Page 44 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

When she takes me by the hand and leads me to the back of the apartment, my breath catches.

“This is the bathroom,” she says, pushing open a door to a small space with a tub/shower combo, small counter with a clean sink bearing only a toothbrush holder and her toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. Over the toilet is a set of shelves bearing neatly rolled towels, a stack of extra rolls of toilet paper, a box of tissues, and a small vase with a sprig of lavender in it. Based on the scent in the room, I’m guessing it’s real.

Then she leads me to her bedroom. There’s a slight departure from the neutrals of the rest of her apartment here. Instead of creams and taupes and browns, it’s cream and sage and lavender in the curtains and bed linens, plus light-colored wood in the dresser and nightstand. Another vase of lavender sits on her dresser, some abstract art that fits the color scheme on the walls. It all feels like some kind of high-end spa. A haven. An escape.

“I like your room,” I tell her, my voice scarcely more than a whisper for fear of disturbing the atmosphere.

She giggles. “You don’t have to whisper.” But she says it in a whisper.

“Are you sure about that?” I turn my attention to her. “You’re whispering.”

“Only because you are,” she whispers back.

And she’s so cute that I have to kiss her right now.

She lets out that little gasp that she does so often when our lips make contact, and I’m not sure if it’s surprise that I’m kissing her in general or just the shock of how intense every moment of contact with her is. Kissing her always seems to steal my breath too.

But there’s no trace of the tentativeness that characterized our first kisses. She meets me, her tongue darting out to taste my lips, and I take the invitation, angling my head to plunge my tongue into her mouth.

With her hand still in mine, I wrap my arm around her, pressing our joined hands into her lower back. My other hand slides down, gripping her ass and pulling her close, then farther down, lifting her leg so I can press against her and she can press against me. I grind into her belly, pulling her hot little pussy against my thigh.

God, I’ve been dying to hear her, to feel her, to get more of her, even if it’s just this middle school level of over the clothes touching—for now—I need this.

My dick grows hard and heavy, pressing into her soft belly, and she’s making these quiet, needy sounds. I can’t help thinking she wants more than this too. I don’t want to push, though. She’s skittish and shy, and the absolute last thing I want is to scare her off.

This—here, being with her—is the best I’ve felt in too long. Being with her makes me feel like a life after hockey is possible, even if I still don’t know what it looks like.

I want so much to guide her to the bed, but I’m worried about fucking it up. But she doesn’t seem like the type who’s comfortable initiating, either, so I’m stuck. Frozen. Not sure what to do.

Her leg lowers to the floor, and she gazes up at me, lips swollen and a crease between her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”

“God, no,” I breathe, reaching for her. “I want you so bad, but I don’t want to scare you away.”

She chuckles, returning my kiss. “I’m not scared off that easily,” she says, her voice remarkably husky.

Grinning, I examine her face. “Oh yeah?”

Biting her lip, she nods.

With one hand on her hip, I guide her back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it and moving her to stand between my spread knees.

She rests her hands on my shoulders, her fingers stroking the hair curling at the nape of my neck. I’m overdue for a haircut, but her fingers in my hair feel so good that I’d grow it out long if it means she’ll keep doing this.

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall forward, resting between her breasts. We stay like this for a long moment, and I breathe in her scent—lavender and laundry detergent. It shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is, but it’s so unassuming and so perfectly fitting that it drives me wild.

My dick is hard enough to take penalty shots, my pulse thundering in my ears, but I stay still, breathing in deeply until she tugs on my hair, and I tip my head up in response.

Bending, she kisses me on the lips, and it’s the sweetest, most delicious kiss I’ve ever received.

My hands can’t stay still on her hips. One slides up her back while the other moves down, grazing her ass, then to her thigh. I squeeze her bare skin gently, inching under the hem of her shorts. When she doesn’t object and instead opens her mouth and welcomes my tongue inside, I grow braver, moving my hand up under the loose fabric of her shorts, finding the thin edge of her panties. Stopping there, I slide my fingers back and forth over the thin barrier.

She grunts, breaking the kiss and pushing on my chest. Grinning widely, I follow her directions, moving farther onto the bed and reaching for her. “Come here,” I murmur, my voice gravel. She climbs onto the bed, straddling me, and my hands graze up her thighs to her hips as I stare up at her. “God, you’re so sexy,” I tell her, the words needing to leave my mouth as soon as they enter my head. I need her to know what she does to me.

The pink of her cheeks is visible in the light filtering through her curtains, but she doesn’t shy away from my gaze. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “So are you.”

A smile skates across my face, but it’s wiped away when she settles onto my lap. It’s the same position we were in at the cove but so much better. For one thing, we’re on a bed. No sand or dirt to get into anyone’s undies. No risk of anyone walking in.

“You don’t have a roommate, right?” I ask, my lips skating over her cheek, and I nip at her earlobe. That turns her answering giggle into a gasp.

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