Page 19 of Offside

Is he going to ask me to put my clothes back on?

Or worse, is he going to call it a night and leave?

“I’ll understand if you want to go. My ex said it was ugly and distracting in bed,” I hiccup a choked sob. “He called me unfuckable. It’s why he said he slept with other women and cheated on me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

It’s not the worst thing a man has ever done. Sex with Bradley was usually with lights off and fully clothed so he would avoid touching it when we were intimate.

But that’s not what Ballas does.

Instead of confirming my worst fears and doing exactly what Bradley did, Ballas sits down beside me and reaches for my hand. Slipping his fingers through mine, he lifts our joined hands to his temple, guiding my index finger over the crevice-shaped scar at his forehead. The small indentation was hidden by his overgrown hair that he pushes out of the way.

“Do you feel this?”

I tip my gaze up and nod. “Yes.”

“And how about this one?” He raises his chin to indicate the scar hidden underneath, where stubble refuses to grow any longer.

I shrug. “Okay.”

He smirks. “Oh, and don’t forget this doozy…”

He bends over at the waist, running our hands up his left kneecap where a nice long scar is evident from some sort of knee surgery.

“Your point?”

Ballas straightens, keeping my hand in his, but furrows his brows at me. “The point I’m trying to make is that I have multiple scars on my body, yet you haven’t gotten all squeamish about them and you haven’t thought they made me too grotesque to fuck, right?”

I let out a small laugh, waving my other hand over his impeccable body. “What you’re packing makes it very hard to notice your small, insignificant scars.”

Ballas lays me back with a gentle press of his palm over my collarbone. I go willingly. He leans down and props himself on his elbow at my side. Now facing one another, mouths just inches apart, he trails a fingertip between my breasts, circling over each nipple, which pucker instantly. He continues the sensual path down to my belly button and I can no longer think straight.

His eyes sweep over my breasts, lingering at my middle in an admiring gaze. “You are beautiful, Karis. Our scars are what make us unique but don’t need to define us. Each one holds a story behind it that made us who we are today.” The heat of his body begins to light the fire that was just extinguished by my own self-conscious behavior, and his sweet words are more than I would have ever expected to hear come from a man known as The Beast.

This is not the way I thought our night together would go. I thought he’d fuck me once, maybe stay for a drink, then be on his way. That would be that. I hadn’t asked him up here for a lesson in loving my body, scars and all.

He settles his weight on top of me, his hips rolling between my thighs. Even with the interruption my embarrassment provided, Ballas is still hard and throbbing against my center. I trace my fingertip over the slopes of his shoulders and then run my thumb over the scar at his temple.

“That’s sweet of you to say, but the notable difference is that you’re a hockey player, Ballas. Injuries and scars come with the territory and are kind of part of the job. Scars makes you look rugged and tough.”

I cup his chiseled face in my palm and slide it over the generous curve of his shoulders, down the planes of his muscular back until I land on his round hockey butt. My God, what a perfect ass he has. He smirks as he rolls forward, sliding his cock over my mound, drawing out a mewl from my mouth.

The corners of his mouth quirk up. “Did you just call me sweet?”

I can’t help the snort that pops out. “And if I did? What would you do about it?”

He snarls and I suddenly find myself on top of him. I draw up my legs to straddle his bulging thighs, which aren’t the only body part that bulges underneath me. His hard erection wedges once again between my legs, connecting with my sensitive clit. I suck in a short breath and dig my knees into his sides. Then I anchor my hold on to his shoulders for leverage and give an experimental rock of my hips forward.

What freaked me out moments ago now has me panting with desire as Ballas smooths his thumb down the middle of my back again. Over and over the puckered flesh. This time the sensation travels straight to my pussy and my inner walls clench with a furious need for him to bury himself inside.

“Karis, let me make something perfectly clear,” he murmurs, lifting his head to suckle at my nipple, placing hot, searing kisses over the globes of my breasts. “You are fucking sexy as hell. Your ex is a shallow fucking asshole who is completely unworthy of you. And you are not the reason he cheated. He cheated because he’s a cheat. And the things I’m going to do to you are anything but sweet.”

God, I didn’t expect Ballas to be both tender and filthy at the same time.

Truthfully, I’m glad tonight is just a onetime thing and we won’t ever have to see each other again. I just hope he won’t walk away from this night and remember me as some lame-ass blubbering girl who cried like a baby over her ex-boyfriend’s verbal abuse.

All those thoughts are quickly shoved away when he picks up the packaged condom from the side table, rips it open with his teeth, and slides it over his erect cock. He kisses my mouth one more time and then lines up at my entrance.

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