Chapter 19 Eve
NINETEEN
EVE
The narrator for my current listen is so good, I need to pause my crafting to fully experience his seductive voice in my ears. Lainey recommended the latest romance release from her favorite author and I’m loving it.
“Are you going to let me taste you? Lap at you until your sweet cries reach the rafters, pretty girl?”
The couple has taken shelter in a barn, caught in the rain after a trail ride.
They’re both soaked to the bone, their clothes translucent, clinging to their skin.
He’s skimming his fingertips up her arms and across her chest to catch the water droplets.
Then he makes a show of stripping out of his shirt while she watches.
Just as the hero in the book is about to lower his mouth to go down on the heroine, the audio cuts out. I’m so absorbed in the story vividly playing out in my head, I don’t realize why. There’s a new Love Struck message from Cole.
“Getting ready to go to the game but I’m thinking of you right now, on your knees, lips stretched around my cock.”
His voice is so close to the narrator’s that my brain glitches from the sensual overload. There’s water running in the background. He must be about to shower.
It takes a minute to answer. All I manage is a string of emojis to illustrate what he does to me.
MightyPuck: Did I interrupt something? We can have fun later. You’re worth the wait.
CraftyCutie: I was listening to an audiobook on my phone when you messaged me. It was at a steamy chapter.
MightyPuck: Send me the name of the book and the part you’re at.
CraftyCutie: You want to listen to it?
MightyPuck: Yeah. I need to know what else you like, sweetheart. Maybe I want some inspiration, maybe I just want to read it knowing it made you wish I was there to make your pussy stop aching.
My stomach dips. That’s so hot. No guy I’ve dated has ever been interested in the romance books I read. They’ve reaped the benefits if a scene got me too hot and bothered, but they’ve never gone as far as reading any books themselves to find out what I find sexy.
MightyPuck: I can still help you feel good from far away.
CraftyCutie: Your talent is unmatched, sir.
He switches to a call. I answer it and set my earring project aside.
“Mm, want to help me out? I’m so fucking hard thinking about you in this shower with me.”
I wet my lips, already short of breath. “We’d be all wet together. What would you do with me?”
“Fuck. Everything,” he growls. “But first, get on your fucking knees for me.”
A shiver zips down my spine and heat pools in my core. It’s easy to moan across the line for him while I think of how he looks right now—corded forearm braced against the tile, fist stroking his rigid cock, water streaming over his body.
A ragged exhale tears from him. “Yeah. Suck it. Show me what’s all mine.”
The mental image of kneeling at his feet to blow him in the shower, maybe with his hand gripping my hair to make me suck him all the way down ignites my desire.
I spot the mug of candy canes I left on my book cart. Grabbing one, I film a short video to give him a visual.
He groans when I send it. It sounds like his hand speeds up.
“Get me there,” he rumbles. “Make me come, baby.”
I could stretch across my bed with a vibrator, but I want to stay focused on him. Make him feel good.
“Want your come filling my mouth,” I murmur. “I want to swallow every drop. Choke me with it.”
“Jesus,” he forces out roughly. “You like being my little cock slut, don’t you? So good for me, taking me nice and deep while I fuck that mouth.”
I moan again, making more obscene noises to make this lifelike for him. He bites back a curse that turns into the filthiest sound when he comes. A thrill races through me knowing I helped him get off.
“Thanks,” he says with a warm, sleepy chuckle. “I used to have this pregame ritual where I’d always rub one out. It’s more fun with you, obviously.”
“I feel like I should be thanking you. Did your shower run cold?”
Talking to him while he’s showering feels more intimate than him calling me while he jerks off. I lay my hand over my stomach. It doesn’t help the flutter.
“Not yet. Water’s still lukewarm.”
I listen for another moment to the sound of him moving beneath the spray and rinsing his hair.
“I don’t want to keep you or you’ll be late.”
“Wait, where did you get the candy cane?”
My gaze slides to the mug that’s been living on my cart. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’d never.” I can hear his smile.
“They’ve been sitting on my book cart.”
“It’s the end of February,” he says after a beat.
As promised, he’s not judgmental like others might be knowing how long stuff sits forgotten in my apartment.
“Yup.”
“Lucky me. Now I’ll be thinking about you as a naughty little elf.” His hum is so sexy. “How do you feel about costumes? Think we can get some on discount now that the holidays are over?”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “Okay, I’m leaving now.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
My smile doesn’t fade. I settle back into making heart-shaped lollipop earrings. They’ve been one of my bestsellers since I launched. I can barely keep them in stock after my online store was featured on a Valentine’s Day picks list.
I start the chapter over on my audiobook while I get to work.
As usual, Cole’s the blueprint I think of for any romance book hero I read.
It’s not until a few days later when I go to Cole and Benson’s game for their beer league team that I see him. He nudges Benson during warmups and they wave to us before going back to passing the puck between each other.
Jess and I have great seats in the third row. I’m surprised their teams draw a sizable crowd for a recreational league, but apparently they’re good enough the Brawling Bandits and their opponents both have fan followings in their communities.
I’m glad we got here early, even though I rushed out the door to meet Jess so quickly that I forgot my coat on my bed.
It’s chilly, but I have a thick sweater, jeans, and knee-high boots on.
Some of Heston U’s players show up before the game starts.
They say hi to us before grabbing some open seats nearby.
Familiar exhilaration sparks seeing Cole on the ice.
When the puck drops, we cheer for Benson winning the face-off.
Cole watches his team’s play unfold, on guard for any shift.
Benson and the wingers take the puck down the ice, but the other team’s defense shuts down their goal.
Cole’s ready for them, checking their center against the boards and firing the puck to his teammate.
I can’t take my attention off him. He plays even better than he did in high school.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to run back and get your coat?” Jess asks during the break after first period.
“Yes. Don’t give me that look. This is fine.” I make sure she has more of the blanket she brought for us to share. “I’ll bounce my legs to keep warm.”
“Want me to keep you warm, Eve?” Jake jerks his chin in a nod, opening his arms.
“I’m good. Got this cozy blanket to snuggle with my girl.”
He scoffs. “But you could be snuggling with me. I’m great at snuggling.”
“Pass,” I say through a laugh.
Easton comes over and strips off his hoodie, tugging down his t-shirt underneath. “Here. You can borrow my hoodie if you need it.”
“Thanks. I’m okay, though.”
He opens his mouth to say more, then freezes when Cole clears his throat behind him. His team is in the locker room for their break, but he’s out here with us.
Cole in his jersey and skates makes my brain melt and my stomach dip. He’s wearing his old number from high school. His hair is slightly damp, curling across his forehead and his attention is solely focused on me.
“Hey, coach. Good game so far. What’s up?” Easton rubs the back of his neck.
“Don’t you guys bug Eve enough when she’s watching you practice? Beat it,” Cole says.
“Give ‘em hell,” Easton says before returning to his friends.
“Hey, Kincaid. Can I get your autograph? Will you sign a puck for me?” I joke.
Cole cocks his head, mouth twisting wryly. “Funny.”
“Sign your stick for her.” Jess snorts at the gaping look we both throw her. “What? I didn’t say sign her boobs.”
“Jess,” I hiss.
“Kidding, jeez. You started it.”
She pokes me and the blanket falls from my lap. I suppress a shiver.
“You know, the coach’s daughter should know better than to show up to a hockey game without dressing warm enough,” he says with a handsome smirk.
His teasing makes me blush. “I forgot my coat and didn’t want to miss out on getting good seats. I’m taking one for the team.”
Chuckling, he holds up the coat he brought over. “I figured. I saw you between my line’s shifts sharing the blanket with Jess. We can’t have you catching another cold, right? Here, wear mine.”
He drapes his coaching jacket around my shoulders. His mesmerizing green eyes smolder as he zips it for me, stirring a flutter. This time I’m suppressing a shiver for an entirely different reason. My pulse speeds up, heart drumming wildly.
“Looks good on you,” he murmurs.
Mentally, I’m kicking my feet and screaming. It means something to a hockey player when you wear his number. I can’t help but wonder if this has the same meaning for him.
The Heston U players make a ruckus, cupping their hands around their mouths and elbowing each other.
“Ohh, coach got game!”
Cole flips them off without looking. “Can it.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Better?” He rubs my arms to help me warm up.
“Much better.”
“Enjoy the game, girls.”
“Good luck out there.”
His eyes bounce between mine. “Can’t lose with you watching.”
Jess bumps her shoulder against mine when the players take the ice for second period. “Um. How long has this been going on?”
“What?” I blink rapidly. “There’s nothing going on.”
“This is totally a thing.”
I fold like a house of cards under the weight of her skeptical stare. “Don’t tell Benson. We’re not really—It’s complicated, okay? He doesn’t know I like Cole.”
She mimes locking her lips. “Girl, that’s your business and I support it. Benson won’t know a thing.”
“You’re the best sister.” I hook my arm with hers.
“I’ve always thought you’d be good together,” she says after a short pause.
“For real?”
“Totally. I think you balance each other well.”
I think of how much his support and kindness has helped me. “I didn’t think he ever noticed me as more than his best friend’s sister.”
“He always looks at you whenever you’re not paying attention.”
She raises her brows when my eyes snap to her. There’s no way that’s true.
She must sense my disbelief because she adds, “I have video from the wedding to prove it if you don’t believe me. In almost every candid clip, his eyes are on you whether he’s aware of it or not, sweetie.”
I find Cole on the ice. He’s clashing with the offensive player he marked. He’s a force to be reckoned with.
And when the play ends, he glances toward the stands. Is he looking for me?
I wave and he lifts his gloved hand with a crooked smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
My eyes don’t leave him for the rest of the game.