Page 56 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

He groans. “I want you too.”

Taking him by the hand, I lead him to my room, stopping next to the bed and turning to face him. “Um, right. Do you have … did you bring …” Forcing a deep breath, I meet his eyes. “I don’t have any condoms. Do you?”

A crooked smile curves his lips. “I worried it’d be presumptuous, but at the same time, I wanted to be prepared just in case. So, yeah. I hit the pharmacy on the way here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet.

Smiling, I pluck it out of his hand, toss it on the bed, and reach for him.

He lets out a happy, rumbling sound, his hand cupping my jaw as he kisses me. He tastes a little tangy—like me, I realize—but then I’m swept up in his kiss, his hands, his body, and I don’t care.

My fingers fumble with the button of his shorts, and he takes over, making quick work of undoing them and shoving them down. Then he starts pulling up my shirt, breaking off our kiss so he can strip it off me, his eyes hungry as they rake over me in my bra and skirt. “Take it off,” he commands, voice gruff. “I need to see you. All of you.”

I reach behind me to unhook my bra, my gaze straying to his tented boxers. “You too.”

Grinning, he happily complies, then reaches for the tie of my skirt, undoing it with one quick tug. The outer layer falls, but the tie threaded through holds the other part in place until he hooks a finger in the waistband and slides it free. It lands at my feet, and then he’s pulling me to him again, his hard cock pressing into my belly as he kisses me.

Reaching between us, I wrap my hand around it, sliding up and down slowly, but using the pressure he showed me he liked before.

He groans. “Christ. I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

When I grin up at him, he chuckles, kisses me again, then pulls me onto the bed, where he tugs my panties off, tossing them over his shoulder theatrically and grinning at my giggles.

He settles next to me, his hand trailing over my body, plumping my breasts so he can suck on my nipples, then down between my thighs where he touches me gently, dipping a finger inside me and using my juices to rub lazy circles over my clit.

I want to touch him too, but at this angle, with his mouth attached to my nipple, I can’t reach him. So I content myself with touching him wherever I can reach—running my fingers through his hair, down his shoulder, his arm, his side.

He groans at my touch like just the feel of my fingers on his skin is enough to get him going. The sound vibrates against my skin, and he sucks harder on my nipple, sending zings of pleasure to my clit, making me arch and press into his hand.

When he releases my nipple, he captures my lips for a moment before looking down at me, his eyes dark and fathomless as the depths of the ocean. “Are you ready?” His voice is barely more than a whisper, rough with need. “I want you to be ready for me.”

“God, yes,” I moan. “I’m so beyond ready, I’m dying.”

His teeth flash in an almost feral smile. “Good. Me too.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Troy

I find the condom, tear open the package, and roll it on, my skin prickling with awareness. Anna’s watching me, her gaze devouring me like I’m the most decadent dessert imaginable.

For my prim, shy little office manager, she’s completely unabashed and unashamed of the way she’s drinking me in.

I love it.

I love everything about this evening—making dinner with her, eating with her, eating her for dessert. The tart taste of her pussy lingers on my tongue, and part of my brain is already devising plans for the best time and place to do that again. When she came apart on my tongue, arching and writhing and convulsing with pleasure, I almost came in my shorts.

It’s taken me this long to gain enough control that I’m not worried I’ll blow as soon as I get inside her. I haven’t been a two-pump chump since I was a pimply teenage virgin, so excited and turned on by the prospect of actually having sex that I couldn’t last more than a few seconds. Fortunately, the second round was better for both of us. And I’ve spent a fair amount of time since then learning the best ways to please a woman.

I want to take all that knowledge, all that skill development, and use it for Anna’s benefit. It’s clear to me that she hasn’t been properly taken care of in a long time, if ever. And if my new job post-retirement becomes doing that, I think I could be pretty happy. At least for a while. And once it’s clear she’s well-satisfied, I can figure out what to branch into next at that point, a happy Anna at my side. I still think that junior hockey league sounds cool, and picturing Anna helping me with it seems right in a way I wouldn’t have expected to feel with someone I’ve known less than a week. It’s patently ridiculous, and I know that, so I’ll keep those thoughts in my own head. For now.

Stroking myself, I settle between her thighs. She spreads them wider, making room for me, and I pet her pretty pussy again. “Are you ready, sweetness?”

She catches her lower lip between her teeth and dips her chin in a nod.

My eyebrows hitch up, because that response seems less certain than before. But any hesitation is erased when she lifts her hands and reaches for me. “Please, Troy,” she whispers. “I need you.”

Those words send a thrill of triumph and lust racing through my veins. She needs me.

I know this is supposed to just be a fun vacation fling. I know she can’t possibly think this is more. On paper, this turning into more doesn’t make sense—she lives here and I’m a hockey player from Seattle, even if I am retired. But the way she’s looking at me, the way I feel, this seems like it could be more. Like I want it to be more. Like it’s ridiculous and probably a little stupid given we’ve only known each other for a few days, but I haven’t felt this happy and connected with anyone in longer than I can remember. Ever? And I have the distinct feeling that once I’m inside her, that feeling will ramp up even more.

---