Page 109 of A Little Complicated

“Been missing your taste for months.”

“You tasted me last weekend,” I remind him. “And six more times since. And let’s not forget last night when you snuck into my room. Pretty sure when my parents gave you guys a spare key, they didn’t think you would use it to hook up with their oldest child.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He guides me toward the penalty box, skating backward while keeping his hands planted on my waist. “And if we’re gonna be technical, I tasted yourmouthlast night.” He nips at my bottom lip. “Now I wanna taste this.” His hands slowly lower, cupping my sex and making my lips part.

“You’re joking, right?” I glance at the tunnel, but we’re still blissfully alone as he opens the penalty box and guides me inside.

“I never joke about oral, Goose.” He boops my nose with his finger and closes the glass behind us.

“Practice just ended,” I remind him. “I’m all gross.”

“Trust me, Ophelia. You’re perfect.”

“And you’re horny.” I push against his chest to keep a few inches of distance between us, but he simply swats my hand away and continues his pursuit.

“Let me taste you,” he begs.

My mind is dizzy with exhaustion and curiosity and lust. The combination makes it almost impossible to think straight, especially when his hands and mouth are on me, tasting the column of my throat.

“And what happens if I say yes?” I whisper.

“I go down on you right here.”

“And then?”

“Then, we pick up takeout, go back to your place, and watch a movie.”

“So, no practice?” I question.

He nips at my bottom lip. “Why are we still talking?”

“Because you're deflecting.”

“You’d seriously rather I go to practice than ditch and hang out at your place?”

“I’d rather you not get in trouble with Sanderson all because you want to get laid.”

“Hockey isn’t everything.”

With a laugh, I ask, “Since when?”

He tugs me toward him. “Since you gave me another chance.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not making you choose between me and hockey, so why don’t you pick up some food after practice, and I’ll be waiting at my place—naked—when you finish. And if you’re still feeling needy, we can watch a movie and snuggle afterward.”

Looking thoughtful, he notes, “Iama sucker for snuggling.”

“I may have pieced that together over the past couple of weeks,” I reply, remembering how many times he’s snuck out of his place only to slip into my bed to hold me.

His mouth lifts. “Fine. But only if you let me make you come right here, right now.” His fingers toy with the edge of my pants and dip inside. He slides even lower, playing with my entrance.

“That’s”—I gasp as he finds my entrance—“kind of you.”

What am I doing?

Oh, right. I’m appreciating the morsels Maverick’s been delivering in spades ever since the backyard incident by letting him eat me out in LAU’s arena.

He drags his lips along my neck, pausing beneath my ear. Then he presses his forehead to mine and groans. “You’re fucking soaked.”

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