Page 159 of Evil Hearts

“Some women call really amazing boyfriends who are so giving and loving cinnamon rolls and golden retrievers. But you’re all of those things and more. And you’re not golden.” She beams at me, kissing my startled mouth. “I don’t quite know what to call you, but I’m looking forward to finding out.”

I kiss her back, one palm coming up to massage her breast, loving the way she instantly leans into my touch with a happy moan. “Just call me yours. Your mate,” I encourage, knowing I sound desperate and selfish. I make a last-ditch effort to be strong. “If you want. I know you’re so beautiful, and you’re a world traveler, and I’m a hometown hero monster…” I shrug helplessly. “In hockey terms, maybe it seems like we’re a missed shot, but—”

Fia cuts me off, finger to my lips and one leg sliding pointedly over mine to start fusing our bodies once again. “Shh. We’re a perfect shot—in hockey or photography.” She smiles, nodding seriously. “Sometimes the unexpected angle sinks it deep in the back of the net.” Her hips part, and my semi-erect cock easily slides into the soaking slickness of her pussy. “Sometimes the picture that you never expected to take is the one that wins the prize or becomes your favorite.”

“You’ve always been my favorite,” I whisper, head bowing so my forehead can rest against hers.

She smiles up at me, dimple deepening with the width of her grin. “You’re the prize I’ve been wanting.”

I sink into her.

She moans and flexes, sending ripples of pleasure through both of us. “Perfect,” she sighs.

“Agreed.”

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