Page 45 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

She’s clutching the door like it’s holding her up, but when I see the mile-high stilettos on her feet, it makes sense. She’s in a new pencil skirt, this one lacy and a deep burgundy that matches her lipstick. The black silk blouse has a flouncy bow at her breast, making her look like a present I want to unwrap and devour. Her gorgeous eyes are wide and unsure as she looks at me from under thick lashes. Her hair is down and curled, looking thick enough to get both of my fists lost in the strands. She looks fucking amazing. But also different.

I try to shake off the fog and act like the gentleman I lectured myself about being. “You look...”

“Ridiculous?” she offers, forehead wrinkling.

I step inside her house, my loafers toe to toe with her heels as I hold the bouquet out to the side so I can look deep into her eyes. Shit. I’m already fucking this up if she’s belittling herself because I can’t seem to form words.

“No. You look stunning. Unbelievably good. So good I could forget dinner entirely and just eat you. So fucking hot I don’t know if I want to take you out and share you with other people. You look so beautiful I want only my eyes on you, or I might be insanely jealous of everyone else.”

Her eyes widen and I keep going, refusing to be another man in her life that makes her feel less than. My free hand skims over her hip and slides around her waist, pulling her into me. “I’ve been waiting for days to lay eyes on you and now I know why. You’re like oxygen, necessary and life-giving.”

Her lips purse and tremble as she blinks up at me. “Wow.”

I nod, arm tightening around her waist. “Yeah,” I whisper back, leaning down to pluck a kiss from her lips while inhaling her familiar scent. She opens for me immediately, her hands sliding up my arms and over my shoulders. I step farther into her and she steps back. I follow, my tongue delving inside to taste her, desperate for more from this woman. Feeling like we’re on display and not wanting that, I flail my leg and whack the door. The thing slams shut and the noise makes Molly jump in my arms. She gasps and then grins at me while we both breathe hard.

“I’ll say it again. Wow.”

I think I might make it a personal challenge to get more wows out of her before the night is up. I release her just the tiniest bit and offer her the flowers. She looks down at them with surprise, like she didn’t see them when I knocked on her door. I really fucking like that she only had eyes for me too.

“Oh my god, you found the Twizzlers?” She looks up at me, mouth popped open. “You remembered?”

I frown and pluck the candy from the bouquet. “Of course I remembered. My girl says she likes key lime Twizzlers, you bet I’m going to find them for her.”

Heat sweeps across Molly’s face. “Your girl, huh?”

I put the flowers down on a small dining table a few feet away from us. Her place is small but charming, exactly as I would have envisioned Molly’s space. Back in front of her, I rip open the candy. “Lucky for you, we’re a little early for our reservation. Plenty of time for me to feed you a Twizzler.” I slide one out of the package and tease the end against her lips. “Open, baby.”

Molly tips her head back and opens her mouth, eyes twinkling in the lamplight coming from beside the couch behind us. I slide the candy in and watch her tongue circle it. Everything below my belt tightens painfully.

“Can’t tell you how much I like you trusting me,” I say roughly, incredibly turned on watching her take my candy in her mouth. And yes, I wish that was a euphemism for something else.

Molly closes her mouth on the candy and bites down, snapping off the piece that’s in her mouth. “Now you try it.”

I hand her the candy. “Feed me.” She grins, sucking on her candy while she does a helicopter move I’ve seen moms do to their toddlers. I burst out laughing and that’s when she pops it in my mouth.

“Suck on it and tell me if you like it,” she says with a voice so sultry, I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to make it through dinner in public without being indecently turned on. I bite off a piece and wince as the sugary tart taste bursts in my mouth.

“I like it, but I like tasting you better,” I answer.

Molly shifts closer, her hand trailing up my torso, making every muscle twitch in her wake. Her finger slides into my open collar and touches the skin at my neck. Why does her innocent touch feel better than all the puck bunnies who ever existed combined?

“Molly?”

“Huh?” Her eyes look like she’s drugged, half-mast and thoroughly distracted as she traces back and forth over my exposed skin.

“If you don’t stop touching me right now, we’re not going to make it to dinner.” My voice is barely above a rumble at this point. Pretty sure I’ll have to think about oysters and dinner with Coach if I’m ever going to get this erection to go down enough to be in public.

Molly’s eyes widen as she finally focuses. Then, with a wicked arch to her brow, she reaches up with her other hand and unbuttons my shirt so she has more skin to caress. My body ishumming with excitement, not at all concerned with skipping dinner. That’s a green-fucking-light if I’ve ever seen one.

“I warned you.” I give her one last chance to say no, but the little vixen tweaks my nipple instead. Not to the point of pain, but hard enough all the blood rushes through my ears as it heads south.

I slide my hand to cup the nape of her neck and slam my lips down on hers. I’m not careful or sweet or tentative as I take her mouth. She tastes like key lime and MILF. This woman has driven me crazy, and I need her out of these proper clothes right fucking now.

My hand fumbles with the zipper at the back of her skirt, then slides up her silky-smooth back to find some way out of this blouse. Her skirt falls to the floor, but my watch is now caught in her blouse. I break away from her mouth and take in the black lacy panties she’s wearing. Combine that with the sexy stilettos and the tiny little puffs of air coming from her lipstick-stained lips, and I’m fucking done for.

“Can you get this blouse off before I rip it?” I manage to ask between clenched teeth.

Molly huffs out a laugh, but reaches below her armpit to some secret zipper that only women know about. Down it goes, and suddenly my watch is free as I get the blouse over her head and thrown to the ground. Her breasts are absolutely insane in a matching black lace bra that pushes them up and together. I drop my forehead to hers and squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t embarrass myself like a teen boy.

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