Chapter 30 Misty
MISTY
Ifucking love hockey, and I really fucking love fucking hockey players.
The silvery-gray eyes widen with surprise as I straddle him.
With the snow covering the windows, the inside of the truck is freezing.
Our breath mingles, crystallizes in a smoky haze around us. The stubble on his jaw is rough under my lips as I kiss his face. A groan rumbles in his chest as my tongue pushes into his mouth.
I grab his hand, pushing his fingers under my skirt to let him feel how wet I am for him. “I didn’t put my panties back on in the locker room.”
“Shit, Gumdrop.”
I grab the bottle of whiskey that Granny Keagan presented us winners and take a long swig as I grind against his fingers. “I love sex after a hockey game. And I’m a fucking slut for hockey players.”
He hisses as I reach for his zipper.
“Riding cock is even better when I just won, though.”
“Cocky little slut. You’re nice and wet for me, aren’t you, though?” He slides the fingers in my mouth as I grind my wet cunt against his cock, teasing myself with the hard length.
He rolls on a condom with one hand, the other strong on the back of my neck as he pulls me forward to claim my mouth.
My legs still ache from all the skating, but I raise myself up on my knees. The tip of his cock pokes against my opening. I bite my lip as he strokes my clit, spreading my pussy so I can ease the tip in.
“Fuck, you have a nice ass.” His fingers bruise my thighs and squeeze my ass, bare under the skirt.
He doesn’t jam me down on his cock, though, a lazy smile on his face.
“I’m waiting for you to do the work.” He puts his hands behind his head and leans back in the seat. “Ride my cock.”
“You’re such a sore loser.” I slap his chest.
“You’re the sore winner.”
“I’m not the one who started a fight.”
“I didn’t start it. I finished it,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Don’t touch.” I shove him back against the seat, hard.
And he just lets me do it.
All that raw male power—he’s the violent monster, and I have him on a chain. I revel in the power of knowing that I can make him do whatever I want.
I sink down on him again, my breath fogging the air as I exhale a moan. My pussy is almost used to his cock. Almost.
My head tips back, and I groan as I rock back and forth on that thick length, easing it into my pussy.
Talbot’s head tips back. His biceps flex, and the muscles under his T-shirt ripple as my hips twitch, seating him deeper into me until my thighs connect with his hip bones.
I kiss him. My fingers dig into his shoulders as my hips splay. I rise on him slowly.
His teeth bare, and he growls.
With him still in me, I reach down, slip my fingers under my skirt, and stroke my own clit.
“Don’t fucking touch.” I snap at him when he tries to reach out.
His eyes are dark and dangerous as he watches me.
I lose the rhythm of grinding down on him. His hands hover on either side of my face, caressing the pockets of air around my body as I pant against the rough jaw while I work my clit. My hips grind needy circles on the cock encased in my pussy.
He pushes up my sweater and my bra to suckle at my tits as I ride him.
After releasing one nipple with a wet sucking noise, he moves to suck the other, rolling it on his tongue and clamping his teeth on it.
The friction of his teeth on my nipple as I pump my cunt on his cock is enough to make me come, my teeth scraping his stubble as I do.
I feel him twitch inside of me as the orgasm pulses on his cock. He ignores my command and strokes my raw clit, making me whimper.
I bite down on his shoulder, move to his neck so I can lick it as I raise up slowly off of him.
“Fuck this shit.” Talbot grabs my waist. His hips jut up as he slams me down onto him, making me gasp then cry out in pleasure as he thrusts up into me again and again until the shock of another orgasm cascades around me, and then I’m coming all over his cock as it pulses his cum into me.
“She plays hockey, and she rides my cock like a porn star.” He gives me a kiss. I feel him smile against my mouth. “You better be careful, Gumdrop, or you may never get rid of me.”
“Hot chocolate? Or do you want a snow cone drizzle?”
“Yes, please.” He leans in to kiss me.
“Which?”
“How about… option three?” He tilts my chin up to kiss me deeply, like I’m the perfect girl for him. “You taste like marshmallows. Also, this whole thing?” He nods his head. “Very extra.”
I had my little siblings help me create a snow landscape out in the backyard with snow benches, snow armchairs, and a snow bar where I’m serving up hot chocolate and other goodies.
I pack shaved ice into a fresh waffle cone, drizzle warm caramel over the ice shavings, and offer it to him.
Instead of taking it, he says, “Your bar is melting.”
“Dang it.”
Nearby, my mom is getting an earful from Grandma Pam, who is gesturing wildly between Talbot and Austen.
I should feel guilty that Brielle is holding an ice pack to Austen’s nose. This will affect his playing.
Talbot moves my hair off of my neck to kiss it. “Don’t feel bad for him. He’s supposed to be a big, tough NHL player. He can take a hit.”
“You were trying to kill him.”
“No, Gumdrop, I actually wasn’t.” He leans in to kiss me.
I sink into his mouth as his arms circle around me.
He kisses me like he wants to fuck me, like I’m something desirable.
“I don’t try to kill people,” he whispers, ghostly gray eyes locking with mine. “I just kill them.” He grabs the wrist of the hand that holds the snow cone, presses his warm mouth to the soft underside, then takes a bite of the sweet ice.
“Does this bar serve vodka?” Granny Keagan and Sienna lean against it, knocking some snow off.
“I’d like a hitman.” Sienna hiccups. “I mean an escort… Wait! I mean, well, just a hot piece of ass, generally. Thank you, I tip well.” My tipsy bestie slides down the snow stool, and Granny Keagan has to drag her upright. “We had celebratory shots in the car while you were getting fucks.”
I shove a chocolate-peppermint-drizzle snow cone in my friend’s mouth to shut her up.
Talbot smirks and starts trying to rebuild my bar. “We aren’t supposed to serve vodka. Grandma Pamela doesn’t want people to be inebriated.”
“The only way anyone wants to deal with her is extremely drunk,” Granny Keagan declares.
Near the pool house, Grandma Pam is loudly telling her relatives how wonderfully Ryan is doing in the NHL as a coach and how isn’t it a blessing that she has a grandson in the NHL, as well, and it’s such a shame the rest of the family isn’t doing that well.
Her sisters nod along, glazed looks in their eyes.
“They’ve got bourbon in that hot chocolate,” Granny Keagan says flatly. “Give it up, girlie.”
Sighing, I bring out the bottle of liquor and pour some in their hot chocolates.
“Merry Christmas, and what a finish!” Granny Keagan smacks her lips.
“Speaking of…” My grandmother leans over the snow bar, sending more of it cracking off. “When’s the big finish, sonny? You gonna strap a certain someone to a sleigh and blow his ass all the way to the North Pole on Christmas Eve?”
“You should have just”—Sienna mimes bashing someone’s head in with her hot chocolate mug—“before the big game. I lost money on that one.”
Talbot leans over the bar. “We all lost money on that one. I mean, losing to the Rhode Islanders? At this point, I could just shoot Austen in the middle of Main Street, and there’d be, like, half a million people who have means and motive after that game.”
“Let’s not get so worked up,” I squeak. “I am trying to run a wholesome Christmas party.”
“I think your little sister just stole some of your aunt’s beer, so real classy party, Gumdrop.”
“There’s always the next game. I’m sure Austen will find his feet. He’s just had a few off games.” I don’t look at Talbot. He’s not my boyfriend. It’s not cheating.
“Don’t tell me you’re putting money on any more games. Austen sucks! Booo!” Sienna says too loudly.
Austen glares over at us.
Mom hurries over. “Pamela tells me there is a wedding a few days before Christmas,” she hisses.
“Yeah, Mom…”
“It’s a surprise, though, Mrs. West,” Sienna slurs. “Shhhh!”
“We have so much to do! There are the caterers, the decorations, the flowers. Oh, and in less than two weeks? This is a disaster,” she wails. “We can’t throw Brielle a bad wedding. You know how she’s looking forward to it.”
“Mom, it’s fine.” I stomp over, knock the beer can out of Lucy’s hand, and drag her back to the bar. “Hot chocolate only.”
My mom flails her arms, getting super worked up.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I try to reassure her while keeping Sienna from climbing over the bar for the bourbon.
“Not that big of a deal?” she screeches as I make the annoyed Lucy a snow cone.
“Well, fine. You can sit out here and make snow cones. I’m going to make sure your sister has an unforgettable day.”
“Stepsister,” Lucy slurs, pretending to be more drunk than she is considering she took a swallow of light beer. “Talbot could make it unforgettable.”
Sienna and Granny Keagan cackle.
Lucy smirks.
Mom huffs. “We need to make a wedding that Brielle is proud of, that she deserves, that Pamela won’t complain to Ryan about. And if none of you will, then I’ll do it myself.”
I shove the bottle of bourbon at Talbot and follow my mom into the house. “Mom, I promise, I already have it under control.”
“You have the caterer and the cake booked?” she demands.
“No…”
“See!”
“Because I’m baking the cake and cooking the catering myself.”
“No, Misty. You’re not. That’s too much. Ryan has a big family.”
“I am very well aware.” I point to the trays of food.
My mom ignores me. “I’m going to take over. This is too important. I’m going to call in a favor from someone.” She scrolls through her phone. “I don’t know who, but… god, what a disaster. This whole holiday season.”
“Granny Keagan has a—”
“I don’t want any arguments. I’m pulling the mom card here.”