Chapter 4
four
. . .
Bex
three years ago
Nick’s cute.
No. Scratch that. He’s hot.
He knows it, too. Normally, I stay away from cocky dude-bros who might know my brother, but Nick doesn’t seem like he would be friends with Wyatt. And fuck, if it would piss him off…
I’m no stranger to anonymous hookups, and I’ve been around enough asshole hockey players that I don’t let any of them get too close.
But Nick isn’t asking for anything more than one time, and frankly… I could use a fuck. It’s been long enough.
When the cheese fries are gone and our drinks are empty, he pays the tab, then offers me his hand.
As I slide my palm against his, a cheer goes up around the bar and I freeze, pulling free of his grip.
I’ve been on the periphery of pro hockey for long enough that people don’t know who I am, just that I have connections to the league. And although my lacrosse career at Michigan ended seven years ago, I did bring the team to the national championship—twice.
But when I look around, everyone’s focused on the TVs around the bar. Nobody’s looking at us. Michigan hit a home run, two players crossing the plate and the team closing in on an easy victory.
“You good?” Nick looks at me, his hand still extended.
“Yeah. I’m good.” I slip mine into his again, my heart pounding. When the entire bar doesn’t react this time, I try to relax.
He’s just a hot stranger taking me back to his hotel room to hook up. That’s all this is. That’s all it has to be.
His hotel is about a two-minute walk, and he doesn’t release my hand the entire time. He’s teasing, flirty, but not heavy-handed with it. And he seems effortlessly comfortable in his skin.
We’re at his hotel room door when I get cold feet. My doubts solidify into a ball in the pit of my stomach. What are we doing? We haven’t even kissed yet.
“Wait,” I say, right as he inserts his key.
“What’s wrong?” He looks at me with concern sketched on his face.
Swallowing my hesitation, I step closer and set my hand on his chest. He’s about half a foot taller than me, and I’m five foot ten, so he’s got to be at least six four. Wide, strong, definitely in shape. His heart pounds beneath my palm.
I hook my hand behind his neck, and he leans down to meet me halfway.
His lips slant over mine, kissing me firmly but not aggressively.
And as he parts my lips with his tongue, a spark of electricity coils in my belly.
His hands land on my hips, his grip light but enough to surround me in his scent, a rich and woodsy cologne that does funny things to my brain.
Pulling back, Nick studies my face, his eyes pinging all over. Do I do this?
This man is a virtual stranger—one I don’t recognize.
I know a few players on the New Orleans team and more around the league, not to mention my brother solidly walloped their asses to win the Cup last week.
Fuck, Wyatt is still celebrating, and probably will be all the way until the next season starts.
On the other hand… I’ll probably never see him again. Just the way I like it.
Pull it together, Rebecca Lynn. My mother’s voice echoes in my head, picking at a scab I’ve spent years trying to heal.
Desperate to shove her from my mind, I take the room key from his hand and unlock the door.
It’s a fairly standard hotel suite. A couch furnishes the living room. The bed is neatly made without the sterile touch of the housekeeping crew. He keeps his space neat and tidy, which I like.
There’s a lot I like about this. I just have to get out of my own damn way. He’s hot, he’s not dating his best friend who he’s probably in love with, and he’s interested in something quick and easy. Wham, bam, thank you… sir.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Nick cautions. “We can just hang out.”
Pulling my hair out of its slipping ponytail, I twirl it into a new one. “Can we hang out with your dick inside me?”
He chokes.
“Oh? Too much?” I look him over again. “Not interested?”
He clears his throat. “That’s not it…”
“I’m done playing coy. You got me back to your room. Congratulations. You won, whatever. Now I need you to get naked.”
I toss my blazer on the couch and go for the button and zipper on my suit pants. Letting the trousers pool at my feet, I step out of them and turn to fold them beside my jacket. And I might show off the lacy G-string at the same time.
Nick groans, a deep, masculine sound that rumbles through me and sends shivers down my spine. Looking coquettishly over my shoulder, I find his eyes zeroed in on my ass, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. A significant bulge protrudes from his simple khaki shorts.
“What part of get naked do you not understand?” I ask.
His eyes dart up to mine, a smirk curving his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Nah. I’m not into femdom,” I reply, pulling my shirt over my head. “I mean… I could be sometimes. I guess. But that’s not what I’m looking for right now.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he looks me over in my skimpy panties and favorite push-up bra. Prickles of awareness spark through my core as his gaze sweeps over my skin with frank appreciation.
Reaching behind him, he pulls his T-shirt off in a smooth motion.
His body is toned and sculpted, his warm, light brown skin dotted with freckles.
A single tattoo is inked on the inside of his forearm.
A series of numbers. A date? He shoves his shorts off his hips, leaving him in a pair of tight black boxer briefs that do little to hide his interest.
Still in my heels, I stalk toward him, nudging his chest. He steps backward, so I do it again, until we reach the end of the bed. He falls onto it, his hands on my hips, pulling me down on top of him to straddle his waist. I try to keep my weight off him and end up kind of hovering above his lap.
“Hi,” Nick says, bumping his nose against mine.
“Hi?” I thread my arms around his broad shoulders. “What’s up?”
He tugs me down onto his lap, and I feel exactly what’s up.
“Oh. Hi.” I shift on top of him, biting my lip to suppress a moan. He feels long and thick, and everything I’m looking for. My core throbs with want.
Arching my back to thrust my chest forward, I card my hand through his silky brown hair and tip his head to find a better angle.
And then I kiss him.
Nick rumbles out a groan almost immediately, his hands moving from my hips to my back, cradling me in the circle of his arms. Fuck, he feels good pressed against me, his body large and solid beneath mine.
He traces my love handles, drifting over my rolls and curves with a reverent touch that makes me think this could possibly be—
No. Don’t go there. One time only. In, out, done.
That’s all I can do. That’s all it can be.
It’s easy for me to read into this, to think it can be more than sex. That’s what I do: I overthink. This, everything. If there’s one thing I’m good at, aside from blowjobs, it’s driving myself nuts obsessing over every little detail.
I’d rather focus on the blowjob.
Nick unhooks my bra easily, pulling it away and tossing it behind him. His hands move to my breasts, cupping me there, and I arch further into his touch. As his fingertips trace the swell of my breast, I dig my nails into his shoulders, and he twitches beneath me in the best possible way.
He tilts my head back, kissing his way down the column of my throat and sucking gently on my pulse point. His touch is featherlight, teasing. When he pinches my nipple, I grind down on his lap. The gentle tug on the sensitive bud draws a gasp from my lips.
His hand trails over my hip to cup my ass, pulling me down solidly to meet him at my core. Deft fingers tease the line of my thong between my cheeks, tugging on the elastic of the waistband and snapping it.
I can’t help it. I moan.
Nick pulls his mouth away from my skin. “You okay if these come off?” Once again, he traces the back of the G-string.
“Fucking finally.”
Raising up onto my knees, I let him tug on the soaked material, and once he has them down about three inches, he slides his fingers between my legs.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he says, cupping the apex of my thighs. My pussy throbs.
And when he runs his thumb over my clit, and I push my cunt against his hand? Yeah, I like that, too.
The jerk teases me, and it’s fucking unfair. It feels like fucking forever until he presses against my entrance, slowly slipping a finger inside me. I rock back on it, needing more, needing him deeper.
With a twist of his wrist, he adds a second finger, and I moan as he fills me, his thick, calloused fingers doing dangerous things inside me while his thumb swipes against my clit.
Fisting his hair, I draw his head back and meet him for a kiss, his tongue tangling with mine. His smooth, steady strokes fan the fire deep inside me. My nails dig into his shoulders.
I can’t think, can’t breathe. All I can focus on is the exquisite perfection of him touching me exactly the way I need.
Nick sucks kisses on the sensitive skin beneath my jaw, trailing down my throat. I catch his fuzzy cheek with my palm, scratching through the playoff beard to reach his skin underneath. He nuzzles his cheek into my hand, like he can’t bear to be apart.
He thrusts his fingers inside me and I clench around him, tilting my hips to get the exact right angle until he brushes against that spot that makes my eyes cross. I climb higher and higher until I’m on top of the world’s tallest skyscraper, and when he kisses me… I fall.
Free-fall. Floating. I tumble off the ledge, and he catches me, grounding me, giving me a safe place to land.
Breathing hard, I unwind my arms from around his neck and sink onto his lap, my cheek pressed to his chest.
He probably isn’t interested in cuddling.
That’s not what this is about. But I’m still going to take a moment to breathe.
I need physical closeness. What he just did was incredibly intimate, and what we achieved together…
sure, I can get myself off, but it doesn’t come close to the same as experiencing it with someone else.
Nick presses kisses to my forehead, smoothing back my hair, holding me close. If it weren’t for his hard length pressing insistently into my ass, I’d half believe he was fine if we walked away now.
He tips my head back, his hand coiling through my hair to grip my ponytail. His strong, solid body is stiff and tense against me, his tongue soft and pliant against mine.
Warmth blooms beneath his thumb as he strokes my cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” I shake my head, even as my knees shake. “I know what this is. Trust me, you don’t need to coax me.”
A frown mars his kissable lips. “I’m not lying.”
Scoffing, I remove myself from his lap, pulling my thong up the rest of the way. What a way to kill the afterglow.