Page 67 of Face Off
“I don’t know.” I roll my hips and a sigh slips out of me. I could get off like this: the friction from the seam of my shorts. His fingers stroking my ass. “You started it.”
“And you aren’t stopping it.”
“Because I’m horny and your dick against my thigh is better than the vibrator I shoved under my pillows when you almost knocked down my door.”
“Hang on.” Maverick pulls back and looks at me. There’s a bead of sweat on his forehead, and his pupils are blown wide. “Are you okay with this?”
“The talking? Not particularly. I can think of a dozen other things I’d rather be doing, and half of them involve your fingers.”
“What do the other half involve?”
My eyes bounce to the front of his sweatpants, and I lift an eyebrow. “Want to find out?”
His laugh is soft and boyish, and he kisses me again.
This kiss is lazier. A slow, sensual burst of lust as he takes his time with me.
He guides my arms above my head. My legs wrap around his waist. His lips glide against mine, coaxing them open so he can sink his teeth into my bottom lip.
I moan at the sting and quick bite of pleasure. Maverick answers with a pleased hum that rivals a wildfire as it burns its way through me.
“Are we doing this?” He bends his neck and moves his mouth to my shirt. He sucks on my nipple through the cotton, soaking the material until it sticks to my skin in a translucent haze. “Are you ready to admit that you want me, Hartwell?”
“Fuck.” I wiggle against him, and he presses my hands harder into the wall.
“That wasn’t a yes or no.”
“Why not? Maybe your dick will make me hate you a little less.”
“I have a nice dick. No complaints, ever.” Maverick moves to my other nipple and sucks on the pointed peak. Rolls his tongue over the thin fabric, and heat builds at the base of my spine. “And you could never hate me.”
“I hate you more than I hate anyone else,” I say, but when he bites the soft flesh of my breast, we both know I’m a liar.
“Is that why you’re grinding against me, Red? Why you’re getting my sweatpants all wet? Because youhateme?”
“Yes.” I move my hips in a circle and gasp when the tip of his cock brushes against my clit. “But I’d like you a whole lot more if you got on your knees like a good boy and showed me you know how to use your tongue and fingers for something less annoying than running your mouth. If not, I have no problem making you sit in a chair and watch while I get off from eight inches of silicone.”
“Well, shit.” His thumb strokes my collarbone then the line of my throat. “Sounds like heaven on earth.”
“Rules,” I say. I try to break my wrists from his hold, but he doesn’t let me budge. “This is a one-night thing.”
“It’ll probably help us on the ice. We can fuck out the tension between us and be good as new.”
“It’s only fucking. I don’t date hockey players.”
“And I don’t date period. I’ve never been with the same woman twice.”
“Then this will be easy. It’s just sex. You leave as soon as we’re finished. We don’t speak of this ever again, and we don’t let it affect our professional roles.”
“Deal. Last time you were tested?”
“Six months ago. Everything was negative, and I haven’t been with anyone since. You?”
“Over a month ago. Also negative.”
I bob my head in some sort of nod, not sure what else to say.
“Have I finally figured out a way to shut you up, Red?” Maverick murmurs. “A way to keep your smart mouth from running all the fucking time?”
