CHAPTER 12
LUCY
You can use it any time you want.” He said to me. He looked me dead in the eye and gave me exactly what I wanted. The in.
We had been skating around each other for so long. I was tired of holding onto the edge of the boards, afraid of falling, getting hurt, letting go. I wanted to go full speed ahead. No, I needed to.
He made it easy really. How could I not take off my clothes right then and there and take a bath? We had time, the museum was closed. And how sweet was that? He looked for a furniture museum to surprise me. Way to go with making me wet, Sarge.
“Anytime I want?” My voice was at that sultry point like rouge lipstick and ripped stockings.
First, I unbuttoned my pants.
His breath hitched in his throat. There he was again, touching his chest, rubbing it like it hurt.
My jeans slipped down past my butt and to my thighs where I bent fully over to pull them from my ankles. My eyes stayed locked on him.
“Went with the granny panties, huh?” He leaned up against the door frame His eyes wide open. A smirk on his lips.
“You like them?” I teased. I wasn't about to wear a thong on a cold day when I knew I wasn't going to be wearing many clothes at all. I figured comfort was better than chafing.
“Surprisingly yes. They look...soft.”
“Oh, they are. Very soft.”
I sat on the side of the tiles that nestled the tub in the corner of the room and started the water.
I flicked a sock in his direction and then the other.
He wasn't moving towards me like I thought he would.
He really did like to watch. Just the thought made my skin tingle.
I stood then and pulled my turtleneck over my head, folding it and placing it on a chair near the tub.
I turned towards the tub and poured in some bubbles. “Lavender, huh?”
“It's relaxing.” He whispered.
When I looked back at Sasha, he had slid down the wall and was sitting on the floor. His knees to his chest holding my socks. His eyes peeked over his hands.
I turned to the tub and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor.
I covered my breasts with my hands and looked over my shoulder at him.
He looked like he wasn't breathing and at any moment he would spring forward and pounce on me.
I slowly pulled down my underwear and kicked them to the side.
I didn't turn around. I just lifted one leg to get into the tub.
“No.” Sasha stood up before I dropped my leg into the warm bubbly water.
I placed my leg back down and waited.
“Turn around. I need to see you first.”
It was the need part that got to me. He didn't want to see me.
He wouldn't like to see me. He needed it.
And while it was his expression, it was my feeling also.
I needed him just as much. If not more. Because when I was with Sasha he made me feel so desired and it was the best feeling in the world.
When did this happen? I wasn't going to let myself get involved with such an unrealistic man.
His popularity alone should send me running for the hills with how much he is in the public eye.
This was just supposed to be fun, something to get me out of my dry spell and remind me I was a woman and not just some hermit who only hangs out with her ten-year-old nephew.
When did I catch such feelings for him, such a need?
“You don't have to if you don't want to.” He was even quieter.
I didn't realize I had been talking to myself for so long, just standing there.
“I want to.” I slowly turned and, unsure of what to do with my arms, I took my hair and played with it in the guise of stretching.
Sasha's mouth hung open. His fists clenched for a moment before running them through his thick sandy hair with the natural wave. I could see his chest heaving, practically hear the blood pumping through his veins.
That was a relief.
“Can I get in now?” I smirked.
He nodded.
So I did. The water was sinful against my cold winter skin that never seemed to be warm.
The bubbles tingled every inch of me as I sunk lower.
By the time I was sitting, letting my head lay back on the top of the tub where it just sat against the tile, my body felt lucid.
I was swimming in a warm pleasure I hadn't felt in forever.
Sure, I could fit in my own tub at home, but my knees stuck out of the water if I wanted to sink down, or my chest was exposed if I wanted to stretch my legs. So this tub was heaven.
Big enough for two.
I turned my head slowly towards Sasha. “Like the view?”
“A little too much. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“No.” I hesitated, trying to find my voice because I was about to cross the line and really ask for it. “I wouldn't mind the company.”
“Yeah?” He stood then, crossing the room in a few steps and sitting on the edge of the tub hovering over me. His fingers dipped into the bubbles in figure eights that lingered from my chest to my stomach. “You're a beautiful woman, Lucy.”
Warmth ran over me at his words.
“I would contradict you to seem modest, but I won't. I find beauty in my flaws, so, on this rare occasion, I'm just going to say thank you, Sasha.” I closed my eyes so tight, unsure if I could take the way he looked at me.
Almost lovingly.
But I heard a rustle in the room. A belt being unclasped. Pants dropping to the floor. A watch being put on a counter.
I should be looking, hell I wanted to look, but in that moment, I was intimidated.
I knew what he looked like. I had seen the photo shoots with his shirt off and I'll be damned if I didn't investigate every one of his Instagram photos, and his old teammates photos, just to get a glimpse of his perfect hockey ass in pictures.
But this was different. This was just for me.
“Open your eyes.” His voice sounded so tight he might choke on his words.
“I can't.” I whimpered.
“Are you changing your mind?”
“No.”
“Then what?” I could hear the concern tear at him.
“Well, I don't want to make it so obvious how much I want you and I'm trying to fix my face.”
He laughed at that. His sounds got closer. His hand found the back of my soapy neck and rubbed up and down, pulling at the little wet hairs, before he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me slowly.
“Scoot forward.” He commanded.
And I did. I felt him step into the tub and lower himself behind me.
His large body, all solid muscle with soft skin, nearly over flowed the tub now that we were both inside.
His legs were on either side of mine. His fingers drew swirls on my bare back nearly causing me to faint.
The sensation was almost too much. His fingers at first were delicate, tracing my shoulder blades and down my spine.
Then he used his hands to pull all the knots from my shoulders and lower back from work.
“Oh.” I moaned.
His hands stopped at the noise I made.
I looked back at him. “Sorry.” I smirked.
Sasha leaned forward and kissed my shoulders.
Then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down onto his chest so I used him like a soft lounge.
I felt every part of him then. Could feel his breath, his heat, his hard cock against my back.
My fingers ran the length of his legs that were impossibly jacked.
I could only imagine how his ass would feel in my hands.
“Tell me what you want, Lucifer.” His breath was hot against my neck where he began to kiss and lightly, maybe a little too lightly, bite.
“Oh, ask me that again.” My head fell back and I grabbed his hair, pulling his lips to mine.
He couldn't contain his smile when he spoke. “Tell me what you want and I'll do it.” His tongue consumed my mouth and I groaned. So he did it deeper.
“I should ask you to fuck me.” I said breathlessly.
“I–I” He stuttered.
“I know you can't. Or I at least assume you can't.” I prayed the rumors weren't true. But yes, in some article Sasha had half answered the “Sex before games” question with a blush and a smirk that led me to believe he didn't fuck before a game.
“I. It– Fuck. After the game I promise. If I orgasm now my legs will be shot for the night and we need this win.” His hands, which by this time had stayed respectfully near my shoulders had started to move their way down my arm. A thumb grazing the curve of my breast on the way.
“I'll try not to take it personally. Even though it's fucking tragic.” I huffed out a laugh that was quickly stolen from my lips as his warm wet hand grabbed my chin and twisted my face in his direction. Commanding and firm.
“That doesn't mean I can't–” His mouth lingered open. He licked his lips. “Make you scream my name.”
I flushed a red heat from head-to-toe and if I wasn't already in the water I would be embarrassed as to how wet his words made me.
“Which name? Which name do you want me to call out when you make me come? Sasha or Sarge?” I smirked.
He was motionless behind me since he got in the tub, but just then his hips ground into my back. His arms wrapped around me. One hand cupping a breast. The other flat against my stomach and slowly moving down.
I swallowed hard, the heat of him and the hot water making me sweat.
“Well, which name am I going to call?” I was panting.
“Sasha, always Sasha when we are making lo–” I could hear his mouth shut like a trap, but he started talking right after again. “Sasha, when I am making you come. OK?” He pushed my wet hair to one side of my shoulder.
“OK.” I stilled as his hand moved even further down. Just past my belly button. His fingers just grazing the top of my hair.
“OK, who?” He growled.
“OK, Sasha.” I whispered.
I brought my hands behind my head and found his hair to hold onto.
The hand that was on my breast held my nipple tight between his fingers, high up near the knuckle.
With his other hand he finally touched me.
It seemed Sasha “The Sarge” Dimitrovic's hands weren't just made to enforce, his hands were made for sin. His hands were made for my sin.