Page 90 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“I really don’t.I do Pilates, I cook, I work, and I read books that Laurel wants to read, but the librarian at school says are too mature for her.So I have to vet them first.My hobby is pre-screening fiction for my ridiculously smart, bookworm daughter so she doesn’t accidentally stumble across graphic decapitation or an orgy.”
He snorted.“So, noGame of Thrones?”
“The books aren’t so bad.The show?Hell no.”
He snorted again.“Cooking can be a hobby.You enjoy it, don’t you?”
“Are we really sitting here half naked arguing about what can and can’t be considered a hobby?”
“Are you out of your head?”
Shocked that I was, I reared my head back a little.“Yeah.”
“Good.I want you, Gabrielle.Badly.”He glanced down at his lap where the tent still stood tall and proud.“But if you’re not ready …”
“I’m ready,” I breathed.“I just … it’s been a while.And … the age gap … and the—”
He yanked the pillow away and covered me again.“Stop talking.Stop thinking.I don’t care about the age gap.I don’t care about small town gossips.I care about you.I care about your kids.And right now, I care about finally,finallygetting to find out what color underwear you have on and tearing them off you.”
My eyes went wide and need thrummed through me as I wrapped my arms around his neck.“Okay.I … I care about that too.”
“And who knows,” he said, dropping his mouth back to my nipple and swirling his tongue around it, “maybe your new hobby can be getting eaten out by me every day?How does that sound?”Holding himself up on one elbow, he started to peel my leggings off with his free hand.
I swallowed and lifted my hips for him.“Th-that sounds like a great hobby.”
The smile in his eyes turned me into a puddle.“And it’s something we can do together.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Maverick
Ipressedkissesoverher breasts, down her toned abdomen, and over each hip bone before finally tugging her leggings and nude underwear off all the way.She nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced down her body at me with wariness in her gaze as my mouth hovered over her pussy.Smirking, I pressed my nose to the thin, trimmed, dark patch of hair, and inhaled deep, pulling her unique feminine scent deep into my lungs and straight into my long-term memory bank.
Hunkering down onto my belly, I shouldered her thighs apart a little more, and she bent her knees, planting her bare feet on the bed.Even her toes with the siren-red nail polish and little matching rings on each second toe were cute.With my finger, I explored her pussy lips, spreading them to reveal her shiny pink center, plump and ready for me.Sliding a finger into her channel, I pulled it out and swirled it around her clit, which caused her hips to jump off the bed and make me smile.
I did it again, and again, earning the same reaction along with a low moan.She sunk deeper into the mattress and I brought my mouth over her clit and sucked.At the same time, I pushed two fingers into her pussy and curled them.
“Oh god,” she crooned, her voice breathy and deeper than normal.
Releasing her clit, I circled it with my tongue, continuing to fuck her with my fingers.Her hips rocked, pressing her mound against my nose—which I loved.Her fingers gripped my hair, and she pulled me harder against her pussy, riding my face as her orgasm grew closer.I was living out my teenage fantasy, and it was better than I could have ever imagined.I was having sex with Gabrielle Campbell, the sexiest, most mysterious woman I’d ever met.
Back when I was fifteen and living in Gabrielle’s house, I was a virgin, and despite all the locker room chat, knew nothing about how to please a woman.I actually bought a bag of peaches and practiced eating out in my room, never knowing when I’d get the opportunity to do it for real, but wanting to be prepared.I was raised to practice until I could do it in my sleep, and while my parents intended that to be for hockey, I applied it to other things as well.
I would like to think that eating those peaches prepared me for the real thing when it eventually happened, and now I really could do it in my sleep.I wasn’t sleeping now though.I was very much awake, and my cock strained hard against the bed as I continued to feast on the woman of my dreams.I pulled my fingers from her and replaced them with my tongue.
Her grip on my hair tightened as she sighed, “Oh … oh.”Her pussy gushed and I lapped up every drop while moving my finger to her clit and wiggling it back and forth.“I’m … I’m close,” she breathed.
I continued with what I was doing.If that’s what was going to push her over the edge, I definitely wasn’t going to stop.Shouldering her legs a little wider, I pushed my tongue into her deeper, then pulled it free, circling her entrance.I guess that was what did it, because everything my lips and tongue touched swelled.Her hip lifts paused and even more of her delicious arousal flowed into my mouth as she found her first release.
I didn’t stop my finger or tongue until she collapsed like a rag doll, and released the deepest sigh so far.Then she relinquished my hair from her tight grasp.
I grabbed my shirt from the side of the bed and casually swept it across my mouth before climbing up her body again.She opened her eyes, the amber of her irises more like swirling gold encasing big, fathomless pupils.
“Pants … off,” she croaked, her chest rising and falling quickly as she reached for the waistband of my sweats.
I rolled over to my back and yanked both my sweats and boxers off in one fell swoop.Then, I reached into the drawer of my nightstand and broke a condom off the strip of them, tearing the packet open at the same time.I rolled it on, then positioned myself back over her.With wide eyes, she stared down between our bodies where my cock bobbed, protected and eager.
“You’re, uh … you’re really good at that,” she said.
