Page 93 of Arresting the Hockey Player
It’s hard not to notice her sexy hip sway as she walks across the dance floor. With my body brushed up against hers, the heat feels combustible.
I want her in a way I haven’t wanted anyone in a long time.
She’s not just another girl. I don’t want her as a fling or a quick romp.
Charlotte Grace holds the key to my heart. I didn’t realize it until tonight. Everything about her is perfect.
I mean, sure, she royally screwed me over in terms of my kid when she first met him, but I can see that it was in an effort to protect him. It was a mistake, and both of us are to blame. I kept him a secret from her. Maybe if I hadn’t done that, the arrest, the fact that he was returned to his mother, and the custody battle would never have happened.
The past is just that. It can’t be undone.
It’s time to move forward, and I’ve slowly been allowing myself to do that with Charlotte. I’ve been pushing her into the friend zone as much as I can after all that’s happened between us.
But at every opportunity, when she’s snarky and sassy, I find myself kissing her to shut her up. Whether it’s my heart or my dick begging for her, they are one and the same, me wanting Charlotte Grace.
I’ve just been too blind to see it, too focused on Zayn, which isn’t bad. My son deserves the first spot in my life, above my career, which has been a jolting reality, but I’ve had the support of the nanny to keep me on task with my job. I’m at the games and practices on time.
Watching Charlotte with Zayn, how sweet she is with him and able to manage his little outbursts, has me envious. For a woman who swears she doesn’t want kids, the more I hear her talk about it, the more I realize that she’s just scared.
Afraid of what comes next.
Terrified of the physical act of childbirth.
Frightened for the unknown.
There are no guarantees. I’ve learned that lesson along the way. And some of the best surprises are those that come least expected, like Zayn. He definitely was not planned.
Dancing with Charlotte is easy. My hand at her lower back feels natural. We flirt, both of us treading carefully until she does that wicked thing with her tongue on my ear, and fuck it, I can feel my dick responding to her ministrations.
Thankfully, I’m pressed tight against her. I’m sure she feels my cock straining against my trousers, nestled up against her, but she doesn’t so much as look down or comment on it.
And that’s when I say and do the unthinkable. She makes me moan and I challenge her to screaming my name on the dance floor, without ever leaving our spot.
Charlotte doesn’t tell me I’m crazy, which I probably am.
She doesn’t suggest I walk away and embarrass myself further when any number of my teammates could see my cock at full attention.
No. Charlotte Grace says that she wants to see me try to arouse her.
Fuck me.
I have to do this without anyone knowing what’s happening until her final moment of ecstasy. And there aren’t enough couples on the dance floor for me to physically feel her up and turn her on.
I have to get creative.
I pull her closer, tighter. My knee slides between her thighs, and she gives a sharp gasp as I put pressure on her center. “Good girl,” I say, pleased at her breathing and soft moans.
Her tongue darts out, tracing the corner of her lips as she tries to regain some semblance of control.
Good luck,sweetheart.
With my left hand on her lower back, I stroke her over her dress, my fingers moving back and forth in the way they would if they were buried between her thighs. My fingers inch lower, but they’re still teasing her, still on her back, dipping lower toward her bottom.
Charlotte emits a soft hum from the back of her throat. Her cheeks are red, her eyes slightly glazed over.
My breath tickles her ear and neck. If I can’t finger fuck her or drive my cock inside of her, then I’ll have to get creative to get her off another way.
“I want to rip that dress right off your body,” I whisper into her ear.
