Page 87 of False Play
The way my name came out of her lips like a plea and the way she gripped my cock was all it took for me to tense beneathher touch and chase my orgasm. Stars danced on the corners of my vision as I moaned, “Fuck, Kenny. Fuck.”
I had never come inside my pants, not even as a horny teenager. Still, this had to be one of the hottest experiences of my life. I’d do it all over again as long as it was with her.
By the time we both came down from our highs, we were still panting. She unhooked her leg from my waist and rested her head against my heaving chest. I dropped a kiss on top of her sweaty curls and inhaled her scent. She smelled like coconut and strawberries, and I engraved the smell into my memory.
I didn’t want to forget the simplicity of the moment after one of the best things that had ever happened to me.
“You okay?” I mumbled as I placed my chin on top of her head.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “You?”
“Yeah,” I croaked.
There was no mistaking the way my throat tightened, or the way my heart felt like a thunderstorm trapped inside my ribcage as it tried to shuffle through all my emotions.
I hadn’t even slept with her yet, and my heart fucking knew once wasn’t going to be enough.
I was free-falling into the abyss, and what scared me the most was knowing Kennedy wasn’t on the same page as me.
TWENTY-TWO
HENRY
IS CAT DADDY GOING TO SPANK US?
December passedin the blink of an eye, which was surprising, because I thought being on the bench would have made time move ridiculously slow.
But I kept training—hard. It helped me stay out of my head, for the most part. I was also busy every second of every day, and I had Kennedy to thank. Every moment I spent in Chicago, I was either teaching the kids how to skate or doing volunteer work. The press died down significantly, but there were still random articles here and there about our relationship.
It’d been almost two weeks since Kennedy and I had our…moment. And I couldn’t lie, I wanted a repeat. I was dying to get anactualtaste of her. To run my hands all over her body and get my fill. I was hungry—and desperate—to make her mine. But between her work schedule and my away games, making time for ourselves was almost impossible.
“Val,” Kennedy called out, exasperated. “Wasn’t one of the concession managers supposed to bring the popcorn machine and hot chocolate materials? Didn’t you schedule that with her?”
Family skate was starting in about an hour, and Kennedy had been running around, stressed out of her mind. Hayes and I tried to help, but one thing you should do when Kennedy was pissed off? Avoid her at all costs. Not that I’d applied the rule to myself. I was like a lost puppy, following her around in case she needed anything.
Val frowned. “I did.” She brought her phone out of her white puffer jacket. “Let me text her.”
“I’m going to have some very pissed-off kids if those snacks don’t magically appear,” she murmured, rubbing her temples. Her eyes found mine, and she gave me a confused frown. “What are you still doing here? Aren’t the guys playing? Go with them.”
“Hell, no. I’m not trying to smell like death before Family Skate starts.”
“You play every year,” she deadpanned.
I smirked and took a risk by closing the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her waist. I couldn’t help it. Touching her had become a necessity. “I know, but I have a hot date this year. I don’t want her to think I’m disgusting.”
She laughed, her eyes meeting mine with mirth. “Sorry to break it to you, pretty boy, but every time you come home from a game with that bag perched on your shoulders, I think you’re disgusting.” She scrunched her nose. “You need a new one.”
My heart all but leaped out of my chest when she saidhome. It made me happy to know she believed that place was hers as much as it was mine.
I huffed a laugh. “I can’t help it.”
“Because of your athlete’s foot and all?” she asked with a tilt of her head, her tone filled with amusement.
I gasped. “I can’t believe you’re throwing that at my face!”
“Oh, come on! The joke wasrightthere.” She laughed. “I had to take the opportunity.”
“You do love to humble me.”
