Page 77 of Puck to the Heart
“Get up, and I’ll flash you before we leave.” That got his attention. I grinned.
“Why not now?” Plush lips pouted, the only visible part of his face.
“If I do it now, you’ll never get up.” We’d stay in bed all day, but I didn’t say it out loud. If his mind went there, we’d be here all day.
“Excellent point. Room service?” Well, it went there anyway.
“Let’s go out. Come onnnnn, I want something better than hotel coffee.” I pulled on his shoulder, but with his weight, he barely budged. When Plan A didn’t work, I slid across the bed to straddle him, trying to pull the pillow away. His hands gripped it tighter.
“You don’t honestly think you’re going to win.”
I tugged again. “Not if I play fair.”
Finally, he sat up, leaning forward to hide his face in the curve where my neck and shoulder met. “Should I be afraid?” Ash’s voice rumbled against me as he scraped his mouth against my collarbone, letting his tongue trace into the hollow there.
My fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, skating over his smooth, warm skin to rest on those obnoxiously hot muscles climbing his sides. Leaning down, I spoke close to his ear, letting my breath ghost against his skin in a way I’d learned made him shiver. “Maybe a little.” And then I dug my fingers into those muscles, tickling him until he yelped with laughter. He laughed until he flipped us, holding the weight of his body mostly off mine but pressing his legs down to keep me in place.
Ash pouted; his soft mouth dangerously close to mine. “That wassounfair.”
“It worked.”
“Did it, though? The way I see it, we’re still in bed, which is the opposite of what you were aiming for.” In the dark provided by the thick hotel curtains, we were in velvety darkness again, blocking out everything else. Everywhere we touched aligned perfectly, all his hard muscles and the soft give of me.
“Are you complaining?” Arcing my hips against his, I spoke without words. Offering myself instead of meaningless platitudes.
Plush, warm lips met my neck, following the line of my throat where he pulled aside the loose fabric of the borrowed shirt to reveal my collarbone. “No, I’m not complaining.” Stubble scraped against the delicate skin as he let his tongue trace the hollow there.
Until my stomach growled.
“Okay, maybe this worked a little.”
“So, breakfast?”
“I can eat here.”
“But I thought—oh.Oh.” Heat suffused my face and my core as I realized what he meant.”
“Room service?”
“Mmm.” He ordered with his hand between my thighs and his mouth against my skin, the rumbling of his voice sending me into a frenzy while he ordered our food. No one ever openly appreciated me this way. Only Ash had ever let those dark eyes of his rove over my body, leaving no question about how much he wanted me.
It was scary if I thought about it too much.
So, I didn’t think. Instead, I enjoyed it.
Until I decided it was his turn. Sliding my hands along the vines twining the length of his arms, I traced their swirling patterns to his hands. Grasping them, I pulled until he folded forward. With me straddling him, we were nearly the same height. He huffed when I hooked my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and tugged, but he lifted his arms to let me remove it. The warmth of his body cascaded over mine.
Rough hands slid over the bare skin of my back, and I leaned forward, pressing my cheek against an annoyingly hard pectoral muscle.
God, this is sonice.
Even with how good the sex was, somehow beingwithhim, even when he wasn’t himself was… bewitching.
And when his arms wrapped tighter around me, a little piece of me never wanted him to let go.
“Well, Ted, what we saw last night was a truly lackluster performance from Portland Knights’ Asher “The Basher” Wilder. He’s usually such a dynamic player, but please pardon the pun, he looked frozen out there on the ice.”
“It’s true, Roy. This is unlike any playing we’ve ever seen from Wilder, and he’s certainly not living up to that nickname. Where’s the fire we’re used to seeing from him?”
