Revenge Puck (Shot at Love #1)

Chapter 14

14

Preston

W omen are so damn confusing.

Or maybe it’s my lack of experience that’s making me confused.

When we got back to my hotel room, which was thankfully documented by several fans in the lobby, Elle asked if I had a shirt she could change into since her dress wasn’t the most comfortable for curling up on the hotel room sofa. A small loveseat that we both squeeze into, after she’s wearing one of my black Warhawk tees that comes down past her knees.

It shouldn’t be so hot seeing her wearing my shirt that swallows her whole, but it is. Mostly because it’s mine, but also because I know she’s only wearing her panties underneath. No bra since it’s hanging with her dress. And that knowledge is driving me crazy since she insists on sitting on her knees, knees that are touching my leg, with the cotton tee riding up to reveal the majority of her legs.

She said she was still angry at me from earlier, but if she wasn’t, would she let me pull her onto my lap and kiss her?

I shouldn’t be thinking about anything but the game tomorrow, and here I am, wondering what kind of panties Elle is wearing. What color, what style, what texture? Is she the type of girl who wears thongs? If so, I may combust just thinking about how amazing her ass would look in one.

Then, as if her wearing just my shirt wasn’t enough torture, our slices of chocolate pie came and I had to watch as Elle savored each and every bite, moaning around her spoon, then licking it clean.

I was a sweaty, nervous wreck eating my own slice, then having to go wash it down with a big glass of water.

When I come back to the loveseat, the side of Elle’s head is resting against the back of the leather, her eyes closed, sound asleep.

I can’t leave her sitting up like that all night, and I sure as shit can’t put her in the king-sized bed and contort my big-ass body to sleep on the loveseat either.

We can both sleep comfortably in the bed without even touching. Even if I want to touch her more than I want to breathe at the moment.

Scooping Elle up with my arms around her bottom and neck, I take her over and lay her down gently on the pillow. She doesn’t so much as twitch as I tuck her in with the bedding.

Elle

I wake up with an awful crick in my neck, sleeping on a flat pillow that isn’t my own, in a bed more comfortable than my own.

Popping up, I tug down the enormous tee, that had ridden up to my stomach, back down over my knees to survey the bedroom. It’s a nice hotel room dusted with the light of the rising sun peeking through the gap in the heavy blinds.

And beside me, the biggest man I’ve ever seen is flopped out on his stomach. His broad, bare back takes up more than half of the enormous bed.

I must have fallen asleep watching TV with Preston last night, and he tucked me into bed before joining me.

Not that I blame him. I could’ve managed to tuck my knees and curl up on the small loveseat, but even if he threw his legs over the rolled arm, he would’ve been squished.

Easing slowly out of bed so as to not wake the hockey player, I peel back the covers and then sneak a glance over at Preston’s lower body, relieved and a little disappointed that he’s wearing black and red plaid pajama pants.

Tiptoeing to the bathroom, I use the facilities, wash my hands, then swallow a gulp of minty green mouthwash. I swish it around to get rid of my morning breath while undoing my chignon to run my fingers through the tangled strands and redo it into a messy bun.

Figuring my best bet is to get dressed and slip out to avoid any awkwardness, I head back to the bedroom to grab my dress from where I hung it up in the small closet. Since Preston is still out cold, I quickly tug his shirt off to slip the dress back over my head.

It’s just covered my ass when a deep, rumbly voice says, “Good morning.”

Startling, I spin around to find Preston’s head still resting on his folded arms, bleary eyes staring right at me. He looks grumpy and sleepy at being woken up, and yet, somehow, still stupidly hot.

“Hi. Good morning. I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you. I should have…I should’ve changed in the bathroom.”

“Glad you didn’t. And I didn’t see much.”

“Oh, well, good,” I say in relief, just before he adds, “Just all those cute little rosebuds on your sheer panties and bra. Now I’m wide awake.”

“Preston!” I exclaim.

Throwing his tee at his face, I tug my dress the rest of the way down my thighs, my face flushing in embarrassment. “First you tuck me into your bed, then you sneak peeks at my underwear while I’m changing?” Although I can’t blame him for the second part. I really should’ve taken my dress back to the bathroom and changed there.

Chuckling, the grizzly bear sits up, revealing his hairy, muscular chest and hard stomach as he stretches his arms above his head. “You fell asleep. I couldn’t leave you kneeling on the loveseat all night. Well, I could have…” he trails off, eyes darkening as they remain locked on me as if he’s thinking about a less innocent type of kneeling. “And you know I couldn’t sleep on the loveseat and chance my back aching before the big game tonight.”

“Oh, I know there’s no way that all of you would fit into such a tight space.”

“Not that kind of tight space,” he replies with a grin.

His quick response makes me begin to wonder what’s wrong with the two of us. Last night was completely innocent, just two friends sharing a meal and watching shows together. How is it that everything coming out of our mouths this morning sounds like innuendo?

“I should go,” I say, gathering my purse and shoes I’ll put on in the elevator.

“You sure you’re okay, Elle?” Preston asks, sheets rustling as he gets out of bed. “With last night, I mean?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. I’ve never slept with a man before last night. I mean, never just slept with a man. You know what I mean. Anyway, it was…fun,” I say in a rush while undoing the deadbolt on the door.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Preston says from right behind me. I try to open the door, but it won’t budge but an inch. The big man behind me reaches up to push the door shut so he can unlatch the metal bar. Ah, that’s what I forgot. “Do you really have to leave so early?”

“I have an appointment at eight-thirty,” I lie.

Preston’s palm flattens against the door. “Do you really?” he asks softly, his minty breath blowing across my neck makes me shiver.

Minty breath?

Turning around to face him, I ask, “How is your breath so fresh right out of bed?”

“I woke up an hour ago.”

“Oh.”

We’re standing so close that only a few inches separate our faces. I take a step back, leaning against the door, which is when I notice the obvious, impressive tenting of Preston’s pajama pants. I tell myself that it’s just how all men his age wake up, raring to go. God knows, I lost count of how many times Christian poked me awake. Since we both slept in the nude, he had easy access to push right on inside.

When I look back up at Preston’s face, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes are staring at my mouth when he says, “Were you lying about an early appointment?”

“Yes,” I whisper, since I’m obviously a horrible liar.

“Will you stay long enough for me to kiss you goodbye?”

“Wh-why? There, um, aren’t any phones recording us here in your room,” I remind him.

He leans forward, rubbing his nose along my throat…sniffing me. “No, there’s not.”

“So then why…”

“Because I liked kissing you.” His damp lips brush the side of my neck, making me instantly get wet for him.

“But…”

“But what? You don’t want me to?” This time his open-mouthed kiss on my neck has me biting my lip to keep from moaning.

“No, no. I do, it’s just, I could use a shower, and you…you said you wouldn’t ever be tempted for a taste.”

“Huh?” he asks, his tickling lips and tongue leaving me breathless and dizzy.

My hands grab his thick biceps to keep myself upright, and well, because they feel really nice.

“When…when we first met outside the arena, you called me cupcake,” I remind him.

“That was before I knew you, before I kissed you and didn’t want to ever stop.” Between his mouth and words, I’m melting into a puddle, aching, and more turned on than I think I’ve ever been in my life.

“I thought you weren’t attracted to me,” I explain.

The space between our bodies vanishes in an instant, the hardness of him pressing into my stomach, causing me to gasp.

Preston chuckles at my reaction and says, “How could you possibly think I’m not attracted to you when you can see and feel just how badly I want you?”

“Doesn’t that, um, usually happen first thing in the morning?”

“I’ve been aching for you since we met, Elle. All day yesterday. Last night. I couldn’t sleep for wondering what you were wearing underneath my shirt. And now that I know...” he growls against my neck and my leg is suddenly curled around his hip to pull his lower body closer to mine.

Even after Preston’s low groan at the contact, I ask, “So, you do want me?”

“God, yes.” He pushes himself against me harder, the soft fabric of his pants rubbing against the crotch of my damp panties. “You have no idea how much I want you. Every time I see you, I get so damn hard. Touching you, tasting you, it’s all I can think about.”

With that confession, I grab the sides of Preston’s face to bring it to down to mine. As soon as our lips connect, his tongue seeks mine, thrusting deep, mimicking the movement of our lower bodies.

Preston grips my thigh, holding it tightly to his hip. When he must be confident that I have no plans to lower it, his big, warm palm slides down, grunting into my mouth when he grabs a handful of my bottom. “I need to see more of this perfect ass.” He squeezes it a few times before a thick finger slides underneath the strip of fabric running between my cheeks. He moves lower and lower until… “God, you’re soaking wet,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Since the second your lips touched my neck,” I confess.

His lips leave mine to find that spot underneath my ear again while his hand runs back up, over my hip, to shove down the front of my panties.

“Oh god!” I cry out when his thumb brushes my clit. Grabbing Preston’s arm, I clutch it tight while squirming as much as I can against the door, seeking more contact. His thick finger teases lower before it wiggles inside of me, making me gasp.

“This… oh …this was supposed to be…fake,” I remind him and myself as the warm, liquid pressure builds in my lower belly.

“I know. Fuck, I know that,” Preston agrees. His mouth sucks on my neck hard enough to leave a mark. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“And…you’re leaving…tonight after the game.”

Not even that truth can chase away my release that’s at this very moment barreling toward me like a bullet train. I’m going to come on his fingers and then…then what happens?

Those thoughts fade away as my muscles tighten around his finger and I explode. I hold his arm tight, keeping it where I need it as I cry out through the pleasurable waves.

Preston’s lips tug at my neck as if trying to draw out the ecstasy longer.

All too soon, the intense sensation begins to fade.

I want more. Need more.

I reach for the front elastic of Preston’s pants, but his hand slips from my panties to grab my wrist, stopping me.

“You don’t want me to…” I trail off when his mouth and his tongue returns to duel with mine.

“I want it all,” Preston says when he finally pulls back to look at my face. “But I’m leaving tonight. I would need more than one time with you, cupcake. You deserve so much more than one fucking time.”

And while his words soften the blow, it still doesn’t change what Preston’s doing.

He’s rejecting me.

Preston

God, I want to be inside of Elle so damn bad. My dick is weeping at the thought.

But my head is putting on the brakes.

I don’t want to have a meaningless, one-time romp with Elle. That wouldn’t be fair to her, even if she says it’s what she wants right now.

So, despite how badly I want more, I have to stop this before things go further than a kiss and an orgasm for her.

Elle is still hung up on Riley’s sorry ass. They just ended things, so I don’t want to rush her into something with me. Not to mention that I’m not sure if my ego is ready for the comparison.

I don’t have any recent practice in bed. What if it’s not good for Elle? I don’t want her to compare me to that son of a bitch.

Of course, Riley’s probably great at sex since he’s been with hordes of women while I’ve not been near a woman’s body in years. That I remembered where the clit was is a miracle.

“I wish I could rip your dress off and throw you on the bed,” I tell Elle honestly. “You have no idea how much I want to do that. But…I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Her eyes lower to the erection jutting out of my pajama pants, proving I very much can .

“I, we, shouldn’t. I’ve got the game tonight and have this thing about not…indulging right before.”

“Oh,” she says. The disappointed in that one word has me rethinking everything.

No. That’s just my dick trying to take over control of my entire body.

Trying to explain myself better, I tell Elle, “While I would love to spend the rest of the day worshipping you, if I get on my knees, I know I’ll get too excited and there won’t be any stopping my dick from exploding. I need that…edge in the game if we’re going to win.”

“Then, I guess I should go.”

I nod my head, even if I wish she would stay and…what? Stay on the other side of the room so I’ll keep my hands and other body parts to myself?

“Thanks for dinner and dessert, and that…” she trails off, her face flushed.

“You’re welcome for all of it.”

There’s a pause for a long moment and we just look at each other.

“Ah, Preston?”

“Yeah, cupcake?”

“I can’t leave until you let me.”

That’s when I finally realize that I’m still pressing her to the door, my chest brushing her luscious breasts.

“Sorry,” I mutter, forcing my bare feet to take two steps back so she can go.

“Good luck tonight. Try not to get ejected,” Elle says softly, giving me a small smile before she turns around, opens the door, and slips out.