Page 9 of One Goal in Mind

Scarlett lightly licks her lips, and I can’t take it a moment longer. She may want to be friends, but I can’t help my desperate need to kiss her again. I cautiously lean in, and she closes the distance, bringing her lips to mine. If she gets this job, I’ll be able to see her again. Fuck this being one night. Her lips part, letting me tease and taste her, but as I nip at her bottom lip she climbs onto my lap, straddling me.

“What are you up to, Red? I thought you said you don’t have sex on a first date?”

“Well, this isn’t a date, and last time I checked, we’re both fully clothed.”

I grip her ass and pull her flush with me, my now painfully hard cock straining against my jeans. “You’re right, but I bet if I stripped you out of these pants, you’d be wet for me.”

“Oh, I absolutely am, but we’re not sleeping together.” She leans in and whispers beside my ear, “I have to know—are the books right?”

“Books? What books?”

She pulls back, laughing, “You know, romance books. The star goalie with a Jacob’s ladder, or even just a Prince Albert.”

“Is that really in books? You’re full of shit.”

“I’m not!” Scarlett climbs off of me, and I stifle a groan. Once she’s retrieved her phone, she climbs back onto my lap, swiping and tapping for a minute. “See? Here are four books with pierced cocks.” She turns the phone to show me her book app, all of them featuring “puck” in the title. “So, you’re not pierced? Such a shame. You should get one.”

“Just because you read a bunch of hockey romance books with goalies who have pierced cocks doesn’t mean I’m going to fulfill your fantasies, Red.”

“Fine,” she playfully groans. “That nickname is sticking, isn’t it.”

“Yup,” I reply, popping the ‘p.’ I’m so gone for this girl, and I don’t even know her.

“Well, as disappointed as I am that your dick isn’t christened with barbells, it’s getting late. Do you want to stay over?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I normally hate sleepovers, but I’ll make an exception for you.” She winks and climbs off of me. As she struts over to the bed, she strips off her tee, and the sight has my cock leaking precum. There’s no way in hell I can stay the night and not touch her. She rummages in her suitcase and takes out an oversized tee, then pulls it over her head. Glancing over her shoulder, she teases, “Are you going to wear that to bed? Or do you need to borrow your jersey?”

I stand and tug off my shirt, tossing it to the floor. “I sleep naked. Hope you don’t mind.”

Her jaw drops, but she quickly schools her expression. I fucking love that her eyes darken at the sight of me. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” she confirms and unhooks her bra, letting it fall from under her shirt. She watches me intently as I unbuckle my belt and strip out of my pants. With my fingers in the waistband of my underwear, about to drag them down my legs, she rushes out, “But maybe keep your boxer briefs on.”

“Why? Because my cock isn’t pierced?”

Scarlett lets out a full laugh as she unbuttons her pants. “No! It’s because we’re justfriends.”

“Friends who kiss,” I correct. “And sleep in the same bed together.”

“Yes.” She clears her throat, stepping out of her pants. “But not friends who sleep in the same bednaked.”

I close the small distance between us and brush her hair off her shoulder, exposing her delicate throat. As I press a small kiss to her neck, I whisper, “If we’re friends who kiss, am I allowed to kiss you anywhere I want?”

“Wh-where do you want to kiss me?”

I nip at her earlobe, making her suck in a breath. “What’s off-limits?”

“I don’t know. Nowhere?”

I grip behind her thighs and toss her onto the bed. She lets out an adorable laugh, and I can’t help the stupid grin on my face. Her shirt rides up, revealing her black lace thong. As much as I’d love to rip it off and bury my face in her pussy, I want her to be comfortable first. With a featherlight touch, I glide my hands up her smooth thighs, wanting to trace behind my fingers with my tongue. Swiping my knuckle between her legs, the lace is already damp, and I lose all resolve. “Tell me to stop.”

“No,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.”

This has to be the stupidest idea I’ve ever come up with, but I can’t remember the last time I wanted someone as much as I want Scarlett. She wants to be friends? Fine. But every time she hears my name, I want her thighs clenching at the thought of what we did.

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