Page 49 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

CHAPTER 17

NATALIE

Towering over me, even though he’s on his knees, Gabe leans forward, takes my face in both hands, and claims my mouth like an explorer marking newly discovered land.

My hands claw into his thick tousled hair as our tongues glide together, both of us needy, eager, hungry.

I have never been so desperate to rip off someone’s clothes in my life. But four days of his grumpy banter, his niggling at me, his total-opposite-of-me-ness, and he’s worked me into such a frenzy that I’ll stop at nothing to get exactly that.

My heart has never pounded this hard, so hard I can hear it inside my head.

His mouth slides off mine, across my jaw and down to my neck. “You are so goddamn annoying.” His warm breath sends goosebumps skittering down the side of my body all the way to my freshly healed ankle.

I need to get my hands on the muscles that I amabsolutely certain are under this hoodie. I have never touched a body like this before, and it might be my one and only chance, so I intend to grope it just as much as I can.

While Gabe’s hands move to my hips and up under my sweatshirt, pulling the T-shirt underneath out of my jeans, I find his waistband and free his undershirt too.

Our hands make contact with each other’s skin at the same time, and in perfect unison we let out groany sighs.

It’s hard to know which sensation is better—his large hands wrapping themselves around me searching for my bra or feeling his rippling muscles under my fingers. Swear to God I could count out his six-pack from the outline if I wasn’t so distracted.

“I’m glad you think I’m…” Oh dear Lord, he’s unhooked my bra. “…so irritating.”

His mouth is on my ear while his palms find my breasts, radiating chills to every extremity, making me melt into the jacket he placed on the seat for me.

As if levitating on their own, my legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Something hard and large presses against my center.

“So irritating, and so fucking hot,” he breathes against my ear, tipping his hips as if to demonstrate just exactly how hot this is.

Pushing my hands up his shirt, I find his tight, puckered nipples and run my hands back and forth over them, tickling my fingertips.

In response, he thumbs mine and I vanish to another plane of reality. One where having sex with a famous athlete I’m really not sure about on the front row of the community theater seems like a good idea.

Then his hands are out from under my shirt and his mouth is off me.

My eyes open at the lack of contact and I find him looking down at me. He strokes his hands across my forehead, pushing the hair off my face, then rests them on my cheeks.

Those intense hazel eyes look deep into mine.

“I really want to fuck you.” The rumble in his voice vibrates my fingers on his chest. “Can I fuck you?”

I slide my hands down to his waistband and pop the button in response. “I’d be truly disappointed if you didn’t.”

His eyes fill with lust as the sexiest smile I have ever seen in my life breaks out under that dark beard.

And then his face is gone, ducking under my top, his mouth finding that sensitive skin at the side of my waist, his beard tickling, making me laugh and squirm a little.

“You like that?” His voice is rich with seductive flirtation.

“Hell, yes.” I’m virtually panting, like a wild animal closing in on its prey.

He looks up at me and, holding my gaze, brushes his chin from one side of my waist to the other, hovering it over my skin so the whiskers just barely touch it.

“Holy shit.” A full body shiver sends my head falling back onto the top of the seat.

Just when I think I can’t get any wetter he undoes my jeans and drags his chin lower.

“Condom?” I manage. Thank God there’s at least one brain cell in there still in the land of sensible thoughts.

---