41. Maya
Maya
It’s after midnight by the time we leave Beau and Colt’s apartment. The entire time the movie was playing, Jamie lazily trailed his rough guitarist fingers up and down the inside of my thigh.
The. Whole. Time.
Two hours of payback disguised as innocent touches and soft affection.
Drew fell asleep three-quarters of the way into the movie, and Colt said it was alright if he slept on the couch. Jamie and I, having been stewing in sexual frustration since the movie began, gave no complaints, and made our way to the Camaro as quickly as possible.
In the safety and privacy of the car—Jamie’s windows are tinted so dark they’re probably illegal—I take no time crawling over the console and straddling his lap.
“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growls, pulling my lips to his with one hand tangled in my hair and the other leaving fingerprint-sized indentations in my hip.
“You’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself,” I retort, gasping out each word between heavy, desperate kisses.
“Baby, you started it, and you know it,” Jamie rasps, mingling his tongue with mine. I physically feel the moisture building between my legs, pooling and hot as I grind my hips against his.
My lips break into a grin as he captures another kiss, not denying his accusation. He knows better than to tease me; I step up to the challenge swinging twice as hard.
Past the point of teasing, I deftly locate the waistband of his sweats and tug. Not missing a beat, Jamie bridges his hips up—with me still sitting on him, oh my God—helping me tug them down just enough to free his rock-solid dick.
The groan he lets out as I wrap my hand around him can only be described as tortured.
The lounge shorts I have on with my sweatshirt are baggy and stretchy enough that they don’t have to be removed for Jamie to reach a hand underneath and feel how damp my panties have become.
“God, you’re so fucking wet for me,” he whispers, teasing me with a fingertip. Jamie’s bedroom voice is so erotic, I could nearly come just listening to him talk dirty in that raspy whisper. The man doesn’t say much in general, but he has no trouble finding his words when he’s praising my body.
I try to lift myself up, nearly frantic to remove the remaining clothes between us. Jamie, ever the pragmatist, grabs my panties by the front and rips them from my body, pulling them out the leg of my shorts.
My brain short-circuits as I watch him toss the scrap of fabric to the side. “Problem solved,” he says, pulling my pant leg to the side far enough that my pussy is exposed. “Now sit on it.”
Oh, God.
Not wasting another second, I line his cock up with my entrance and lower myself all the way down onto him in one quick thrust. Jamie groans into my mouth, gripping a fistful of my curls as if trying to ground himself in this moment.
We sit like that, not moving, not speaking, but feeling every inch of where we’re connected. Throbbing, pulsing need flows through my veins, but the sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and I never want this moment to end.
“You feel so good. You were made for me, baby.” Jamie’s string of whispers continues as our lips dance.
Finally, as if he can’t take it any more, Jamie reaches down for the handle and leans his seat back. The new angle pushes his cock deeper into me, pulling a whimper from my chest.
He thrusts up, and my composure unravels. Arching my back, I begin riding him, my blatant need unrestrained. My hips meet his stroke for stroke, and I know I won’t last long. I’m too worked up—too overwhelmed by him.
With the thumb of the hand still holding my shorts out of the way, Jamie presses on my clit, providing the last bit of friction I was searching for.
“Oh, God,” I breath out, holding onto his shoulders like a lifeline as my vision blurs.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
Jamie circles his thumb over my clit once, and I fall; I tumble over the edge of oblivion with a gasp, stars lighting up behind my eyelids.
I hear Jamie’s deep groans—feel his hot release shoot up into me—as I shake and clench around him.
Time loses meaning as we sit there, panting, fighting to catch our breath through the aftershocks.
A soft kiss is planted on my temple as I rest against Jamie’s chest, and I can’t stop the giddy laugh that bubbles up. “If that’s what’s going to happen every time, I think I need to start teasing you more often,” I huff out.
Jamie’s strong body rumbles with laughter beneath me. “We are not starting an edging war. I don’t think I’d survive.”
April
The school’s administration gave excused absences Wednesday through Friday to everyone who wanted to make the trip down to Tampa for the Frozen Four weekend.
After discussing a bit more in depth, Stella, her friend Nora, Chloe, Dani, and I all decide to fly down together rather than trying to brave a fifteen hour drive or bus ride.
We land, and Uber to the hotel—the same hotel the team is staying at—early Wednesday evening.
The boys left early this morning, and they’ve been in Tampa all afternoon.
My dad had them all get settled into the hotel, then ride over to meet at the arena and scope out the environment.
The entire team is nervous as hell, and he wants to help them feel as settled and comfortable as possible before tomorrow night’s game.
The five of us are walking out of a restaurant, having just finished up dinner, when my dad calls.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, Bug. How was your flight?” he asks, sounding exhausted.
“Not too bad. Dani and I binge-watched Bones the entire time,” I reply, making him chuckle.
“You and those murder mysteries,” he sighs. “I was going to see if you wanted to get a coffee in the morning? Apparently, this hotel is too fancy for free breakfast, but there’s a coffee shop down the street.”
“Yeah, sure, that sounds good to me. Are you ready for tomorrow?” I ask, hearing the weariness in his voice.
“You know me, ready for anything. The boys have worked their asses off for this. I’ve been to one of these things before; none of them have. But they’ll be fine.”
“Are you heading to bed soon?”
“Yeah, we’re walking back toward the hotel now from the rink. I’m going to grab a bite with Clay and Bender, then turn in,” he says, referring to a couple of his assistant coaches. “If those boys come to meet you all somewhere, you better make sure they aren’t up too late.”
Stella’s phone lights up with a call just as he makes that last comment, and I can’t help but laugh when she answers and Colt’s face fills the screen, asking if we want to meet him and his friends somewhere.
“Will do, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning,” I promise, ending the call.
Deciding the best place to meet is at the hotel, we find Colt, Beau, Drew, and Jamie in the lobby, along with a few other players who aren’t ready to go to their rooms quite yet.
The boys lead the way to the restaurant located in the hotel—some sort of gourmet burger place, but the menu is expansive enough that the boys aren’t going to blow their diet before the big game.
I’m surprised they care about their nutrition enough to each order something relatively healthy and refueling rather than a greasy burger.
Throughout the entire meal, I could feel Jamie’s eyes lingering on me from down the table.
The hockey boys are hilarious—always laughing and picking on one another—but it was evident that there was also an underlying aura of stress and anticipation around the table.
The team didn’t talk about their upcoming game once, as if they were too nervous to bring it up and jinx their luck.
After dinner, everyone disperses to their respective rooms for a good night’s sleep, just as Coach ordered.
Leaving the restaurant, the boys get stopped by a few eager hockey fans, asking about tomorrows game and the like. One man in particular asks Jamie for a photo, stating he’s a huge Ross Booker fan as well as hockey enthusiast.
I can see the whole interaction makes him on edge, but Jamie takes it in stride, posing for a selfie with the guy before Drew politely excuses the entire group, claiming they have to get to bed and rest up for the big day.
Colt and Stella linger in the lobby to say goodnight while Beau, Drew, and Jamie slowly wander ahead toward the elevators.
Chloe and Dani shoot me twinning suggestive smirks before running over, pulling Beau, Drew, and Nora into the opening elevator, and hitting the close door button before I can chase after them. Jamie turns in a circle, the look of confusion evident on his face pulls a smile from me.
“They thought they were being slick,” I say, closing the distance between us.
Jamie laughs, tilting his head in amusement. “Points for creativity.” He leans down, only a few inches closer—not enough to look suspicious to prying eyes, but close enough that I catch a whiff of his spicy scent. “Now I get the time from here to the seventh floor to kiss you goodnight.”