Page 93 of Rookie Recovery

“No,” he moaned, pushing back before I got him into my arms, wrapped his legs around me. Before I could start the wrecking.

“What? What’s wrong?” Panic flooded my brain at the sudden reversal. What had I done wrong, how had I—

“Here,” he said, chest still heaving, words breathy, those eyes so fucking dark and sexy as he stared up at me. Clear need written into every line of his face. “I want you to fuck me right here. In the kitchen.”

Fuck. Holy fuck. I was breathing way too hard, and I needed to be inside him. “Why the kitchen? Bed would be—”

“Because I like your kitchen.”

“Okay.” I couldn’t argue. I’d never fucked anybody in my kitchen, and all of a sudden, I desperately wanted to fuck Bowie here. “Let me get some lube.”

“Here.” He reached onto the counter behind him, swiped something off the glossy stone top. Shoved it into my hand. “Done.”

I would have laughed, except I was so fucking turned on I didn’t have enough spare brain cells to process the irony. Had he planned to take advantage of me in my kitchen all along? I didn’t know. Didn’t care. “Fuck, condoms.”

“I’m clean. You’ve seen my records.”

“Right.”

“And you haven’t had sex in twelve hundred years.”

I slammed my mouth against his to shut him up. “Take your pants off.”

He was already shimmying out of his jeans. I snagged the elastic of his underwear and dragged them down his hips in the wake of his pants because time was of the essence.

Together, we got his clothing kicked to the floor in a puddle of discarded cloth.

Then, Archie Bowman, star hockey player and British phenom, stood in my kitchen. Naked. I’d been upgraded.

“Fuck.” I let my eyes drag slowly over him for a moment, because he was so, so fucking beautiful. Those lean, muscular calves, powerful thighs, his cock standing at attention. The ridges of his abs, those glorious obliques, and yes, that cocky, beautiful dirty fucking smirk.

All of it—all of him—was mine right now, all mine.

I surged into him, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin to skin, tongues tangled. My legs between his, my cock pressed into the bone of his hip. His fingers clawed at the waistband of my jeans, trying to get my button undone, but I scooped him up under his ass and set him on the stone countertop.

Perfect. The perfect height.

“Kitty,” he panted, still pawing at my pants. “Please get naked for me.”

“Not yet.” I slid my lips down his throat and pulled him towards the edge of the counter, widening the V of his legs against me. “I want to get you ready for me first.”

Because once I undressed, it would be hard and fast and heavy. No stopping. I pried the top off the lube.

“You’re such a tease,” he groaned as I dragged slicked fingers down his cock and over the curve of his balls. He leaned back onto his hands to give me better access. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you nak—oh hell.”

My finger slid across his hole. His breathing turned shallow again as I brushed along the rim, then pressed inside. Holy fuck, he was so tight. How was he so fucking tight? My cock pulsed against my jeans in anticipation, because, shit, if he was this tight for one finger, what was he going to feel like to all of that?

I wouldn’t last a full minute inside him.

“Jesus, Bowie,” I murmured. I pressed in deeper, and he whimpered. Fucking whimpered. Just thinking about how he’d feel clenched around me was making me wild, bringing me too close to the edge. My words came out in a rasp. “Ready for more?”

“So ready,” he groaned. So I slid in another finger, stretching him out more. He tipped his head back in that too-sexy way I couldn’t get enough of, clamped his lower lip between his white teeth, and moaned. His hips rocked against the counter, nudging me in deeper as he fucked himself on my fingers.

I wouldn’t even make it inside him if he kept doing that.

I pressed in a third finger, pulling another filthy moan out from him as I pumped, as he rocked and rocked. Bringing us both closer to that edge, making me almost frantic to fuck before things got any more heated. Before it was too late and I came in my damn pants.

I needed him. No more foreplay.

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