Page 124 of Goalkeeper
“I want you to wear it while I fuck you.”
Well, then. A rush of heat floods toward my center.
Happy birthday to me.
“I think I can manage that,” I say, stretching up to pull the jersey on. It’s huge, of course, but Spence doesn’t seem to mind. “How do I look?”
“Fucking perfect.” He pulls me back into his arms for a kiss, and I wrap my legs around him, rocking up and back in a sweet rhythm. He slips his hands under the jersey to palm my breasts and I cry out at the contact. Arching into him, I slip my hand between our bodies and find him hard and hot beneath his shorts.
He quickly takes them off, but I keep his jersey on and move so I’m on all fours.
“Jesus.”
I lay my palms flat on the mattress and press my chest to the covers, thrusting my ass in the air.
“Is this what you want, baby?” he asks as his fingers find me wet and ready for him. He strokes me lightly at first, then fills me with two fingers, driving them deep to hit my G-spot. I cry out because it feels so good. It’s impossibly better, deeper from this angle.
“You want me to fuck you from behind while you wear my jersey?” he asks again. I moan in response. His cock is at my entrance now, and it feels so good I moan loudly. I have no control when it comes to Spencer Briggs.
I rock back into him as he thrusts into me and we find our rhythm easily. Bracing his right arm on the mattress, he curves his left arm around me and drifts his hand low to find my clit. Holy hell. His touch is incendiary. He rubs tight, quick circles and it feels so good, so full, that my orgasm is imminent.
“Fuck, Paige. Jesus. Baby, I’m so close. I—”
“Yes, yes. Now. Oh my god, Spencer, I’m coming,” I cry out as I reach my climax.
Minutes later, we’re curled up with each other under the covers. I’m about to fall back asleep when there’s a banging on the wall, and I hear Herrera saying, “I fucking hate you guys.”
14
Paige
A week after my birthday, I’m headed to Saratoga Springs for Sophie’s engagement party. It’s a whole weekend devoted to celebrating Sophie and Dr. Dickhead’s love, so how could I miss it?
The festivities actually started last night, but that was also the first hockey game of the season, so Emma and I were in the stands, cheering the guys on. I have no clue what happened, but we won, and my throat is still scratchy from yelling.
We celebrated the win at the hockey house, of course, and Spencer and I woke up early so he could drive me to the train station. He even stopped at the Green Bean to get me a latte for the road. My boyfriend is the best.
The train ride is long, but the good news is that I’ve finished all my reading for Contemporary Lit. For the next two weeks…
We finally pull into the station at Saratoga Springs where Jake is waiting for me in our car. Well, his car now. When we were both at Moo U, we shared custody of Trixie, a shiny silver SUV. But when Jake graduated and went off to med school in Cornell, he took Trixie with him.
And did my parents think to get me a car? Nope.
And when I mentioned asking them to co-sign a loan this summer, you’d think I asked them if we could start an underground market for rare jewels. They told me I’d be too tempted to drive into the city or give rides to friends if I had my own car. There were so many holes in that argument that my logic professor would have a field day, but I let it go, and I don’t really mind the train all that much. I’m someone who rarely sits still, so the forced quiet time is a nice change.
But I’m still bitter about Trixie, and I make this clear when I hug her headlights before embracing my brother.
“Trix! Oh, how I’ve missed you. And you look so good— just the same as when I saw you last, but—oh, no! Is that dirt I see? Is Jake not taking proper care of you? Do I need to take you back home to Moo U?”
“You wish,” Jake says, rounding the front of the car. “And careful, or you’ll poke your eye out with these damn lashes.”
I laugh because he’s not talking about my lashes (though I am wearing a bold lash today). No, he’s talking about those giant plastic lashes you can get for your car. I hit 50,000 subscribers last year, and to celebrate, Jake decked Trixie out in lashes.
“You kept them on? You are the best. Trix wouldn’t be Trix without her lashes.”
“Of course he kept them on. I would never let him betray you like that, Paige. Also, as it turns out, they’re way harder to take off than they were to put on.” I look up to see Trevor, Jake's best friend, and the guy who’s basically another brother to me.
“Trev? What the? Aren't you supposed to be in North Carolina?”
