Chapter 49
PIPER
Nash told me about Vaughn’s new situation. How just days ago, a woman he slept with years back and hadn’t heard from since showed up at his doorstep and told him that he has a son, who she’s now leaving to live with him.
With that in mind, his performance tonight is no mystery. He hardly reacted when some of those shots went by him into our net.
He’s got bigger things on his mind than hockey, and he will for a while. I have no idea how someone adjusts to a bombshell like that.
Nash sends me a text to just meet him at home. The team no doubt has an unpleasant press conference ahead of them, and he won’t be in a good mood coming out of it. I’ll let him have the drive home alone to decompress.
And then cheer him up when he gets there.
At home, I take off everything I wore to the game—and put back on just one article of clothing: his jersey.
I pass some time lying on our bed, catching up on my book while waiting for Nash to get back. When I hear the door unlock and swing open, I set the book on the nightstand and make sure the hem of the jersey is plenty high up my legs.
Nash steps into the doorway, and stops in his tracks. His eyes burn on the long stretch of exposed leg I’m showing off above the covers.
“Hey, Nash,” I greet him. “Like my outfit?”
I grab a pinch of the fabric between my thumb and index finger to emphasize it, making sure that the motion causes the hem to rise even further up my thighs, to the point that only a thin shadow keeps Nash from a full view of my slick center when his eyes focus there.
A lusty haze sweeps over his eyes. “Very much.”
“Wanna show me how much?”
His nostrils flare, the glow of his amber eyes sharpening. He strides forward with determined purpose, but I shift to my knees, crawling to the foot of the bed and putting my hand on his chest to stop him.
“Stop right there,” I say.
A questioning look splashes on his face, but I make my intention clear when I back him up one pace and slide off the mattress, sinking to my knees in front of him.
“Just stand right there,” I say, my voice a sultry whisper. My hands work slowly as I undo his jeans and tug them down his legs. I love the way his muscles tense and quiver in anticipation.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans when my palm traces the outline of his hardness behind his boxer briefs.
I tug down his underwear, letting his cock spring up. Liquid heat rolls through me at the sight of his gorgeous manhood.
His long, thick shaft is adorned with full veins.
It’s an odd word to use to describe a cock, but the shape of his round, pink crown is downright elegant.
The stiff member looks as hard and strong as steel, but it’s warm and silky to the touch.
My fingertips dance lightly up his length while I watch his balls pull tight with arousal.
When I take him in my mouth, his hand spears into my hair and wraps around it with a sharp pull. The burn on my scalp is delicious, and the flinch that comes to my face just makes me suck him harder.
I take him as far as I can, then drag my lips languidly back up his velvety length, swirling my tongue around his head, gathering the salty taste from his leaking tip.
Nash takes his hand out of my hair for just long enough to pull off his shirt. When he pushes his fingers back through my strands and gathers them in a tight fist, I glance up at the beautiful view of his bare physique.
Seeing him from this angle, the strained pleasure on his face above the peaks and valleys of his amazing body, makes me so wet and horny that I have to slide my free hand underneath the jersey.
“Fuck, yes, baby,” Nash rasps. “Play with yourself while you suck my cock.”
My fingers circle my clit. My lips vibrate against Nash’s cock as I moan with my mouth full of him.
I keep going, pleasure winding tighter through my core. When I moan with my lips sealed around the head of Nash’s dick, he groans roughly and pulls his hips back.
“You’re about to make me come, baby, and I’ve got other plans for you, first.”
I gasp as he lifts me and puts me belly-first on the mattress. He grabs my hips and positions me so my legs dangle off the end of the mattress, the jersey riding up to my waist. I feel obscenely exposed in this position.
Now it’s Nash on his knees, spreading me open and eating my pussy from behind. My hands curl into the bedsheets. Pleasure pulses through me, molten heat expanding from where Nash’s hot tongue lashes.
I roll my hips into him. Nash’s tongue plays my body like an instrument. My nipples are sharp pebbles, scraping against the inside of my jersey while I writhe against the mattress, and the sensation heightens the pure, electric bliss firing through me.
The first swell of pressure announcing my climax starts to build behind my pelvis. “Oh, Nash,” I moan.
He must sense it in the tone of my voice, because he pulls back. Disappointment ricochets through me for a brief moment until Nash says, “You’re coming with me inside you, baby.”
Nash pushes into me, fucking me from behind. His hips slap against my bare ass, and from the first thrust, my body fills with the unmistakable sensation of impending release.
“That’s right, baby,” Nash says, calling me that name I love so much. “This dick is all fucking yours, and you’re going to come on it wearing my name on your back. Fuck, you feel so damn good.”
Nash reaches around and presses his fingers against my clit as he ruts into me, and I come undone. My orgasm hits me with a force that blurs my vision. I feel myself clench tight around Nash, drawing his release right behind my own.
The weight of Nash’s tired body collapsed onto my back as the mellow afterglow of my orgasm sweeps through me feels otherworldly.
Nash sighs in satisfaction, the warmth of his breath brushing against the side of my face. “Baby, you know how to make a bad day really, really good.”