pauses and shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Then how about this? I’ll just go down on you for a few minutes. No pressure. Come or don’t come—whatever works for you. And when you want to stop, I’ll fuck you instead just the way you like it.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding breathy, and sounding happy too, like that was the right answer I gave.
Thank fuck.
I’m not some kind of expert in the mind or intimacy. But if she’s worried about letting go, maybe the most important thing is to let her know she doesn’t have to with me. She can just be herself.
I slide my hands under her ass, scoop her up, and bring her close to my mouth. And then I kiss and lick and suck. I flatten my tongue, dragging it slowly, luxuriously up and down. I savor every single taste of her, flicking her clit with the tip of my tongue. Letting her know with my hands digging into her ass, with my sounds, moans, and grunts that come from the center of my filthy soul how absolutely fucking good it is whether she lets go or not.
And I kiss her pussy more deeply, like I’m French kissing her. Like I can’t get enough of her taste, her scent, her pleasure as I listen to her every sound.