Page 79 of These Wicked Games
We didn’t talk about it last night, I didn’t want to push further, but something has to be done. I don’t know what Andre will want to do, but I know that if Tripp comes within twenty feet of my man, I will tear him limb from limb.
This all brings me back to the test, the switched label. I have some suspicions, but what I don’t have is motive. Why would he switch our cups? Tripp could easily have gotten Andre out of it if he’d tested negative. Bringing me down doesn’t even make sense. I never stood in the way of any of Andre’s opportunities, and we weren’t even in the same position. There were doors open for him that never would have been for me because of who his father is. None of it makes sense.
“Stop staring,” Andre mumbles into the pillows.
Fuck, here I go again, smiling like an idiot. I love his morning attitude. I lean into him, kissing his shoulder, and he squirms a bit under my lips but doesn’t move much. My fingers trail a path down his spine. Unlike me his skin is untouched by tattoos. Milesof gorgeous skin for me to put my lips on and caress with my tongue. My fingers dip under the blanket, grabbing a handful of his glorious ass. “If you roll over, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“It’s sleep time!” he growls, but I know I’ve got him. After a moment he moves, huffing and puffing the entire time as he rolls onto his back. I love his fire. When he was on the Vipers he used to brawl all the time. He loved attacking and tripping guys up when they came near the blue. Now I see that for what it was—an outlet. “I hate you.”
I remember a time when that may have been true.
After I fucked him last night, we showered quickly, and I made him come again with one hand wrapped around his cock and the other around his throat. It’s becoming my favorite activity off the ice. Although a blow job on the ice . . . ? Okay, I may have to look into that. Andre stretches and I can’t help myself, leaning in and taking one of his nipples into my mouth. I drink in the soft exhale that leaves those plump lips.
I move on top of him, kissing him hard. I love his mouth on mine. His fingers lace around my biceps and he rolls his hips up, grinding his gorgeous dick against mine. I trail kisses across his face and down his neck. The scent of my body wash on his skin wakes up some primal part in me. Kissing down his chest, I pause, looking up. Andre’s dark eyes glaze a bit. “What’s wrong?”
I watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Thank you.”
“For what? The orgasms?” No fucking problem. “More where they came from.”
“For believing me.” I freeze as his words wash over me. I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up with a monster like that. One that everyone praises.
One that I praised. “I’m sorry, for all the things I—”
“No.” Andre shakes his head. “Don’t do that. You didn’t know. No one does.” Still, my stomach sinks in on itself thinking about how much I used to talk about him. How much I look up to him.Looked. Looked up to him. “Just, thank you.” I press a kiss to his forehead, closing my eyes. After a second Andre wraps his arms around me, holding me to him.
“I meant what I said.” Andre’s grip lessons. I look down at him and can’t help the smile that springs to my lips. Pouty lips, hazel eyes that burn so bright. Andre is handsome in a way that’s hard to look at. He’s so fucking beautiful. “No one will ever hurt you again.”
“Even you?” The vulnerability in his eyes hits me.
“I am a dumbass, so the possibility is high.” That makes him laugh. “However, I have no doubt you’ll have zero problem telling me when I piss you off.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
I lay another kiss along the side of his face. “I will never physically hurt you without your consent. Never. I may say shit I don’t mean, and we will fight—brutally, most likely, since we’re both stubborn shitheads.” He grins. “But I will never, ever lay a hand on you out of anger. That I can promise you. You’re safe here.”
He pulls me against him, drowning me in a harsh kiss. “Thank you.”
I’m not sure what’s happening, but I don’t want to put a name to it. I can’t. I don’t know what this means. All I know is that I don’t want it to stop. “Can I suck your dick now?” I ask, and he laughs, nodding. My lips make a path down his stomach, and kissing his pelvic bones, I fit myself between his muscular thighs.His heavy balls hang right in front of my face. I lean in, taking one into my mouth and drinking in his moan. I could do this all fucking day. Sex has never been bad, the women I’ve been with were gorgeous and most of the time sweet, but it always felt like some piece of my puzzle was missing.
Who knew that piece was Andre Tavares’s cock. I take him inside my mouth, humming along his length. I have no desire to bottom, but I have to say, with his cock pulsing between my lips, I wouldn’t be opposed to trying just once.
I suck him hard, lapping up his precum, and I try to take most of him. I like to think I’m getting better at it. Andre’s fingers find my hair, and I savor the sharp sting when his nails dig into my scalp. Spreading his thighs wider, I gently pat his rim with my thumb. I know he’s probably a bit sore, because I was not gentle and I love that he doesn’t want me to be. Slowly I stroke his hole, before dipping my thumb inside as I suck. “I’m close.”
I suck him without restraint, holding his hips down when his back arches and he unleashes down my throat. I drink him down, loving the taste of him. Fuck. So fucking good. I gag a bit when he shudders, his fingers holding me down on his cock. I choke and sputter around him, slapping his thigh, and the fucker chuckles as he lets up on my scalp. “Dick!” I wipe my mouth, glaring at this fucking prick.
Andre’s hand rests on his chest, and an easy smile spreads across his handsome face. He looks so happy and sated. I put that look there. I did that. “For someone who’s never sucked cock before me, you sure are great at it.”
“I’m great at everything I do.” He rolls his eyes. Naturally I give him the finger, getting up off the bed. I have to piss. I leave himthere, walking to my bathroom, ready to spend the entire weekend with him. I meant what I said. He’s either wearing my clothes or nothing at all while he’s here. Those are the only two options I’ll allow.
I wash my hands, then dry them on a towel, just as my phone vibrates so loud it startles me. I forgot I’d left it in here last night. I unlock it, confused at what I’m seeing. What the fuck? Twenty-seven missed calls. What the actual fuck? Some are from Coach, a lot are from Jessica. I have various ones here and there from numbers I don’t recognize, and then a handful from Greyson. Jesus! It vibrates again. I see Grey’s name and answer it. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Kuli, holy shit, I’ve been calling you all fucking morning. Where have you . . . You know what, I know where you’ve been,” he bites out. I walk back toward my bedroom. “I’m assuming you just fucking woke up?”
“Yeah, wow, slow down. What’s going on?” I step into my room, and Andre’s terrified eyes hit me. His phone is in his hand. “What—”
Andre’s eyes hit me in the chest. “Oli, I’m so fucking sorry.” He chokes out a sob. What the fuck is going on?
“Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on. Right now!” I bite out to both Andre and Grey.
