Chapter 32
Beckett
As Finley lightly grips my cock, I know one thing for certain: this blowjob is going to be life-changing.
Waking up with my cock pressed into the deep groove of Finley’s muscular ass was enough to make me ready to come, but my already erect dick somehow manages to get harder at her touch.
She slowly lowers her hot tongue to the head, licking what must be a drop of precum from the very tip.
“Mmm,” she moans, the vibrations pulling me even closer to the edge. Fuck. It’s been a while since I was this ready to go first thing in the morning.
I let out my own moan in reply, digging my fingers into her hair and pulling lightly. “Your mouth is the best fucking thing in this entire world,” I tell her. Though it’s not quite the truth. She is the best thing in this entire world.
She chuckles before dipping her head and taking me all the way to the back of her throat. Her right hand grips the base of my shaft, working in tandem with her mouth, as she moves up and down my length.
“Ohhh, fuck. You’re killing me, Queenie. That’s so fucking good. So good.”
She runs her other hand over my balls, teasing me with barely there squeezes.
I’m already breathing hard, and I pull the comforter off her, needing to see the way she takes me into her mouth. “You look so good. Your pretty pink lips are amazing, wrapped around my dick like that.”
The image of Finley Blake gazing at me, spit running down her chin as she deep throats my cock—it’s going to get me through a lot of lonely nights in my future.
Finley moves up and down my shaft, her warm mouth sucking me as she cradles the underside of my dick with her tongue.
Heat builds at the base of my spine, and she pops off me with one final lick before sliding her hand up, stroking me.
She increases her pace slightly, and I want to tell her how fucking good her hands feel.
How whatever little twist thing she’s doing to my balls makes me want to hold her hostage so I can fuck her hand all day, every day.
But all that comes out are animalistic sounds as she finds a steady rhythm of pumping and cupping that has my hips thrusting into her.
I’m so close to the edge, I’m not sure I can last much longer. I am completely at Fin’s mercy, and my chest tightens as I realize there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I need to be inside her, to fuck her until she’s so confused that she never wants to leave, but I can’t move. Can’t do anything but seek that final release my body’s building toward.
My fingers flex in her hair, and she drops her mouth to the tip of my cock, licking just enough for me to unravel.
“Going to come,” I choke out, wanting to make sure she has time to pull off if she doesn’t want to swallow my cum. She makes a humming noise of acknowledgment, and just as the pressure inside me reaches its breaking point, she sucks harder.
I can’t look away as her eyes meet mine, widening slightly as my seed fills her mouth.
She holds my gaze and swallows before slowly licking her lips, like she just tasted the world’s best ice cream.
My heart skips a beat, and I consider dropping to one knee and asking her to let me become Mr. Finley Blake.
As I lie there catching my breath, she climbs up my body and drops a kiss to my lips before rolling away. I try to grab her, but apparently, my almost thirty years of hockey training mean fuck all when I’m in a post-Finley-blowjob coma.
“Breakfast,” I say, willing my body to get up and make something for the gorgeous woman who just gave me the best head of my life.
I walk into the kitchen after slipping on a pair of sweatpants.
Here’s the problem with cooking breakfast for Finley: I don't actually cook for myself, and as this is the first time that I've had a woman stay over in Denver, I’m positive my chef didn’t make extra breakfast. I pull open my fridge door, taking in the prepared meals stacked neatly on the top two shelves.
Catching sight of the brightly colored fruit peeking out from the chef’s jars, I realize I do have a couple of smoothie mixes I can whip up. That is just going to have to do.
“Hey,” Finley says as she walks into the kitchen a few moments later. “What's for breakfast?”
I nod at the blender as I add four scoops of powder from the cupboard next to it. “Protein smoothies.”
Finley smiles, though it disappears quickly. “Wow. Thank you.”
I give a mocking bow. “Only the best for you.”
I flip the blender on, letting it run until a purplish-brown mixture is ready for us. I pour it into a cup and hand it to Finley with a flourish. “Here you go, madam.”
“You know, some women want to be fed pancakes the morning after,” she says as if they like eating frog legs. “I’m glad you realized I’m the kind who wants a protein shake. Though, maybe it was obvious after the workout my mouth just did.”
I choke as the cold smoothie slams into the laugh bursting out of my throat, and Finley gives me a good-natured pat on the back.
“You okay there, Kane?”
I nod, setting my drink down before wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.
“So,” Finley asks, “I don’t think I can go to get my keys yet. Do you have any plans for the day?”
“I have a few ideas.” I run both hands up the insides of her thighs.
“Oh, really?”
“We could go back to bed,” I suggest and kiss the side of her lips.
“Don’t you need to get in a workout today?” she asks, and I’m not sure whether she’s teasing or really asking me as my coach.
“Who needs weights when I can just throw you around all morning?”
She takes a long drink of her smoothie, almost finishing the thing.
“Or…” I start.
“Or? Or what?”
I look at her and consider. “I actually bought you a little gift a while ago, and because you have been avoiding me—”
“I have not been avoiding you,” she cuts in.
“Okay,” I say, not even trying to hide my disbelief. She has been avoiding me. “Then, before you mysteriously got super busy and couldn’t be found by me, and only me, anywhere in the arena or your apartment… I bought you a gift.”
She raises her eyebrows skeptically. “A gift?”
“Yep.” I open the linen closet with exactly one spare towel in it, and pull out the dark blue box I got for her one night after we’d been practicing for the trivia portion of the Yeti Challenge.
I look at the image on the top for one final time, questioning whether I made the right decision, but it’s too late now.
“What is it?” she asks.
Rather than explaining, I hand it to her. She looks down, a wide smile pulling across her face when she realizes what it is. “You got me one of those fancy wood puzzles.”
My chest tightens at the sight of Finley happy because of something I gave her. It’s better than a penalty kill. Better than scoring a goal. I would do anything to earn that look from her again. And if I’m not careful, it might just become my newest obsession.
“Yeah,” I reply softly. “After you told me how much you liked them growing up, I went online and found a place in Boulder that sells the fancy ones you like.”
She gazes up at me with an almost confused look on her face. “You found a fancy puzzle store, just for me?”
I smile. “Yeah, Fin. Of course I did. I would do anything to make you happy. Don't you know that?”
I grab my smoothie and sit next to her on the couch as she dumps out the puzzle.
“So, where do we begin?”
“Edges, Beckett. Edges.”
“Luckily,” I say with a wink. “I’m good at edging.”
Finley laughs, her attention fully on flipping the puzzle pieces so they’re all right-side up. “If I remember correctly, you edged yourself so hard last night that you couldn’t even finish edging me.”
“I never said who I was good at edging. I obviously meant me. And puzzles, of course.”
“You’re not good at puzzles, are you?”
“No idea. I think I was six the last time I did one,” I answer, snapping two pieces with pictures of two kids together.
“Beckett! That’s an inside piece!”
“I know, but—”
She turns to glare at me, and it’s only the slightest twinkle in her eye that reminds me she isn’t my coach right now. Just a woman I care far too much about.
I lift my hands in a placating gesture. “Edging it is.”
We spend the next couple of hours putting together the uniquely shaped pieces until, finally, the full picture appears. It’s a winter landscape. The image of a frozen lake somewhere in the Midwest, a group of kids playing hockey in the middle.
“You’re right,” I say as we both stare at the completed puzzle on my coffee table. “The fancy pieces are much more fun. And I felt so classy while doing it.”
“I told you so.”
We sit there silently for a moment before Finley turns to me.
“Thank you for this. I honestly can’t remember the last gift anyone got me, and well, this was really special.
” She leans in and kisses me on the cheek as she says it.
As soon as her lips make contact, she pulls away, straightening her back as she checks her phone.
“Oh, Paige just texted. She said she was able to make it to the arena from her apartment, so I should be good to make it.”
“We don’t need to go yet.” I reach for her again.
She smiles at me, and something settles behind her eyes. Not regret, but something like resolve. Maybe a bit of sadness. “I… can’t, Kane. I’ve got to get back to work. It’s April. We’ve got to get ready for the playoffs.”