Page 53 of For Crosby

“And the way you’re looking at my mouth right now tells me I’m not the only one feeling this way.”

My eyes jumped to his. They were zoned in on mine and dilated. Oh, man. My breathing became labored. Would kissing him ease my confusion? Would scratching that itch help me to hate him again or would I get myself in deeper?

His hands cupped my cheeks, strong and possessive. He stared into my eyes, his riveting between them. He was giving me time to stop him. Time to consider what his next move would inevitably be. I pulled in another deep breath and that’s all the assurance he needed. His lips crashed down on mine. They were fierce and determined, and hot as holy hell. My lips parted. His tongue plunged inside my mouth, tangling with mine in desperate pursuit. We both fought for control. Fought against what we initially thought about each other. And truth be told, it made the kiss so much hotter. All the pent up sexual tension he and I had been dancing around had finally come to a head. An explosive head.

Crosby’s hands slipped to the back of my head, cradling it from the hard tiles as his bare chest pressed to mine, pinning me with nowhere to go. He shifted his hips. His erection pressed through his boxers and into my towel, the only real barrier between us. The ache between my thighs came hard and fast, throbbing like a ticking time bomb. Craving the feel of him, I wrapped my arms around his neck, arching into him as his mouth continued to move ferociously with mine. Though it was impossible to get any closer, his hands slipped down my back, pulling me against his chest. His hands continued down until they reached the bottom of my towel. I stilled. So did his hands.

He pulled back enough to see my eyes. We were both breathing heavy. Both turned on beyond reason. “I don’t wanna screw this up,” he said. “I need you to tell me if this is going too fast.”

My body was a live wire ready to ignite if he didn’t stop talking and ease my ache. No way did I want him getting all self-righteous now. My hands pulled him toward me and my lips captured his. The low contented hum in the back of his throat urged me on. But Crosby was in no way passive. He kissed me back, his hands slipping beneath my towel and drifting over my bare ass as his mouth moved with mine. “I want you,” he murmured against my lips.

“I’m right here.”

I squeaked as he lifted me off my feet and stormed out of the shower room. I laughed at the determination in his eyes as he walked us down the deserted hallway and through his open door, slamming it closed behind us. Once inside it was a whole different story. No one would interrupt us there. This could go as far as I let it.

He lowered me onto his bed, following me down slowly. With his forearms on the pillow beside my head, his strong body pressed me into the mattress and his mouth returned to mine. His body moved over me. Through the towel, his erection hit my clit, sending my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He kept at it, torturing me with the feel of him. He was looking for the okay. Looking for something that told him I was okay with what was happening.

I slipped my arms around his back. The ridges were taut and the skin smooth beneath my touch. I continued down to the dip above his ass, reaching the band on his boxers. I slipped my fingertips underneath. He pulled away from my lips and dropped his mouth to my neck, assaulting my skin with open-mouthed kisses that were focused. Deep. Intoxicating. My head drifted to the side as my hands continued down, drifting over his ass and around his muscular hips.

He growled into my neck. “Make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” I challenged, my hand moving to the front and grabbing hold of the hard length between us.

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed.

My hand tightened, moving up and down in a smooth rhythmic motion. “You should know I love a challenge.”

His laugh rumbled deep, vibrating against my neck before his lips moved back to mine. This kiss was fierce, his tongue diving deeper, stroking inside my mouth and entwining with mine. His hand descended, sliding into the opening of my towel. His fingers found the dampness between my thighs.

Holy mother of all things glory.

He spread my folds and his fingers drifted gently over the swollen skin.

My head fell back, pushing into the pillow as my hand continued moving over him. “Oh, God.”

Two of his fingers pushed inside me. My back arched off the bed. But he didn’t stop there. His thumb found my clit and circled it. Around and around. A groan reverberated deep in my chest as I squirmed beneath him, releasing my grasp on his erection. He pressed his thumb harder, moving up and down. The tingles in my body coiled in that spot. He seemed to know because his fingers began pumping in and out of me as his thumb moved around in circles again, this time slowly. Oh so slowly. He taunted me, circling then gliding over it. Then circling some more.

The tingles built again, this time a flood of euphoria sat ready to unleash. My eyes pinched tight as my body went off like a cork, ripples firing out to all parts of my body. I struggled to catch my breath as his relentless fingers kept at it, milking every last bit of pleasure from me. I couldn’t take the torture. I writhed beneath him, trying unsuccessfully to buck him off my quaking body.

He eventually relented, removing his fingers and letting me enjoy the aftershocks rippling through me. “God, I wish you could see your face right now.”

My eyes fluttered open. “Why?”

“Because you look so damn beautiful.”

I scoffed. “Underneath you?”

He shook his head, embarrassment flashing in his eyes. “I can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“After what you’ve been through, it’s to be expected. But, so you know, not everyone will let you down.”

He flashed a cocky smirk. “That’s what I’m hoping if you wrap that little hand of yours around my dick again.”

“Annnnd Mr. Hockey’s back.”

He laughed and I really liked the raspy sound of it, especially since I was the one to bring it out of him. But as quickly as it happened, it disappeared. “Why are you giving me a second chance?”

“More like a fifth chance.”

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